Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 109505 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 438(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109505 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 438(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
I laugh again ...
The thought of him drives me wild, it’ll be embarrassing to have to sit beside him and—
A gasp yanks me from my thoughts, and I turn to find a chick with a messy ball of hair on her head staring at me, her neck stretched so she can peek out of Coach’s office, body still tucked inside.
“Did I say that out loud?”
Grinning, I kick off the wall and step forward, but she doesn’t straighten where she stands and serve me her sassiest of smiles. She doesn’t slide farther into the hall and wait for me to come closer or make her way to me.
She doesn’t do any of those things.
The girl dashes her ass back into the office, leaving me alone in the tunnel.
And I mean, that’s kind of fuckin’ rude.
With a frown, I head over to tell her so, but before I can reach the entrance, the girl’s flying out the door, her chin tucked to her chest.
I put on my best grin and wait for her head to shoot up as she grows closer, for her to peek up at me, flutter her lashes, and apologize for trying to pawn me off, then beg me to let her make it up to me by going down, but she doesn’t do any of those things either.
She walks on by, like nothing.
Doesn’t try and rub up on me.
Doesn’t linger, hoping I’ll grace her with more, be it a quick conversation or impromptu invitation.
The girl doesn’t even look my way and then she’s gone.
My entire body twists with her speedy exit, now facing the direction she disappeared.
Confused, I subconsciously grip the bill of my hat, lift it an inch, all to pull it right back in place.
The fuck just happened here?
CHAPTER 2
Avix Inquirer:
The spring semester’s in full swing, and thanks to our very own Playboy Pitcher, so is the 2021 baseball season. Let’s go, Sharks!
Tobias
“Tobias.”
Staring at the now-closed doors, I lick my lips, tempted to follow the girl out, but Coach Reid calls my name again, so I step into his office.
He drops into his chair, tossing his phone onto the desktop with an exasperated huff. “Sorry about that. I was hoping to talk to her before you got here, but I forget your internal clock is like an old man’s and you show up a half hour early everywhere you go.”
“Yeah.” I frown, subconsciously glancing toward the hall again. “It’s all good, Coach. She, uh, seems like fun.”
When I face forward, I find him frowning in my direction, and my lips pull to one side. “Not my fault you read that wrong. Thinking with the head on my shoulders, swear.”
He scoffs, shaking his head. “Yeah, you better be, and don’t worry, she’ll do what she’s told.”
“You sure? ‘Cause that sounded like a case of coercion and I didn’t catch the submission part.”
He chuckles, scrubbing his hands down his face as he leans forward. “Trust me, son. It’s handled, and since she took off, go on and head back to whatever it is I’m sure you had planned.”
“Why did she take off?”
His eyes snap to mine. “What?”
“Coach, she legit ran the fuck out. Didn’t say a word to me.”
Coach Reid looks to the side as he grabs his keys from the drawer. “What she lacks in social skills, the girl makes up for in brains. That’s all you need to know.”
A frown creeps over my face. “All right.”
“All right,” he echoes. “Now go, but no calling me to clean up any messes,” the man jokes.
“Yeah, you look like you could use a couple days of sleep.”
“I’ll sleep in July when the season’s over.”
“And I’m on my way to spring training.”
“Exactly, son.” He laughs, pushing to his feet and leading me out the door. “Go have your fun. I’ll send you what you need to know.”
Nodding, I spin on my feet, saluting him on my way out. “Thanks, Coach. See you tomorrow.”
I head out, and with my head still stuck in no-man’s-land, a mythical place where a lowly bun-sporting chick blows me off, I make my way home to join my teammates for some chill time.
Inside, I find my closest friend and roommate Echo, leaning against the wall, chatting up a couple ball babes. Our third and first basemen, Xavier and Neo, brothers in every way that counts, take up most of the space on the couch, a head of bleach-blonde hair I recognize sitting between them.
Our place is nice, low key, and we work hard to keep it that way.
It’s a three-bedroom bachelor pad directly across from campus, courtesy of Coach Reid, who happens to be the athletic director here at AU, and the man who gave my life purpose when I had none.
It’s a real sweet setup with all-expenses paid and a jacuzzi out back. He hooked me up with the spot when I accidentally got myself in a sticky situation that was against frat house rules—who knew the handbook clearly stated, in big ass bold letters, that bikini-Jell-O wrestling wasn’t allowed on campus?