Wild Pitch (DOMINATING THE DIAMOND #1) by Cat Giraldo EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Cat Giraldo
- Language: English
- Genre: contemporary romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 4.5 MB
- Price: Free
Louder than the crack of a whip, the crash of wood and cowhide echoes off
aluminum seats and vibrates in my bones. The stadium is an uproar of too
many sounds. This isn’t my home ballpark, but the sounds are the same
anywhere we go. Announcers, music, screaming fans. I can’t hear any of it
over the sound of my own breathing as I keep my heartbeat steadier than
the pitches soaring toward me. Soreness twinges deep in my back, but I
don’t allow myself to acknowledge it. Sixty seconds left in this round; I can
do anything for sixty seconds. Just one minute to remind every ass in this
stadium and on the other side of so many cameras that Mateo Reyes may be
getting old, but I am not done yet.
Younger athletes sit on both benches. Fifty feet in either direction are pits
of snakes waiting to devour me alive if given the chance. Men whose
bodies don’t leave them floundering out of bed in the morning, despite
hours of extra work—physical therapists, ice baths, stretching, saunas—and
early nights in.
Sixty seconds fly by almost as quickly as the balls I’m knocking out of
the park. I wave to the fans, and my heart swells with pride at the sight of so
many red jerseys waving back at me. A perk of playing a stadium so close
to home. I take my time walking back to the dugout, and by the time I sling
my bat and helmet into the cubby, my back feels halfway normal.
I tune out my teammates while we wait for the final round. I may be
captain one hundred and sixty-two games a year—more if we’re lucky—but
the Home Run Derby is my time to show off without worrying about
anyone else on the field. With a million-dollar prize on the line, and the
curtain on the first act of my career looming no matter how I try to undo the
wear and tear of aging, I can afford my teammates’ distractions about as
much as I can afford to let my back and knees get cold.
“You’re killing it out there,” says the one person who is either brave or
foolish enough to sit next to me right now.
Not that I can ignore how this voice stands apart from the rest. A little bit
husky, with a bite beneath the sweetness, her voice hits me like a doubleshot of expensive whiskey. She sounds like late nights and bad decisions,
neither of which belong in the dugout beside me.
I don’t drop the fingers pinching the bridge of my nose. I glare sidelong
at her and say nothing.
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