The Ninth Inning (The Boys of Baseball #1) - J. Sterling Page 0,17
he warned in vain to keep us all in line, but something he followed through on as well. I’d seen him do it my freshman year. When two of the guys on the team had fought over some chick, Coach had benched them both. During playoffs. We lost that year.
He’d followed up his decision with a speech that started with, “No pussy coming between my players,” which of course forced us to all fight back laughter, and ended with, “You have all the time in the world to let females ruin your life. You don’t have that with baseball. Get your head in the game or get off my field.”
Teammates didn’t poach on their teammates’ exes. It went without saying that if one of us had dated a girl, she was off-limits to the rest of us. But then again, Christina and I had never officially been together, so those rules didn’t necessarily apply. An ex-girlfriend was one thing, but hooking up wasn’t. And if they weren’t even remotely on the same level, then why did I feel so betrayed?
“If you want my sloppy seconds, be my guest.” It was rude as shit, and I didn’t mean a single word of it, but Logan was trying to rattle me, and I couldn’t let him know just how badly he had.
“I think I will,” he said before Coach Jackson waved us in. We started jogging toward the dugout, and he turned to offer one last dig. “I won’t ask for permission when I steal your position next.”
This motherfucker thinks he’s going to steal my girl and my position? Over my dead body.
Guys in Bands
Christina
The party had left me rattled emotionally. Seeing Cole had broken the proverbial cage I’d kept him in the past seven months wide open and obliterated it to pieces. It had been made of cheap plastic anyway, so it really was to be expected. But now, he was out in the open again, free to torment my days. I’d tossed and turned in the three nights since I last saw him, sleep eluding me as I replayed our interaction, angry that I was back in this fucked up, emotional place again.
I was pissed at myself. For going to the party, for letting Lauren suggest the idea, and for me agreeing that it was a good one. I had known that seeing Cole could potentially wreck me. Okay, I hadn’t known, but I’d damn well suspected that could be the case. Sucking in a breath, I resisted my own thoughts. I was not wrecked. Cole did not wreck me. He’d stopped having that ability months ago, and I was not some weak girl who couldn’t get over a guy.
Although, to be fair, him grabbing my face and kissing me like he actually missed me could have been so much hotter if it had actually meant something. But it hadn’t. It was just more of his games. More of his bullshit. More things to add to my list of What Not to Look for in a Guy. I mean, if I’d had a list like that in the first place.
A quick knock on my bedroom door had me looking up.
“Are you almost ready to go?” Lauren asked, her purse and notebook in her hand.
Glancing down at my feet to make sure I had shoes on, I nodded. “Yep. One sec,” I said as I pushed off the bed and made my way into my bathroom for a quick swish of mouthwash. I avoided overanalyzing the fact that my eyes looked tired and that I wasn’t skilled enough in makeup techniques to cover the light bags that had started to appear underneath them.
“You didn’t sleep again, did you?” Lauren asked as soon as I exited my room and met her in the hallway.
“I did,” I lied, and she gave me an eye roll. “Just not very much.”
“This is all my fault,” she groaned as she walked toward the front door and held it open for me to go through before locking it behind us.
“It isn’t. And I swear, I’m not trying to not sleep. I want to sleep. I want it so bad. I think it’s avoiding me because I keep chasing it so hard,” I said with a sick laugh, realizing the irony and apparent theme of my life.
“Well, if it makes you feel better,” she said as we walked into the brisk morning air, “there’s a live band playing at The Bar tonight. I think we should go.”