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My mind was already in an epic battle with my heart, and then there was my body which was on another planet completely. I wanted to hate him. I wanted to love him. And I was turned on as fucking hell. All at once.
I wasn’t sure if I wanted to wrap my hand around his throat or his dick.
“You got it?” he asked, and I could hear the smile in his voice. He was loving this, getting his damn kicks out of tormenting and teasing me. He picked up the helmet that Harlyn had on, which was too big for her, and plonked it right on my head with a thump. Tapping it twice for good measure. “You hit the ball. I’ll let you take me home.” That was the bargain. “You miss…Iget to takeyouhome.”
I finally moved, ducking out his arms and turning on him. I held the bat up, pointing it directly at him while narrowing my eyes on the cocky asshole. He raised his hands like I was pointing a gun at his chest, but it didn’t wipe the smile off his face.
“That wasn’t the deal,” I argued, but of course, he ignored me and wandered off, heading straight for the pitching machine. “Hamlet! That wasn’t the deal.”
“I’ll give you three chances, fury fists,” he called over his shoulder, ignoring my protests.
The heat in my cheeks began to build, but in all honesty, I was trying to fight a smile.
This was my Ham.
He was a smart ass.
He liked to push me.
And no matter how much it annoyed me sometimes, I kind of loved it too.
He took a ball from the basket at the other end of the pitch, a grin on his face as he dropped it into the machine, and half a second later, it was flying toward me at a pace that would knock me straight on my ass. I cursed and leaped back, the pitch flying straight over the base and missing me by a few feet.
“Are you fucking crazy?” I yelled, my eyes wide as I watched him reach for the second ball.
“Number two!”
Whoosh, another ball flew through the air, clanging against the fence behind the pitch while I just stared on like he’d lost his fucking mind.
“Last chance,” he warned, the corner of his mouth kicked up in a grin like he knew he’d already won.
I gritted my teeth and finally raised the bat to my shoulder, accepting the challenge he was laying down. At that point, I didn’t give a shit if I hit it or missed, I just wasn’t about to let him get away with thinking he could use these stupid little games to try and win me back or control me—whatever the hell his motivation was here.
I saw his smile grow even wider as he realized I was actually going to have a shot at this.
“That’s my girl.” He dropped the ball. “Three.”
