Page 64

The first pitch is a ball. The second he gets a hold of. Sure enough, Shane hits a fast grounder up third base between Josh and Grayson.
Josh steps aside and Grayson twists around to stop it backhanded, but he doesn’t throw it right away. He tosses it lightly to himself for a minute while Shane rushes to first base. As if it’s the easiest play he’s ever made, Grayson’s head comes up arrogantly, smirking. A few feet before he reaches the base, Grayson throws a rocket right toward the baseline and nails Shane in the helmet. It’s hard. You can literally hear the sound vibrate through the field.
Naturally, Shane stumbles, rocked by the hit but doesn’t fall to the ground like I’d hoped he would. He stops, his hands on his knees.
Grayson has a pitcher’s arm on him. He can throw a baseball over ninety miles an hour, and I certainly wouldn’t want to be hit with one of them.
There’s a small part of me that hopes the hit gives Shanebrain damage. The other part of me wants to pick up the bat sitting next to me and beat the shit out of him in front of everyone.
“My bad,” Grayson mumbles when Sheriff Hicks gives Shane the base for interference. “I’m a little rusty on my aim.”
That’s bullshit, but Hicks lets it go.
Shane staggers again before throwing the helmet off and stepping toward Grayson, only to be stopped by Lance, who is coaching first base.
“Let it go,” Lance urges, pulling on Shane’s arm. He motions for a base runner. “Why don’t you take a seat? I think that one hit you a little too hard.”
I don’t think Lance is stupid. Actually, I know he’s not. He knows if Shane starts something again, Grayson will finish it.
Shane flings his arm away from Lance. “Get off me.” He looks to Grayson again, pointing his finger at him. “Your turn’s comin’, man!”
“I’m right here.” Grayson raises his hands up. “Come show me what you mean.”
“That’s enough!” Hicks yells from his place behind the base.
As Shane reluctantly walks away, a base runner taking his place on first, Grayson turns around.
Our eyes catch and I smile at him, grateful for the small act of retribution he handed out.
Grayson winks.
“Maybe you need to work on your aim,” Josh teases.
Grayson smiles at Josh. “Just a smidge off.”
At the start of the fourth inning, Grayson comes up to bat for the second time. Guess who’s pitching?
Yep. Shane. Grayson’s first time up to bat and Shane walked him. And judging by the look on Shane’s face now, I have a feeling that’s not how this one will go.
I snap my eyes to Grayson. Yep. This,thisis a really bad scenario for Shane because Graysonlovesto hit up the middlewhen a pitcher is being an asshole. He didn’t do it often, but when he did, it always scared me.
Part of me wonders if Shane knows that. I don’t think he does. His sport was football, not baseball.
But then again, maybe he does know. He knew way more about Grayson than I ever suspected.
“Oh, this can’t be good,” Julia notes, shaking her head beside me. So wrapped up in my own thoughts, I forgot she’d sat right beside me.
“He won’t do anything stupid,” Frankie notes.
Kelly snorts. “Yeah, right.”
I’m going with Kelly’s theory because I know the expression Grayson’s wearing.
I can also see the look on Shane’s face, in his eyes, when he turns on the mound. The hate, the discontent he holds within them is noticeable. He’s vile and angry, for reasons even I don’t understand. But still, his focus is clear.
Revenge.
Without warning, his eyes shift to mine. He blinks slowly and then flicks his stare back to Grayson.