Page 30 of Convincing the Catcher

CANE

In the final inning of the girls’ game, a switch in the catcher makes me realize that Harley must have had something happen because she was playing a-fucking-mazingly the entire time. And as I stand there along the fence with Cash beside me, who’s been asking why the hell we’re here, I am mesmerized by her.

“So, first, Harley Meadows bids on you at the auction. And now you’re creeping on her at her game,” Cash mutters beside me. “You really like her, huh?”

“Shut up,” I grumble as the two teams shake hands. “We’re just friends, asshole.”

“Yeah, but when did that even happen?” My brother sounds genuinely confused. “Also, I’m kind of surprised, to be honest”—he pauses—“that Harland Meadows would even be your friend.”

“Everyone calls her Harley, Cash.” I side-glance him, not wanting him to use her full name because for some reason, I like to be the only one who calls her by it. “And why are you surprised? I’m a baseball player. She’s a softball player—a really good one. We both work hard for our team. I mean, why wouldn’t we be friends?”

He’s silent before he chuckles so quietly that I barely catch it. “Well, let’s see … because from what I’ve heard, that girl doesn’t drink. She doesn’t party. Hell, she doesn’t even hook up.” He shrugs. “And you? Well, you just got your ass suspended for a few days for literally driving out of your way to fuck up another team’s dugout. Even though I still don’t think you did it. But either way, I’m letting it go.”

I hate lying to my brother, but there’s no sense in coming clean now. Then again, I’m lying even more now because I told him Harley and I were friends when, in reality, that girl is only my friend because I’m paying for her medication.

For now anyway. Once she gets to know me, she’ll want to be my real friend.

Hopefully more too.

“Whatever,” I mutter, shaking him off.

I continue to stand along the fence, but then he stands in front of me.

“Are we going to go now so that I can get to practice or …”

Pulling my phone out, I frown. “Cash, your practice doesn’t even start for nearly two hours. I don’t know if you realize this, but you don’t always have to get to the arena so early.”

He glares at me, though he’s not actually mad, I’m sure. Cash lives for hockey. And while I dedicate myself to the baseball program here at NEU and try always to give one hundred percent, even I’m not the guy showing up an hour early to practice.

He looks at me before glancing behind himself.

“Oh, I get it. You want to hang around and tell this friend of yours she had a good game.” He grins, hitting my stomach lightly. “You’re down bad, huh, big bro?”

Behind his head, I see some softball players filing out of the dugout. If Harley is anything like the catchers on our team, she’ll be the last one out because they have the most shit to pack up.

When I give him a shove, he steps beside me again, and I ignore the amused smirk on his lips. Out of the pair of us, I’m the one who chases women way more. But chasing to me means hooking up, not watching them play a scrimmage without them realizing I’m there and then hanging out after to say good job.

Harley heads toward us with her friend and the team’s shortstop, Haven King, beside her. Haven’s father is a football legacy here at NEU, and now he’s returned to coach the football team. NEU is becoming practically a King command—seeing as her uncle is my assistant coach, too.

Harley says something to Haven, and they both laugh, but when her eyes snap forward, she sees me and almost stops completely in her tracks. Slowly, she holds her hand up and waves before heading toward us, and I take a few steps toward her too.

Her friend stays beside her, and there’s no missing the grin tugging at her lips as she watches both of us.

“Good game, Catch,” I say, tipping my chin up at Haven. “You too, King.” I chuckle. “That double play you two had at second and home in the fourth inning was slick.”

I’m not just saying that either. When a girl hit the ball toward short, Haven leaped to catch it, landing on her stomach before getting the out at second base and throwing it home to Harley, where she tagged the runner out there, ending the inning on a high. They were absolutely seamless, and while I’ve never watched too much women’s softball here at NEU … I’m officially a fan.

“Hell yeah, it was,” Haven agrees before smacking Harley on the shoulder. “I have to go see my parents before they take off. Catch you at home?”

Harley nods, and Haven waves to me and my brother before jogging off, her braid swinging down her back.

“Harley, this is my brother, Cash,” I say.

Cash being Cash, he instantly holds his hand out.

Harley takes it, giving it a small shake. “Nice to meet you. You’re the freshman goalie everyone is raving about, right?”

My brother doesn’t have a bragging bone in his body, so I can pretty much guess his response before he even opens his mouth.