I finished breakfast as fast as lightning. I didn’t even taste the food on my tongue. Even my coffee flew by in a blur. Then I jogged upstairs to my room, changed, and left the house.
It’s not that I can’t stand being around Andi, but that being near her drives me crazy. I don’t know whether that’s good or
bad.
I don’t dislike her presence–god, I wish that were the reason. It would have been easy to avoid her, but it felt like I was dragging my feet away from her.
She drives me insane, and the only women who drive me insane are my Nana Lucy, Mom, and Lila. It’s a different kind of crazy when Andi is around. It’s like I can’t breathe, I can’t think straight, and I can’t take my eyes off her.
Last night replayed in my head like a torturous loop. I kept telling myself not to look at her during the party, and like a pathetic man with zero restraint, I failed miserably.
I still remember how she looked last night. She was a goddess in a fitted dress, hair curled, lips soft and pink, eyes wide with wonder… and I swear something in my chest gave out. Like a wall cracked and exploded.
All night, I pretended to drink water just to disguise the way my throat dried up. I pretended to listen to Sloane, to the MC, to Nana Lucy’s never–ending matchmaking schemes, but no matter where I looked, all I saw was her.
And then Cole.
My player of a cousin, sliding in like he owned her, whisking her toward their table because Nana Lucy told him to. He would’ve done that anyway, even without Nana Lucy’s direction. I saw the way he looked at her–like the last piece of tiramisu on the buffet table. If it weren’t for Nana Lucy, he would have tossed Andi over his shoulder and taken her home with or without her consent.
All throughout the party, my mind was on their table, not ours.
I didn’t even know when possessiveness became a thing with me. When the hell did that happen? When did she become someone I couldn’t stand seeing near another man?
But the moment Andi laughed at something Cole whispered, it rattled me. And when Cole placed his arm on the back of her chair, all I saw was red. If Nana Lucy weren’t there, I would have floored Cole onto the courtyard and sucker–punched him in the face. My jaw hurt from clenching it so hard. My left shoulder flared, too. The pain spiraled down my system like hot
lava,
I ignored the pain, just like I ignored the warning bells in my head telling me I was acting like a lunatic.
And then came the charity auction.
I wanted to strangle Nana Lucy for that stunt.
Putting Andi on stage, announcing her as the “wild card” of the night? Watching every man in the party straighten in their chairs? They were like lions seeing a lamb after a famine.
I told myself I didn’t care. She was my maid. My employee. Not my problem if these men bid for her, but then Cole lifted his damn paddle.
My chest tightened just thinking about Cole placing his hand on Andi’s back, guiding her to her seat on their dinner date. Something inside me flared up.
1/4
Chapter 42
20 vouchers
I didn’t think. I didn’t strategize. I didn’t plan. I just raised my hand and kept raising it until I heard myself bid six hundred thousand dollars.
Six. Hundred. Thousand. For a date with my maid. Everything happened so fast, I lost control of the situation.
I’d never spent that much on anyone–much less a woman who works for me.
And when she looked at me with those pretty wide blue eyes, cheeks as red as a beet–I felt victorious, like a caveman who’d dragged his prize from a pack of wolves.
I pushed all that down as I drove to Brighton City, knuckles turning white on the wheel. I needed to clear my head before I did something even dumber. Like kissing her. Or confessing something I shouldn’t even be feeling.
I headed for the office as I arrived at the ballpark, avoiding crossing paths with my other teammates. I specifically chose today to come here because this was a cool–down day for the team.
Dave Michael, our manager, was already waiting for me in his office. He stared at me with his usual passive face, arms crossed like he knew I was running from something.
“How nice of you to finally show up,” he said as I stepped inside his office.
“Good morning, Dave,” I greeted him curtly. “Jace said you wanted to see me.”
His eyes flicked to my left shoulder. “Yes, because you haven’t been answering my calls.
“I’ve been busy with my grandmother’s birthday,” I said, and Dave raised an eyebrow. He stared at me as if figuring out how the hell I am busy with Nana’s birthday celebration. I don’t give off the vibe of giving a shit about parties at all, much less planning them. That was Jace’s thing.
“Huh…” he hummed, unconvinced. “How’s the arm?”
I stiffened. “Fine.”
He gave me a look that said; I know you’re lying. “Have a seat.”
I’d rather not. Sitting meant that we’d be talking about something serious, but I sat. I owe Dave that much. “You’ve been watching the game?” He started, and I nodded in response.
Jace caught me up to date.”
‘And you know the team’s not doing good,” Dave said with a sigh, leaning back on his seat. The leather groaned
I nodded.
I know I gave you time until the division finals, but we might not be able to get there if you don’t play.”
My chest tightened again–but not because of Andi. Because of my first love. Baseball. I love playing, and I care about my team. I knew Dave would never call me here if it weren’t a pivotal time for the team.
Again, I nodded because my anxiety was pounding loudly in my chest. I need to play. My team needs me.
“Again, I will ask, how is your arm?”
“I’m fine,” I said. “Just tension.”
2/4
10.22 pm
Chapter 42
Dave exhaled through his nose. “So, can you play in the next game?”
I looked away. The words hovered on my tongue.
The pain. The numbness. The tightness. I can’t lift like before. I can’t throw at full power.
But if I tell him what’s really happening to me, he’ll pull me from the team and toss me into rehab. Everything the team worked for this season will crumble–all because I can’t fucking throw a ball.
“Sure, put me on the lineup,” I said, those words leaving a vile taste in my mouth.
“And your arm?” Dave wanted to make sure I am 100 percent in on this.
‘I’ll get it checked,” I muttered instead.
“Today,” he pressed.
“Today”
I kept my word.
My personal doctor, Dr. Herrera, was waiting in his clinic when I arrived.
‘How’s the shoulder?” he asked immediately.
‘I need to be back on the field.” I said with determination.
He pressed along the tight bands of muscle, checking mobility. The pain shot down my arm like lightning. I tried not to react, but he caught the flinch.
‘It’s not getting better, is it?” he asked, but he already knew the answer.
He sighed and went back to his chair, his fingers tapping against the keyboard as he recorded my current status. “Your TOS is worsening, Beckett, and I highly advise you to sit this season out.”
I didn’t respond. How do I even answer something like that? He spoke so calmly as if he hadn’t just told me to toss away all the efforts I had put into healing myself these past few months.
“We’ll run scans,” he said. “But Beckett… if you keep pushing this without addressing it seriously, you’re risking long–term damage.”
I closed my eyes. This was a choice he’d been laying out for me for a while now. Take a rest now and come back–or play now and never come back.
“Let’s just get the scans,” I said tightly.
He nodded. “I’ll schedule them. Stay off heavy training.”
I grunted, and my arm throbbed as if agreeing with my doctor.
I thought dealing with my baseball problems would make me feel better. Like it would help with the mental mest
But sitting here with my personal doctor made the dreaded night with Andi feel like a better option than dealing with my body and future falling apart.
10:22 pm
Chapter 43
M
Chapter 43
Cedella is a passionate storyteller known for her bold romantic and spicy novels that keep readers hooked from the very first chapter. With a flair for crafting emotionally intense plots and unforgettable characters, she blends love, desire, and drama into every story she writes. Cedella’s storytelling style is immersive and addictive—perfect for fans of heated romances and heart-pounding twists.

Comments
The readers' comments on the novel: Maid For Beckett Catching The Baseball Legend’s Heart