Authors: Mira Lyn Kelly

Tags: #Contemporary Fiction, #Contemporary Women, #Contemporary, #Romance, #Literature & Fiction, #Women's Fiction

Truth or Dare (35 page)

BOOK: Truth or Dare

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“She said I could wear one of her outfits as long as I get it cleaned. But you should see her wardrobe.” She fingered a slashed cocktail dress held together by chains. “I can’t decide if I would look more like a female impersonator or a stripper.”

“Oh come on. So her clothes are a little edgy. You could pull that off; you look a lot like her. Listen, I’m not letting you say ‘no’ to this. This is your chance to get out among real people, to have fun, and even meet stud-boy Westbrook!”

“But—”

“No buts. You and I have been watching the Sonics play for what, ten years now? You’ve been a baseball fan since we were kids! You even have that autographed baseball on your nightstand that your dad gave you, signed by all the greats!”

“Yes, but even if I went, I’m no Lydia Logan. This is high society, people with real money. They would be expecting someone like her and I wouldn’t have the first idea what to say to them. You’ve never met her, but Lydia is a lot of fun and a man magnet. She is cool, beautiful…she simply lights up a room.”

“So does a thunderstorm,” Cara snorted. “You sell yourself short—you’re a helluva better person. She tries on men like they’re hand-me-downs. And didn’t she sleep with her best friend’s fiancé?”

“That might just be loose talk—”

“I doubt it. Listen, all you have to do is laugh at everything anyone says and act like you’re having a great time,” Cara insisted. “Keep an open mind and just try on a couple of her dresses. I know you’ll find something that looks good.”

“You really think so?”

“Yes. Listen, don’t blow this. I get to live vicariously through you. I can’t remember the last time I got laid, and you’re getting to meet Chase! If you don’t go, I will.”

Chapter Two

“Fastball, ninety-five miles an hour!”

“Slider, eighty-three. How about a curveball?”

Chase Westbrook removed his hat, wiped the sweat from his brow, and shook his head negatively at the pitching coach. “No, I want to work on my slider.”

Dick Dubell lowered the radar gun and walked up to the mound, signaling to the catcher to hold up from throwing another ball. “Your slider is good. Excellent, in fact. You don’t need to practice that.”

“I couldn’t get my location last night.” Chase pounded his fist in his glove. “That’s why Tommy Jones hit that triple in the fifth. I want to make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

“Chase, I admire your work ethic. I know off-season you were either at the gym every night developing your upper body strength or at the mound throwing. But you need a third pitch. Right now you’ve got a hot fastball and an unhittable slider. But your curveball is inconsistent. Let’s get another solid weapon in your bag.”

“I did well enough last season.” Chase glared. “Are you trying to say I didn’t pull my weight?”

“Not at all.” The older man laid a fond hand on the pitcher’s shoulder. “You know I think you’re a fine ballplayer. But you have the potential to be one of the greats. Last season you got some attention. Do you know what that means?”

When the pitcher shook his head, Dubell continued patiently. “You’ve been videotaped. The batters are going to study you, figure you out. With only two possibilities, it won’t be that hard. All of a sudden guys who couldn’t hit anything other than a foul ball off you will start getting runs. And that can really mess with a pitcher’s head. I don’t want to see it happen to you.”

“I know.” Chase didn’t doubt the man’s intentions. “I just have to play the game my way. And I like to bring on the heat. My fastball’s getting really good now that I’ve built up my arm. And even the paper said last night that my slider is one of the best in baseball.”

Dick shrugged. “Have it your way. But don’t let the praise go to your head. You know how the media is. They need something to write and just as easily can trash you tomorrow.”

He stepped back and signaled to the catcher to throw. As he watched Chase pitch, he admired the young man’s skill and control. He was homegrown, a product of the Sonics’ own farm team, and had developed into an amazing athlete. A workhorse, he was often at practice long before the batters showed up, and had the discipline of a more experienced player. With his movie-star looks and his charm, Dubell knew the kid had a great career ahead of him. His only criticism was that Chase was a maverick. Incredibly talented, the pitcher was smarter and faster than a lot of the other guys, and he knew it. If he could only get him to understand that if he became more of a team player, he would be unstoppable.

Another ball flew by and he aimed the gun as the catcher snatched it out of the air. Chase looked at the coach expectantly.

“Ninety-eight,” Dick confirmed with a grin even as the catcher shook out his hand, still stinging from the contact.

Chase grinned back. “Let’s see the Yankees hit that one.”