Pitcher Perfect (Big Shots, #4)

by Tessa Bailey

“Admit you still listen to it.” “What? No, I don’t. I don’t.” “Liar. You lie so hard. Show me your list of most-listened-to songs.” “You will never see that. Ever—” He wrestled the phone out of her pocket and ran, his laugh booming through the park when she sprinted after him and jumped on his back. “No password, Rocket? I could have been snooping while you slept this whole time?” She gave up the useless task of trying to get the device away from him and deflated on his back, her chin coming to a hard rest on his shoulder, watching as he tapped his way into Spotify, blushing and hiding her face in his neck when he reached the list. “No. No way, Skylar. No.” “Afraid so.” “‘Get’cha Head in the Game’? You let me show you that video of me singing in the shower and wallow alone in my embarrassment when it’s . . .” He barked a laugh. “Number three on your most played?” “I was going to tell you when the time was right, when my Kit Harington diary entry wasn’t still stinging.” She jerked a shoulder. “It’s a good hype song.” “The best.” “Hmm. Maybe not the best—” “I’m talking about you. You are the best.” Robbie dropped to his knees with her still on his back, swinging her around at the same time, so he could catch her and set her down gently in the grass, even as his sides shook with mirth. “You’re going to kill me being so goddamn cute.” Skylar pushed at his shoulders. “I’m not cute. I’m intimidating. I can dribble and sing at the same time, as well as any Wildcat.” He lost it, f...