“You were eye-fucking her like there’s no tomorrow.”
My brows furrow at his comment, and he looks at me oddly.
“Are you a bat boy?” he asks, whispering in my ear.
“What?” I choke out. “You know I play center field.”
He shakes his head. “You know,” Davenport says, waggling his eyebrows and pointing down to his crotch. Did he really ask if I was a bat boy?
I shake my head. “No, man, that ship sailed back in high school.”
Davenport wipes his forehead and lets out an exaggerated “phew” before glancing over in the direction where Ms. Ainsley Burke is standing. She’s talking to some other woman, a teacher maybe, and when she looks in my direction, she smiles.
“Well, I think she wants your juice packer.” A hand is slammed down on my shoulder as Kidd steps next to me. Davenport starts laughing while I try to contain myself.
“What did you say?”
Kidd shrugs and continues to look at Ainsley. “You know, your cooch lover. She wants to ride the jerk boner. Just don’t do her in the cheap seats,” he says, patting me on the shoulder before whistling at someone to get their attention.
“What the hell did he just say?”
Ethan shakes his head. “The one thing you need to learn about Travis is that he has this whole array of slang words for everything sexual. Cheap seats means having sex on the floor.”
“Ah,” I say, pretending to understand. “And bat boy?”
“Virgin, man. And if you are, don’t you dare let Kidd find out. You’ll never live it down, and you’ll become his new favorite hobby.”
Before I can respond, the kids start filing in. I’m sure they were told not to run, but you can see them speed-walking to get to their player. Davenport and I are with three girls and two boys who all seem very excited to be here. I was excited, until we had to leave and I could no longer openly gawk at Ainsley.
Chapter 4
Ainsley
The sound of loud cheering has me peering out my window. The charter bus carrying the Boston Renegades has pulled to a stop and the players are stepping off, much to the delight of the children waiting to meet them. Looking back into the mirror, my eyes roam over my ragged look, and I try to bring some life to my cheeks by pinching them. With my blond hair in a ponytail and a very light dusting of makeup, this is as good as it’s going to get for me today.
And today, of all days, is media day with the Renegades. I knew this at two in the morning when I raced back to work to watch a miracle unfold. I couldn’t leave, though, not once I caught sight of the calf. Even though I enjoy my job now as the zoo’s event and staff coordinator, I miss working with the giraffes every day, and watching the birth of our newest member really hit home. However, I have no doubt in my mind that this event today will be just as joyous. I can only imagine how fun it’s going to be, watching the children’s faces when they meet their favorite athlete. Probably much like mine when Jambo gave birth in the early hours of the morning.
When I contacted the Renegades general manager, Ryan Stone, with my idea, I thought he would hang up on me. Instead, he loved it and promised that the team would be at the zoo. He went on to say that it’s important for the team not only to give back to the community at home, but also the community they call home for their preseason. I couldn’t agree more.
Peeking out my window again, I watch the players move down the line, stopping and shaking hands with each and every kid, likely making this a dream come true for some of them.
I grab my radio, exit my office, and step out into the blazing sun. It’s unseasonably warm for March, making me hope this isn’t a sign of things to come. I’d rather not experience a scorching summer this year.
“This was a great idea, Ainsley,” Bruce says through a yawn.
“You should’ve gone home. I could’ve found someone to fill in for you.”
“Nah,” he says, shaking his head. “I want to be there when they see the calf through the window.”
Me too.
“It’s good that they agreed to this. I know it was a risk asking, but the Renegades are so popular I thought everyone involved could benefit from this event.”
“Did you think they would tell you no?”
I shrug, not really knowing the ins and outs of what professional teams or athletes normally do. Sure, I read things on the Web about money being donated or an athlete paying special attention to a child who is battling an illness, but to take a day off from training to spend at the zoo is probably, at least in my opinion, unheard of. In what research I could do, I didn’t find any reports or documentation that this sort of event had been done before. Golf games, bowling, and the like are done all the time, and I honestly didn’t think my idea stood a chance. Thankfully, the Renegades had no qualms about proving me wrong.
“Most of the players come from nothing, so they’re making sure the communities who support them are taken care of. They want to make sure that kids have the same opportunities to succeed,” Bruce says, opening my eyes to a different side of athletes.