Billionaires Dollar Series

“You’re right,” Cole says, lips twitching again. “It’s not usual. We’re more like boyfriend and girlfriend in that way.”

“So…” Timmy breaks off, glancing at me furtively, perhaps wondering if he’s going too far. “You’re friends who might become boyfriend and girlfriend? But you don’t know yet?”

Oh, dear God.

Cole gives a decisive nod. “That’s exactly right.”

Is it? I sink back into my chair, a jumble of conflicting emotions racing inside me. And that’s when I notice people around us are cheering far louder than usual. It’s still a between-innings break, isn’t it?

It is.

And Cole and I are on the Jumbotron. Surrounded by a heart.

I watch the screen in a dazed sort of horror, seeing Timmy’s massive grin when he realizes we’re on TV. My own face is half-hidden, the baseball hat pulled low. Cole’s is set in determined lines.

“Damn it.” His voice is nearly lost in cheering around us. Kiss. Kiss. Kiss.

I pull my hat down lower. “This is on camera!”

“They won’t see you.” And then he’s kissing me, pushing me back into the chair with force, an arm around me. His lips are warm, his back broad.

Covering me from view.Content is property of NôvelDrama.Org.

He pulls back an inch. “Duck your head.”

Obediently, I duck my head as he sits back, pulling me against his chest. Applause and whistles sound all around us. And then it’s over. The camera moves on, the cheers die down, and breath returns to my lungs.

“Wow,” Timmy is saying. “We were on TV!”

My voice is faint. “Imagine that.”

“Damn Nick,” Cole says, his hand fisted on the edge of his chair.

“This was his doing?”

“Undoubtedly.”

I shake my head, trying to clear it. The game is shown on TV. The odds that any of my friends are watching, not to mention my family, are low. Nearly infinitesimal. But they’re not zero-and that’s enough to make my stomach turn.

I put my hand on Timmy’s shoulder to distract myself. “What player is your favorite? Do you want to show me, on the touch screen?”

He launches into a discussion about pitcher strength and technique and I listen intently. Ignoring my emotions yet again where Cole is concerned.

The game begins again and Timmy’s attention is glued, although he occasionally turns to us to point out something extraordinary. I lean into Cole, and his arm tightens around me. “Stop worrying about the kiss cam,” he murmurs. “No one will be able to recognize you.”

I play with the hem of my baseball shirt. “But people will recognize you, right?”

His voice is reluctant. “Yes.”

“And wonder who you’re with.”

“Probably,” he says. “But you’re Anonymous Brunette Number One.”

I put my feet up on the little table. “Sometimes it’s good to be plain.”

“There’s not a plain thing about you,” he says, pressing a kiss to my temple. And despite it all, the words make me blush.

After the game, Timmy has two full notebook pages of notes. He’s talking excitedly about the tryouts with Cole, who as it turns out, is an expert at amping up Timmy’s confidence.

“It’s not going to be easy, but that’s okay. If it’s easy, what would be the point? And if you don’t get into the team on the first tryout, you try again. And again. And you practice.”

Timmy is nodding, brown locks flying. I smile at the two of them. Whatever comes out of this night, it has been worth it for the giant grin on my nephew’s face.

The attendant allotted to us shows up again, a box under his arm. “Before we go, there’s something here for the youngster amongst you. The team heard that you’re a big fan.”

Timmy’s eyes are the size of saucers. He looks at me once, and I nod encouragingly. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Now come on, let’s get ahead of the crowd.”

Timmy holds the package like it’s the Holy Grail. Once in Cole’s car, he opens it with reverent hands. There’s a baseball shirt signed by the players and a set of three baseballs.

“This,” he declares, “has been the best night of my whole life!”

Cole grins at me. “I can’t complain either, kid.”

I smile back at them both, my heart full, even if the happiness feels as fragile as a soap bubble. One thought of the bookstore and it might pop.

Blair has her hands on her hips. “You were on kiss cam for the whole arena to see, but you won’t tell your own sister who it was?”

I groan, leaning against the wall in my hallway. “How did you even find out about this?”

“It was shared on Facebook.”

“You’re joking.”

“Nope.” She shakes her head, golden locks flying. “The caption nearly made me gag, though. Who is eligible bachelor Cole Porter smooching? Ew.”

“You’re friends with people who’d share something like that?”

“We’re not turning this around on me.” My sister peers around the corner, clearly itching to be invited in. “Is this the same girl you had to rush off to see two weeks ago?”

“Yes. And-how many times do I have to say this-it’s not something I want to talk about.”

“Come on, Cole. I had to see this on the news!”

“Facebook isn’t news. Not yet, anyway.”

“Not to mention I haven’t seen you around in ages.” She drops her purse on the hallway table, already reaching for the clasp of her jacket.