Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 122219 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 611(@200wpm)___ 489(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122219 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 611(@200wpm)___ 489(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
“You fucking rock star,” River said, playfully shoving Avery. “First you get us a baseball win, then you gift me with another win.”
“I had a good feeling you’d bring some good vibes to the property,” Grant said, complimenting Avery.
She laughed and bowed. “What can I say? I’m a useful woman.”
“Damn straight you are,” River said, placing his hands against her shoulders in celebration.
“Drop the scowl, you’re starting to look a little too much like me,” Evan whispered as he nudged me in the arm.
I shook my head. “I’m not scowling,” I said with, indeed, a scowl.
He chuckled slightly and shrugged. “Whatever you say, Nate. Whatever you say.”
After the guys were done celebrating with Avery, she walked over to me with the kind of smile that made my own grumpiness dissipate.
I gave her a slow clap. “Not bad, Coach.”
“I bet you didn’t know I was such a good actress.”
“Some might’ve said you weren’t acting at all,” I sarcastically remarked. “It seemed a little too realistic.”
Raising an eyebrow, she shifted her stance, hands on her hips. “What’s that, Nathan? A tinge of jealousy?”
Dismissing her accusation, I heavily sighed and shook my head. “Jealous? Me? Not in the slightest.”
She stepped closer to me. “Maybe a little slightest?”
Her proximity felt foreign to me. Like a dream I’d been dreaming of for a long-ass time coming true. Was that…playfulness in her stare, too? Was Avery being playful with me again? This day was taking a turn I didn’t expect it to take.
“Maybe a little,” I confessed, stepping in closer, too. I’d move in closer and closer as long as she allowed it. “A tiny bit.”
“Don’t worry, Nathaniel.” Her smile grew, and she placed a comforting hand against my forearm. “River’s not my type.”
“And what is your type, Coach?”
With a mischievous glint in her eyes, she gave me a once-over, a playful look on her face, before she coyly started off toward her table. “I need more mimosas.”
This woman was going to be the end of me.
I followed her footsteps like a puppy dog in need of its owner’s attention. “I’m just saying. Wesley didn’t exactly seem like your type to me.”
She glanced back at me and arched an eyebrow. “Is that so?”
“That’s so.”
“And what about Wesley didn’t seem like my type?”
“He seemed weak.”
“You think I don’t have a thing for weak men?”
“I know you don’t have a thing for weak men.”
“Okay, wise guy. You seem to know me well. So you tell me,” she said as she picked up her Mason jar and took a swig. “What do you think my type is?”
I swiped her Mason jar from her grip and took a sip, too. “Someone with a dash of cockiness and a sprinkle of charm.”
“True. And maybe handsome, too. And funny.”
“I’m hilarious,” I said with a wide grin. “Knock, knock.”
“Who’s there?”
“Your future husband.”
She rolled her eyes. I loved when she rolled her eyes at me. She did it so dramatically that I couldn’t help but feel turned on.
“You’re not my type, Nathaniel,” she said.
“Why’s that?”
She snatched her drink back. “Because you annoy me too much.”
“That sounds like a compliment.”
“That’s only because your peanut brain doesn’t know how to decipher insults from compliments.”
I smirked. “Thanks, Coach.”
Another eye roll. “Truthfully, I don’t have a type. I don’t like men, so that makes it next to impossible for me to have a type. Most of you just piss me off.”
“You seem to like my brothers well enough.”
“That’s because they aren’t major pains in my ass.”
“I don’t have to be a pain in your ass.” I narrowed my brows. “Unless you request me to be a pain in your ass, if you’re into butt stuff.”
She laughed.
I liked that even more than the eye rolls.
“This conversation is over,” she ordered as she took a seat back at the table.
I sat across from her. “Okay, what do you want to talk about now?”
“I was somewhat interested in our conversation before Easton interrupted it.”
A knot formed in my gut as she said those words. The last thing I wanted to talk about was me and my mother’s concern about me. I’d rather talk about anything else in the world but that. “That was a pretty boring conversation. I’d rather go back to talking about putting a pain in your ass.”
Her eyes narrowed as she studied me, a seriousness finding her stare. “What does the rest of your day look like today?”
“Nothing too much. Why?”
She leaned in toward me. “Do you want to hang out with me today on the field here and hit some balls?”
I leaned in toward her. “Yes.”
“Around seven this evening?”
“It’s a date.”
“It’s not a date.”
“It’s hanging out between two friends.”
“We are not friends.”
“It’s a batting round between two roommates.”
“Okay. That works.” She shoved her plate toward me. “Now, go get me some more of your sausage. I’m still hungry.”