Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 83102 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83102 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
“And you’re not with them behind closed doors,” I point out.
Her green eyes slice over to me and then narrow. “Why does it seem to bother you so much? You’re putting a dent in that water bottle.”
I loosen my grip and the plastic crinkles back to its original shape.
“I just don’t think it’s right. Charlotte seems innocent and sweet, I’d hate for Sawyer to ruin her.”
“Innocent and sweet? Ruin her?!” She laughs. “You’ve known the girl five minutes.”
“In some ways I’ve known her all my life,” I say ominously.
“Okay, weirdo.” She crosses her arms and turns to face me. “Are you high? Did David give you one of his gummies?”
“What?! No, I—”
“Enough chitchat!” Jimmy calls out to everyone. “Get in your batting order or we’ll be here all day!”
There’s shuffling in the dugout as everyone digs in their baseball bags for their equipment: decades-old batting gloves and huge packets of Big League Chew. I have nothing on me. I assume when it’s my turn to take the plate, someone will shove a bat in my hand. I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it.
The lineup is as expected with Sawyer, Hunter, and David up at the top. Charlotte is right in front of me and I’m dead last, as promised. She and I eagerly look on as Sawyer takes the plate. Obviously, I check out his butt as he walks because it’s a good-looking butt and I get so little joy out of life these days. Then he settles into his stance and god, he’s a natural. Confidence billows off of him as he whirls his bat around and then settles in place. His strong biceps draw my attention for so long I forget to blink. A glance at Charlotte confirms she’s in the same predicament. Our eyes are about to start watering.
I lean toward her. “So things between you and Sawyer are pretty serious?”
Her eyes widen in shock as she turns to me. “What do you mean?”
“Just…it’s obvious you two are dating.”
“We’re not,” she answers vehemently. Her cheeks turn a pretty shade of pink. “Not really.”
“But you’d be open to the idea obviously.”
She cringes. “Is it obvious?”
“Don’t worry. I grew up with him. I know the appeal.”
She sags with relief. “So then you get it.”
“Get what?”
“That it’s kind of impossible to resist him.”
I look back just in time to see him connect bat to ball on the first pitch and send it sailing into the air. It’s going…going…gone. Our entire dugout erupts in cheers except for me.
When Charlotte settles back into her seat after she finishes clapping, I trudge on. “Does he give you any sign that he shares your feelings?”
“Umm…” She nibbles on her bottom lip, trying to think, or maybe trying to decide how much she can trust me.
In case it’s the latter, I hold my hand out and touch her forearm reassuringly. “You don’t have to get into it if you don’t want to.”
“No, it’s actually nice to have someone to talk to about all this. I mean, he hasn’t asked me out on a date or anything, but he’s always going out of his way to be nice to me.”
I have to tamp down my eagerness. “Give me an example.”
She angles herself toward me and lowers her voice. “A few weeks back, I was at the grocery store and it started pouring. He saw me stranded there and he got my keys, ran in the rain to get my car, and helped me load everything in.”
“That is nice,” I say, nodding eagerly. “What else?”
“He bought my coffee for me last week at Blue Sky Roasters,” she adds eagerly.
“Because y’all were there together?” I ask hopefully.
She frowns. “No, I was just behind him in line.”
I hum, mulling this over and considering it from all sides. A small part of me understands that I’m acting like a detective trying to solve a case with a suspect already in mind; I’m arranging the facts to fit my narrative, but I toss that thought aside. Who cares? Sawyer probably is a heartbreaker.
“Oh!” she exclaims. “And when I talk, it’s like he really listens.”
Now see this is very damning evidence because what guy does that?!
I hold up my hand. “Say no more. I totally understand.”
Sawyer’s finished rounding the bases and claiming the run for his homer. On his way into the dugout, he gets a high five from everyone he passes right up until he reaches me. He plops down on the wooden bench, and his thigh brushes mine. I push my leg back against his to hold my territory, but he doesn’t move. He smells faintly of sweat, but mostly of delicious man. I hate it. I love it.
“You look flushed.”
He smirks. “Didn’t you see my homer?”
“Charlotte and I were talking. Sorry I missed it.”
“I didn’t! It was great!” Charlotte tells him, leaning over me to smile at him. “You really should have gone pro.”