The Trouble with Players by J. Nathan

Author:J. Nathan [Nathan, J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-06-16T18:30:00+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

“Your hair’s not pink,” the little leaguer from the last game said as he stopped in front of me on the host family hill.

“Then how in the world did you recognize me?” I asked him.

“Crew told me it was you,” he said.

“Did he threaten to hit me another home run?”

He smiled.

“He did, didn’t he?”

He nodded. “He said this time he’s goin’ yard.”

“And, you believe he’ll do it?” I asked.

“Crew’s the best player on the Sharks. Of course he’ll do it.”

“He likes her,” Gina interrupted.

“Gross,” the kid said before taking off to find his seat.

“So?” Gina prompted.

“So, what?”

“So, why’d you ask me to come to the game?”

I shrugged.

“Peyton,” she probed.

“Fine. I took your advice,” I said as my eyes latched onto Crew at shortstop. I wished I wasn’t visualizing him naked when he looked so damn hot in his uniform.

“Which advice?” Gina asked. “I tend to give a lot of it.”

“The part about getting it out of our systems.”

She screeched.

I reached over and cupped her mouth with my hand since people around us had turned to look. “I’m gonna need you to calm down.”

She nodded.

I slowly removed my hand.

“I can’t freakin’ believe it,” she whispered. “How was it? Amazing? I’m sure it was amazing. Look at the guy. He’s like a freaking underwear model.”

I pursed my lips. “It was pretty amazing.”

“I knew it.”

I laughed.

“Are you gonna do it again?”

I nodded.

She screeched.

I covered her mouth as heads turned again. “Shhhhh.”

She nodded like a little kid who’d been scolded.

I reluctantly removed my hand. “Girl, keep your calm.”

“I’m sorry. I’m just so dang happy for you. I’ve been worried about you. But now, you’re happy. And I want you to stay that way.”

I wrapped my arm around her shoulders and pulled her into me. “How’d I get so lucky to have you in my life?”

“Goes both ways,” she said as the inning ended and the Sharks jogged off the field.

“When’s their next night off?” I asked.

“Next Tuesday. Why? Wanna go on a double date?” she asked.

“I’m not sure if we’re that official.”

“Well, if you want to. We can.”

“There’s a lot of time between now and Tuesday.”

“What’s that mean?”

“It means we could go back to hating each other by then,” I explained.

On the field, the Sharks were up to bat. Crew stepped into the batter’s box. His hands tightened around the grip of the bat, and I couldn’t help but envision those hands last night gripping my skin. The uniform’s short sleeves molded to his biceps, and my mind shifted to my own hands clutching his skin. The pitcher delivered his first pitch. Crew swung, and the bat connected with the ball. Fans around us jumped to their feet as the ball sailed over the center fielder’s head and continued over the fence behind him.

The fans exploded with cheers as I clapped for the impressive hit from my seat.

Crew circled the bases like he had the first time, his head down and the gloating nonexistent. When he reached home, the on-deck batter bumped his fist.

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