Behind the Plate (The Boys of Baseball #2) - J. Sterling Page 0,9
New York, but you couldn’t take New York out of the girl.
We pushed through the front door and were greeted by a ridiculous amount of people. All the lights in the house were on, and from a quick sweep of the room, I could see there seemed to be an equal ratio of guys to girls, which was surprising. Usually, at any party, one gender outnumbered the other by a significant amount.
“Woohoo! I can’t believe we’re actually here,” Sunny shouted over the noise in my direction.
I hated that she was so starstruck over these guys.
“It’s a college party. We’re in college.” I leveled her with a hard stare. “Where else would we be?”
“But it’s the baseball team. I mean, Mac Davies and Chance Carter are somewhere in this house right now! So are Colin Anderson and Dayton Mawlry. Hello! How are you not excited?”
She waved a hand in front of my face, but I refused to blink and pretended to be bored.
I wished I’d had no idea what those names meant or who she was talking about, but I did. I’d recognized every single one as she rattled them off. I could have blamed the fact that I’d worked in sports tutoring for the last three years before I stopped, but it was more than that. There was no way that someone could go to school here and not eventually learn the names of the athletes who were likely to go pro. It was literally unavoidable, no matter how hard you tried.
Posters of the teams littered the campus walls at every turn, changing out, depending on the season. But in the meantime, they were everywhere—on the buildings, in the girls’ restroom, wrapped around light poles. The art department spray-painted graffiti depicting certain players outside their halls. Even the campus bookstore had their walls strewn with the faces and names of various athletes. And they sold postcards of the teams that you could buy and mail out. Postcards! For mailing! Who the hell wanted a postcard of a bunch of guys they didn’t know?
“Ladies.” The voice pulled both of our attention.
Mac Davies. I knew who he was the second my eyes followed his voice. He was actually adorable—as far as surfer-looking, light-haired guys went. But he wasn’t my type. I liked my guys tall and dark. Not that I was looking since I had a boyfriend and all that.
“I’m Mac. Your host for this evening.” He winked, and before he could say another word, I started to leave, accidentally ramming into his shoulder on my way out. He grabbed me, most likely to help steady me on my feet, but I didn’t like it.
“I’m not interested,” I said before maneuvering out of his grip. “But she probably is.” I thumbed toward Sunny, who was standing there, blushing like a schoolgirl with a major crush.
I knew I came across abrasive to some people, but I honestly never really meant to. It was just that the attitude here was so different from back home. No one was ever offended by my remarks or opinions in New York. But out here, they acted like I’d slighted them somehow or hurt their feelings when I was just being honest. I wasn’t the type to beat around the bush or act fake, and that seemed to be what Californians had been raised on. Sunny always encouraged me to deliver my words in a softer tone, but I didn’t know how.
Walking away from Sunny and Mac, I looked around the space, wondering where the best place to escape might be. I knew I couldn’t hide in a bathroom all night even if the idea sounded good. Someone would eventually need to get in there, and I didn’t want to be lounging in the tub, reading a book, while they broke the door down to get in. After seeing how crowded the kitchen and the living room were, I decided to wander into the backyard, hoping for a dark corner. I wasn’t trying to be antisocial, but I usually went to parties with Jared, and whenever he wasn’t around, it looked like I was single and ready to mingle. Some guys didn’t take no for an answer very well, especially when you added alcohol and egos into the mix.
The backyard had little twinkling lights hanging all around, and instead of being annoyed by the cheesiness of it, I found it endearing and almost calming. A small group of people were standing around a keg, but a knee-high concrete