Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 44850 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 224(@200wpm)___ 179(@250wpm)___ 150(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 44850 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 224(@200wpm)___ 179(@250wpm)___ 150(@300wpm)
It sucks to have twenty-four hours with your dream woman and then have to go without them. I need more. She’s working a double shift so that means another week without her and that is what has me hateful as fuck.
“What’s going on?” Ryder asks, taking off his face mask because he’s been in the catcher position. We’re scrimmaging against each other to get real game practice in before the game. Normally, these are my favorite practices, but not so today. Then again, I’m not sure anything could make me happy today.
“The damn nickname rooster gave me. Tell me, Ryder, why in the fuck didn’t you tell me I had one?”
“Didn’t I? It must have slipped my mind,” the bastard lies.
“Yeah right.”
“I don’t know why you’re getting your panties twisted into a giant wedgie over it. Jesus you’re whining like a little girl,” Rooster complains. “I thought it was one of my better names.”
“What are you guys arguing about?” Parker asks, as him, and Finn come running to home plate.
Great, just what I needed. I don’t want to talk to anyone—especially about this.
“I’ll tell you what’s going on,” I grumble throwing the bat on the ground, completely disgusted. “Why am I just now hearing about the nickname you assholes gave me?”
“What nickname?” Parker asks. I scowl at him, but he actually looks clueless. I frown.
“It’s nothing,” I mutter just wanting to get away from all of them at this point. “Let’s finish this practice before coach comes back.”
“He’s acting like a little sissy-boy because I called him Beaver Tamer.”
The men laugh and I hate every single one of them.
“It’s a fucking cool name,” Finn laughs. I flip him off, but they’re all laughing like idiots, and I don’t think anyone even notices.
“You all can kiss my ass,” I mutter.
“Seriously, dude. Lighten up. We all have nicknames that Rooster gave us.”
“You all do?”
“Oh, yeah,” Finn laughs. “Tell him, Rooster.”
“He doesn’t deserve to know,” he pouts.
“Oh, go ahead tell him. The first one he named was Big Mike and Parker.”
I frown at Finn before my gaze moves to Parker. “What did you name them?” I ask Rooster.
“You nicknamed me?” Parker questions and at least I’m not the only one that was clueless.
“Shit, I’ve named all of you. I call you BT all the time. What in the tarnation did you think I meant when I called you that?” he asks, like I should have known all along.
“Fuck, I didn’t know,” I huff out. I don’t tell him that he’s got so many screws loose that I’m afraid his head is about to pop off at any time. “I just figured you were calling me Big Talent or some shit.”
“Full of yourself newbie?” Finn laughs.
“I want to know the other nicknames,” Parker insists. I could care less at this point, but I figure talking about the others will shift attention from me—which sounds like heaven right now.
“Big Mike is Mr. Heartbreaker because he gave my girl nothing but pain in the beginning.”
Mike lets out a harsh breath but doesn’t say anything. Violet is his world, and I can see regret in his eyes.
“What’s mine?” Parker demands, and I’m thinking he’s as unhappy as I am at finding out about the nicknames.
“Mr. Off Limits,” Rooster says and Parker sucks in a breath.
“Motherfucker,” he growls and stomps off.
“Why do they get Mr. before their fucking names not to mention classier ones?” I do sound like a damn baby, but if Marigold had heard Mr. Heartbreaker at least she wouldn’t have wanted to run away. Shit, I’m surprised she even came to my apartment after Green told her.
“Oh, I’m sorry, did I hurt your little feelings? You younger kids these days get your feelings hurt at the drop of a hat and most of the time you drop the hat. Tell you what, I’ll change it to Mr. Beaver Tamer. Is that better?”
“You’re an asshole, Rooster.”
“Been called worse. I added mister because Parker was kind of baseball royalty at the time. I can see your point, though. I’ll add it till all of them.”
“Hmmm… I like mine without the mister,” Ryder says. “Mr. Headboard Breaker doesn’t have the same ring.”
“Headboard Breaker?” I repeat. “Give me a damn break. Why couldn’t you give me a name like that one? That’s something that will make a girl run to you—not away!”
“Well, for starters, you didn’t get held up by hotel security for busting out a wall and sending the headboard of your bed through it.”
“Damn hotel was a fleabag, and the walls literally were paper thin. I don’t know why they raised such a fuss anyway. We just livened up the place. You should have seen that old man’s face. The television was on the wall. When it crashed to the floor, he just kept looking at us. He thought we were a 3-D porn movie he was so drunk,” Ryder laughs.