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“And we don’t toss the ball around the bases after an out.” He shook his head, but I just walked away, not giving a shit what hethought. There were a lot of germs on the ball, and the fewer people that touched it, the better.
As I stepped onto the sand of the pitching mound for the first time as a major league player, my heart clenched. The bright light that shone down and the roar of the crowd sent goose bumps skittering along my arms. I’d worked my entire life to get here, and I was going to smash the hell out of this game.
I pulled in a deep breath and pushed aside all thoughts that didn’t affect what was happening on this field. Then I exhaled and focused on the catcher just in time to see my favorite sign. Yes, I would come out with a bang. I gave him a nod, and with one more cleansing breath, I wound up and let the ball fly.
It roared past the batter and hit the glove with thethwapthat I had no doubt made the guy’s hand burn. A beautiful104flashed on the jumbo screens around the field, and the crowd went crazy. The running joke was that my nickname came from my surly attitude, but the people who really paid attention to the sport knew I went by Dragon because I threw the fire, and for seven innings I did. Which was why it was a kick in the balls to see Coach Wilson trotting across the grass to the mound one batter into the eighth inning.
“It’s my second fucking walk of the game,” I growled. Pulling me now would be utter bullshit.
“And it’s the top of the eighth. There’s no reason to kill your arm or our chance at winning because you want a higher pitch count.” Coach Wilson held his hand out for the ball.
“I said I’mnotdone.”
Coaching was about more than just commanding players. Listening was just as vital as every other aspect. My coach with the farm team understood that a pitcher knew his own arm. This asshole didn’t get that.
Jaw locked tight, he narrowed his blue eyes on me. “I said you are. And who is the coach of this team?”
I glared straight back at him. “Apparently Satan.” With that, I shoved the ball into his stomach hard and stormed across the grass and down the steps to the dugout, silently putting a curse on that man and all his future offspring.
July
“Oh, how I missed this view.” Jana surveyed the field below us.
“I know.” Wren lifted one brow and smirked.
The three of us were in my dad’s box at Lang Field, watching the game. I’d successfully avoided the place all season, but the girls were dead set on coming today and wouldn’t take no for an answer.
“Avery might hate the baseball boys, but man, do I love their pants.” Wren tilted forward and tapped her plastic wine cup against Jana’s.
“And damn, the new catcher’s ass is perfection.” She hummed and stared at Cortney Miller as he squatted behind the plate. “Even with your ban on all things male, you have to admit that.”
“I didn’t ban all things men.” Dramatic much? I had just decided that the answer to my dating problem was to take a time out. “I’m taking a year off from dating. That’s all.”
“And a year off from orgasms,” Wren scoffed, bringing her wine to her lips.
“Just the male-induced ones.” Jana patted my knee and bumpedher shoulder against mine. “Did you try that Starlight clit stimulator I sent you?”
“Yeah, and oh my God?—”
The sound of a throat clearing had me snapping my mouth shut. I held my breath and peered over at the box next to us. When I caught sight of the team’s owner, Beckett Langfield, my face flamed. He was standing at the railing not ten feet from us. Although his box was next to my dad’s, he was usually inside, not in the open-air seats near where we typically sat.
Oh, good lord. Please don’t let him have heard me.
Not only was he Dad’s boss, but the guy was gorgeous. He was very Henry Cavill-esque andveryhappily married.
At least I hadn’t finished my sentence. If I had, I’d never be able to look the man in the eye again. His younger and equally hot brother stepped up next to him in a matching Revs jersey.
“Ladies.” Gavin smiled. “Love the throwback Wilson jersey, Avery.”
“Gotta support Dad.” I shrugged and glanced down at the jersey my dad had given me years ago. The blue jersey sporting the original logo with the drums and stars matched one of the three soldier mascots in the grass.
Gavin assessed each of us, his brown eyes warm as always. “We haven’t had the pleasure of seeing you yet this season.”
“Avery’s avoiding baseball this year, but we forced her to come today so we could see the new catcher.” Wren pointed to number eight.
“Yes, we want an introduction to that Thor-like god, Cortney Miller.” Jana waggled her brows.
“Doesn’t Tom have rules about you fraternizing with the players?” Beckett frowned at my friends, shoving his hands into his pockets.
