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I yanked her hand down. “Can we not point?” My face flamed, and thanks to my pale complexion, it would be obvious to anyone in a ten-foot radius.
My friends, who loved to torment me until I blushed, laughed.
“Don’t make a scene.” I buried my face in my hands. “I’m seriously not hooking up with anyone tonight. Can’t it just be a girls’ night?”
“Too late. They’re coming this way,” Jana said.
I groaned into my hands. I loved my besties. I did. But I wasn’t sleeping with a random guy to break my loser spell, regardless of how brilliant my friends thought their plan was. Even if I was willing to consider it, I wouldn’t pick the broody dude who was probably headed our way so he could yell at us.
To break the spell, all I needed to do was pay more attention. Learn to stay away from the guys who were more interested in getting to know my father than me. Find a man who listened when I talked. One who didn’t perk up when I mentioned my last name.
When the heat in my cheeks had cooled a fraction, I sat up again. Immediately, my focus landed on the two guys who were closing in quickly. Part of me wanted to panic. To get up and bolt out the door. But the odds were in my favor, weren’t they? There were two guys and three of us. And in this trio, I was consistently the one who could fade into the background. So that’s what I’d do. Then I’d make a quick escape.
“Are you going to be a dick?”Emerson Knight, my teammate, dragged me across the bar toward the three women pointing at us. Normally, being pointed at like I was a spectacle gave me the urge to run in the other direction, but the gorgeous blond was…intriguing. She wasn’t showy like the women who flanked her. They were dressed to attract every male in the bar, but she was all big blue eyes, long silky hair, and perfect skin. Even the way the deep red blush crept up her cheeks was cute. And although I wouldn’t tell my teammate that her smile hit me like a massive kick in my gut, I couldn’t deny I was interested enough to buyhera drink.
“I’m never a dick,” I gritted out.
His response was simply to laugh. We’d met in AAA ball and had played together for three years, so at this point, he knew me.
Emerson and I shared an apartment in Boston like we had in upstate New York, and tonight, he’d dragged me out for a drink at the bar around the block. Though I had no interest in being social, I had to admit it wasn’t a bad idea. I could use the distraction to release some of the pressure building up inside me over my first game as a starting major league pitcher.
Tomorrow. Nerves clawed up my throat, but I locked my jaw and stomped that shit down. Winning was about confidence.
“Come on, Dragon. Boston won’t be like Florida.”
Spring training in Florida had been unreal. In the minors, there were usually women around, but the intensity was nothing compared to the ball bunnies who flocked to spring training. Aggressive and in my face, and that wasn’t for me. I wasn’t the type of guy who fucked just anyone. If there wasn’t chemistry, then it wasn’t worth my time.
“Pretend we’re still a pair of nobodies in the hills of New York. They might not even watch baseball. Just ’cause they were pointing doesn’t mean they know us.” He ran his hand through his hair. “I’m hot as fuck. Women tend to see me, whether they know who I am or not.”
I snorted. Emerson was something, that was for sure.
Although he was a few years younger than me, we’d both been called up to the major league baseball team in Boston this year. He’d been brought up as the Revs’ new third baseman just before spring training had begun, and I’d gotten the call two weeks into it.
I’d always thought that if this day came, I’d be living the dream. And I supposed I was in some ways. But damn, I was desperate for a night where no one was focused on how I threw the ball or said the wrong thing to a reporter. If one more person told me it would help if I stopped giving them dumb sound bites, I might break something. Dad told me to brush it off. And I was working on letting shit go. But I didn’t make it to the MLB by being a quitter, so it wasn’t easy.
“How about we don’t talk baseball at all? It could be fun. All three of them are smoking hot.” He elbowed me.
He was practically skipping next to me. Like a happy little puppy. If a rainbow unicorn mated with the Energizer Bunny, the result would be Emerson Knight.
I grunted at him, which he took to mean I was unhappy.
“Stop with the pissed-off vibe.”
I huffed in response, giving him side-eye. Just ’cause I didn’t shit rainbows all the time didn’t mean I was mad. “No baseball. We don’t play it. We don’t follow it. We aren’t even fans of the fucking sport.”
“Okay.” He smiled. “I’m a garbage man.”
I stumbled over my own feet and gaped at him. “Why?”
He shrugged, his entire being practically sparkling at the fuckingidea. “It sounds fun.” He whacked my arm three times in his normal lack of personal space. “We can collect the stuff that people throw out. Wanna be a garbage man too?”
Why in God’s name would I want to hoard other people’s trash?
“No.” I tossed both hands in the air. “Not at all.”
He chuckled, but he didn’t seem surprised by either my exasperation or my answer.
I came out tonight to relax, notlie. “We’re not making up careers. I’d rather say I’m unemployed than talk about a job.”
