The Problem with Players Read Online Brittainy C. Cherry

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Sports Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 122219 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 611(@200wpm)___ 489(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
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“See, this is how she said you’d react.”

“Oh, is that so?”

“Yeah, it is. And I know why you’re reacting this way.”

“Do tell.”

“Because you’re hard to love!” he blurted out. “You make it so damn impossible to even have heart-to-heart moments, and here I was, stupidly waiting years for the day that you’d open up to me. I love you, Avery. I do. But you don’t make it easy. Which is why it’s easier for me to go now.”

Hard to love.

Those last few pieces of my fragile heart?

Eviscerated.

I shut my eyes.

I took a deep inhalation.

Then I released it slowly.

“Please go,” I requested as I opened my eyes.

“What…” He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “What am I supposed to tell everyone? People are waiting for us in the church. Maybe we can go tell them together.”

“No way in hell am I going to do that.”

“Avery…”

“Tell them exactly what you told me.” I sighed, grabbing my purse and cell phone. I slipped out of my heels and put on my blue Chucks. “Tell them that you left me. Tell them that you got a new job with your ex-girlfriend. Or tell them a complete lie. I don’t care, Wesley. Just…” I tried to hold back the tears brewing in the back of my eyes. “Leave me alone.”

I left the room and went through the back of the church, avoiding making eye contact with anyone. The last thing I wanted to do was talk to anyone. The last thing I wanted to do was see people look at me with pity in their eyes. I hated pity. There is no worse feeling in the world than people feeling bad for you.

I knew I’d have to face the looks of others for a long time. I knew I’d be the gossip of Honey Creek for a good second. But before I could focus on that, I had to somehow find the courage to keep breathing.

13

NATHAN

Honey Creek had a runaway bride on their hands, and the whole town was in a tizzy about it.

Avery didn’t marry Wesley.

She didn’t get married.

On one hand, I felt a sense of pleasure about that fact because Wesley wasn’t good enough for her. I was happy she didn’t tie herself to him for the rest of her life.

On the other hand, he broke her heart.

I knew Avery was heartbroken, even if she didn’t show it. She had such a hard exterior, but I knew deep inside she was the most gentle, emotional person. I knew she felt things a lot deeper than others. So I hated that she was somewhere out there, pretending she was fine when she was far from okay.

Luckily for me, I knew Avery Kingsley.

I might’ve known her better than she knew herself.

So while the whole town searched to find where Avery had escaped, I knew exactly where I could find her.

As I strolled over to the batting cage, there she was, holding a wooden bat tightly in her grip. She wore a beautiful wedding dress along with a backward baseball cap. The train of the dress was covered in dust and dirt from the baseball field.

As the ball flung from the machine, Avery swung and knocked it out of the damn park. I’d never seen a person swing with so much power, and I worked in the Major Leagues. I was almost shocked that the bat didn’t snap in half.

I leaned against the bleachers for a second, watching her as she knocked pitch after pitch toward outer space.

It wasn’t until the machine was out of balls that I spoke.

“You get it out of your system, Coach? Or do you want me to reload it for you?”

Avery turned to face me. Her chest rose and fell from her weighted breaths as she tilted her head toward me. At first, she seemed confused by my presence, but then her face hardened again. She turned away from me and nodded. “Reload.”

I flicked my thumb against my nose and did as she requested.

I reloaded the machine three times before I became concerned with how out of breath Avery had become.

“Reload,” she requested once more.

“I think that’s enough, Coach.”

“No, it’s not. Reload.”

“Avery—”

“Fine.” She dropped the bat. “I’ll do it myself. I didn’t need you to do it for me at all anyway. I don’t need anyone to do anything for me.” She huffed and puffed as she stormed over to the machine. As she reloaded it, I walked over and placed my hand over hers.

“Ave…come on.”

“What?”

“You’re burned out. How about you get some water and⁠—”

“Stop it,” she ordered, pointing a stern finger my way. “Don’t you dare feel bad for me. I see it in your stupid brown eyes. I don’t need you to feel bad for me, Nathaniel Pierce. I don’t need your pity. Lord knows I’m going to get it from everyone else in town. You’re the last person I need to look at me with those sad damn eyes.”


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