Cleat Catcher (The Cleat Chaser Duet Book 2) by Celia Aaron, Sloane Howell Page B

expected her to be upset about the porn, but not this much. I was halfway hoping she’d want to look at it with me. “No. I was trying to find new stuff to try out on you. If you must know.”
    Her lips curled like she might smile, and then they mashed back into a thin line.
    So close.
    “Have they said if you’re going to be traded or not?” She took another step toward me, ignoring all of the pussy acrobatics flashing on the laptop.
    “No.” I tilted my head to my lap and ground my teeth while I tried to compose myself. I’d been trying to forget about that shit all day, but the pain in my knee kept it front and center in my mind.
    She made a pfft sound and threw her arms in the air.
    “Babe, I’m sorry. I know I’m supposed to have a clue what you’re upset about. I just don’t.”
    A million things rocketed through my mind at once and brought my entire thought process to a crashing halt. My brain buffered slower than the inverted cowgirl pussy nomming scene I’d attempted to watch earlier.
    Nik scowled, and then folded her arms across her chest. She stared me down like a closer in the ninth inning. “Think really really hard about the problem we have.”
    My eyes rolled up toward the ceiling. “Uhh, your parents?” I glanced back and tried to judge her reaction.
    She made a loud sound like a buzzer that startled me.
    “Fucking hell. I mean, umm, me being traded?” I held my hands up and shrugged.
    “Warmer.” She took another step toward me.
    I hated this fucking guessing game. Why couldn’t she just say it? Heat rushed into my face, and my body tensed.
    “Can you just tell me? Please. Stop fucking around with me.” I smacked my hand against the back of the sofa, and Nik jumped.
    “Maybe my parents were right. Maybe you do have anger issues.” She stomped off a few steps and whipped back around. “ Easton! ”
    “Take that shit back. You know I don’t. Maybe your goddamn family just brings it out of everyone. Maybe you’re more like your mo—” I froze stiff on the couch, and my eyes bugged out. I held up my hands. “I stopped myself. You heard me. I did not say it.”
    It was too late. I thought my head was going to explode the way Nik glowered in my direction. Her hands were squeezed into fists at her sides, and I could see all the whites of her knuckles. She started toward me like a possessed demon. “Did you say what I think you said?”
    Do not answer, Braden. That shit is rhetorical. Adapt and survive.
    I shook my head quickly and braced myself in case she resorted to physical violence.
    When she was about three feet away, I covered my face with my hands. I waited, and nothing happened. I peeked between my fingers, and she stood in front of me.
    Her words came through gritted teeth. “Through all your bullshit pity party, and your fucking blow-up at my parents—”
    “That wasn’t all my—”
    She held up her hand, and I shut the fuck up immediately.
    “You’ve wallowed around and discussed moving your shit, packing your shit, cities you are okay with, places you won’t go—but you never once asked me to go with you.”
    “Babe, I—” I closed my mouth.
    She didn’t let me speak, and wouldn’t believe me now if I tried.
    “You said baseball is all you’ve got. You made that very clear to me, Braden. And you know what? You’re absolutely right.” She turned on her heel, and I watched as she walked out the door.
    Jumping up to my feet to chase her, pain ripped through my knee and shot down my leg. I stumbled for a second and then beefed it face-first onto the carpet. I stared around at my house from the floor, looking up at everything I owned. Nothing in my life meant shit without her. I’d definitely hit rock bottom. Of course I wanted her to go with me. It was a given. I figured she just knew that. That’s if I even had to leave at all. I bounced my forehead on the floor. My entire life was falling apart over a hypothetical situation.
    I had to talk to someone. I