My Second Chance – Secret Baby Read Online Natasha L. Black

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Sports Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 60219 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 301(@200wpm)___ 241(@250wpm)___ 201(@300wpm)
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“So, what? A martini?” Tessa asked.

“What about a beer?” I asked.

Tessa and Kat looked at each other and then to me.

“You are out for your freaking twenty-first birthday, and you want a beer?” Kat asked incredulously.

I shrugged. “You pick then.”

“Look, if she wants a beer, get her a beer. But also get her a Liquid Cocaine. Because tonight should be full of bad decisions,” Tessa said.

Kat laughed and stood, heading toward the bar. I didn’t know what a Liquid Cocaine was, but I wasn’t going to ask because it sounded awful and was sure to mess up. I assumed the entire purpose of tonight was to mess me up so I just went along with it.

It turned out to be surprisingly not terrible. The effect was like having a shot of espresso that also made me feel really warm and tingly inside and had the dual effect of loosening me up. Enough so that I made my way to the DJ table and perused the book of songs he had available. Currently, an old man was on the stage, singing a tune that seemed to hit all the country music clichés, including the wife leaving and the truck being stolen.

I picked a song and wrote it down on the slip of paper, passing it over to the DJ, who nodded in acknowledgement. I was pretty sure he was wearing earplugs under the giant headphones that covered his entire ears. It was the only way being that close to the shrieking would be tenable, other than just simply being deaf.

There was a line of slips of paper already there, but I watched as the DJ pulled mine to the front. It wasn’t that much of a surprise. College had been good to me in more ways than one. For one thing, I did let go of some of my shyness as I found my voice in the theater. I loved to sing and had found out I was pretty damn good at musicals. I had suspected it for a while, but there was a big difference between singing Evita in the shower and doing it in front of a live crowd.

Still, I wasn’t the world’s most outgoing person, even with all the changes. I blushed as I ran back to the table, hoping I would get a chance to put a bit more of whatever new drink of liquid courage Tessa and Kat had replaced my old one with in me before my name got called. I was halfway through downing a drink that was ostensibly tea-based, but neither resembled sweet tea nor had anything recognizable as being from Long Island, when Tessa pointed behind me toward the door.

I looked around, and my eyes widened, my heart began thumping in my chest, and my breath hitched. Why now? Of all days?

“Aren’t those guys from back in high school?” Tessa asked.

“I mean, yeah, that’s likely. Small town,” I said, quickly turning around and sitting with my back to them.

“Holy shit,” Kat said. “That’s Graham Miller!”

I didn’t need to turn around and look. I’d seen him, too. It was why my back was turned as it was.

“My God, time did that boy some favors. Not that he needed them,” Tessa said.

“You know he’s famous, right?” Kat asked. “He got drafted his first year in college and joined the majors right after that. He plays for some major league team now.”

“The Expos,” I said. “Montreal.”

The table went silent as my two friends stared at me over their drinks.

“What?”

“How did you know that?” Tessa said. “I didn’t even have time to Google it.”

“I just happened to hear his name one day on the news. Whatever,” I said.

That wasn’t entirely true. Back in high school, our encounter had left me so flustered that I ended up avoiding him entirely afterward, and we only ended up speaking a handful of words to each other before he graduated. I hadn’t seen him since.

At least, not in person. The high school crush I had nursed and my desire to reach for any crumb I could of him always lingered. I had seen his games on television when no one else was around. I even subscribed to the baseball streaming service and occasionally put the games on in the background while I did laundry or studied. It felt a little pathetic, but I tried to console myself by convincing myself I was a baseball fan, and it was good to support the hometown boy.

Of course, I couldn’t pinpoint any other time I had ever watched a game that didn’t involve Graham Miller. Ever. So the lies were building up.

I put my shame away and turned back, looking over my shoulder again, and my eyes went right to him. He was as handsome as he had ever been, and though I had the benefit of having seen him on TV a bit, he was even more impressive in person. The large athletic frame and boyish smile was still there, but all of it was just… more. There was more of all of it.


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