“You…Googled me,” he says again, his accent making that word sound so much better than it does when it leaves my lips.
“Yeah, well…your on-base percentage is impressive. So I found a video and watched it. Noticed your swing. That’s it.” I actually feel angry now, and I don’t know why.
“You watched my swing. And…on-base percentage?” He seems shocked that I know what I’m talking about, and for some reason, it pisses me off.
“You’re being kinda sexist, don’t you think?” I say, picking up my step to catch up with the others.
“I’m sorry…you’re cyber-stalking me, and I’m the one being creepy?” he asks, half laughing.
“First of all, I didn’t call you creepy, I called you sexist. And I wasn’t stalking you. I just like to do a little background checking on people before I trust them. And you stalked me first, mister Rowe with an E on Facebook!” I actually huff that last part out and am somehow able to hear how crazy my rant sounds. I look at him from the corner of my eye and catch his snicker. Soon we’re both laughing.
“Fair enough,” he says. “Okay, just tell me this. How do you know so much about baseball?”
“My dad coaches for a high school. I’m a bit of a sponge for knowledge. And when you’re homeschooled, you end up watching a lot of day games on television,” I say, my mind trying to block out all of Josh’s games I used to watch.
Nate’s stare is intense, and he doesn’t say anything for a while, which only makes my discomfort grow. By the time we reach the dorm, my head is pounding—partly from my fainting spell, and partly from the stress now rolling over and over inside me. When the elevator reaches our floor, everyone turns toward Nate and Ty’s room, but I stop.
“Aren’t you coming?” Nate asks. I catch Paige’s eyes looking at me over his shoulder, begging me not to. A defining moment—and I know that if I went, this flirting thing I’ve been doing with Nate would only continue. And where could that possibly go?
“I can’t. I’m still not feeling so well. I’m going to go to bed. But you guys have fun. I’ll catch up with you later,” I say, the strange tinge of regret eating away at my insides.
Nate doesn’t respond, but his smile fades, and he sucks in his bottom lip while he studies me with his eyes. I raise my hand and hold it up with a still wave before turning down my hall to head to my room. It takes me a minute or two to finesse my key from my pocket, and when I finally have it in the lock, I feel my heart actually sting. I just gave up on something because I’m afraid. And it hurts.
Chapter 7
Nate
Everyone crashed in our room last night. One of the hazards of being the room that sneaks in alcohol—everyone sort of stays for the party.
Cass and Ty seem comfortable, cuddled up in the corner of his bed. She’s different for him. Normally, he’d be hot after her sister, who is completely wrapped up in the blanket on my bed, her dress hiked up enough that I’m literally staring at the underwear hugging her ass.
We all did shots last night, but I stopped after one or two. No one noticed; I think that Paige chick thought I was just as lit up as she was. I let her crawl into my bed, and I even entertained the idea of making out with her. But she had this giggling fit over dumb shit she was saying, and it was so damned annoying, it helped me keep my head on straight.
If I ever want to curl up in my bed with Rowe, I can’t entertain myself with her roommate. So I let Paige lay on my chest until her giggling stopped and she passed out. Then I crawled over her and slipped out of the door to the study lounge and slept on that miserable-ass sofa for a few hours.
I need my shoes. That’s the only reason I’m back in this room right now. And I think I can get to them. I just hope Paige doesn’t wake up while I’m in here. I can barely stand her on two shots of tequila. I think sober me would want to run from this room screaming.
“Pssssst.” Ty’s head is lifted from his pillow, and he’s motioning for me to come closer.
“Hey dude. I have workouts. Just gonna grab my shoes and take off. I’ll be back around noon. Wanna grab lunch at Sally’s?” I try to keep my voice in a low whisper so I don’t wake up Cass.
“Yeah, I’m f**king hungry, yo,” he says, rubbing his stomach.
“You were pretty much on the liquid diet last night,” I say, patting him once on the shoulder while I sit on the edge of his bed and slip my foot in my shoe. “All right, I’ll see you later. Maybe…let’s meet there? I don’t want to have to run into…”