Page 37

ON DECK

JAXON

An offensive player due up after the current batter.

A fter leaving Inez, I hit the batting cages and try to take my anger out on the ball.

Doesn’t work.

I’m in a fucking mood, as you can imagine.

I’m irritable as fuck and almost intolerable, even to myself.

And though it’s not unheard of for baseball players to show up at college parties, I usually stay away from them during the season—especially when I’m in a mood, because it never ends well.

I’ve gotten in a few fights, but we’re not gonna talk about that right now.

So why am I at a party? I have no clue, but it’s a fucking terrible idea.

I blame Jameson, because he convinces me we should go with Kingston and Ollie. Unity, he says, is what we need this year if we’re gonna make it to the postseason.

I agree because, one, that mood I told you about has me wanting a drink, and two, he’s right.

We need unity this year. So here I fucking am, trying to be with the team when my mind is on everything but baseball.

My thoughts keep circling back to that article, to Camdyn’s face during that game, to the way Inez looked at me like I’d led her on—which, let’s be honest, I kind of did.

Once we’re at the party, most guys go off in search of girls.

I hang with Jameson in the corner next to the keg, though I’m not drinking from it.

There’s about two ounces of whiskey in my red cup—that’s my limit.

I’m not twenty-one, you know that by now.

So for the sake of my playing time, let’s go ahead and keep this a secret between us.

I don’t expect to see Camdyn there with Brynn and Callie and half their team. I smile when I see her, even though I try not to. Something in my chest loosens, like my body knows she’s near before my brain catches up.

“Yo,” King elbows me. “I didn’t know Camdyn had some hood in her.”

I glance where King points and see Camdyn dancing with her teammates, twerking against their centerfielder. Believe me, Camdyn can shake her ass.

Everyone around Camdyn is watching, and I admit, it’s hot as fuck the way her ass cheeks bounce in those tight leggings, detailing every line of muscle in her legs.

The black fabric clings to her curves like it was painted on, and my mouth goes dry watching her move.

I’m definitely hard thinking about how good it’s gonna feel when she’s bouncing that big ass on my dick later.

“Hey,” Inez says, appearing next to me like she materialized out of thin air.

I swear to God, this girl is everywhere lately.

She’s still wearing that ridiculous fit from earlier—paint-splattered jeans, wrinkled white tee, paired with some artsy cardigan that looks like it came from her grandma’s closet.

The whole ensemble makes her look like a confused college kid stuck between a paintbrush and a book, or both.

Around us, girls are wearing crop tops and tight dresses, but Inez is out here looking like she stumbled out of an art therapy session.

Her thick-rimmed glasses keep sliding down her nose, and that oversized cardigan hangs off one shoulder like she’s trying too hard to look carelessly creative.

She couldn’t look more out of place at this party if she tried.

And she definitely couldn’t look more different from Camdyn, who commands attention in anything. Even leggings and a T-shirt.

Inez looks at me curiously, twisting a strand of her dark hair around her finger. “Why’d you break up?”

The question hits me like a bucket of ice water.

I don’t want to answer; she’s still trying to insert herself into my life like she belongs there.

The truth is messy and complicated and not something I want to get into with Inez.

I sigh to avoid the question, my eyes still on Camdyn, watching some random dude try to dance with her while she pretends not to notice me staring.

The party’s getting more crowded, bodies pressing in, and I can feel the sweat starting to bead on my neck under my hoodie.

Inez hasn’t asked anything about my dating life before we started talking. Now, her curiosity has me wondering how much she already knows and hasn’t let on.

“We just did.” My eyes drift back to Camdyn and the guy next to her, who’s now got his phone out—definitely asking for her number. Fuck.

“Oh.” Inez’s voice is small, almost lost in the bass-heavy music.

I glance at Inez and finish my drink. I might break my one drink rule. Fuck it, I need something else if I’m gonna watch this shit show unfold. “Why?” I can't keep my mind off Camdyn. I have to get her away from that dude before she decides to leave with him.

Some drunk girl stumbles between us, spilling beer on Inez’s sweater. She doesn’t even seem to notice, too focused on studying my face like she’s trying to decode something. “I noticed you pay a lot of attention to her when she’s in a room.”

I don’t stare at her (okay, maybe I do), but I’m always aware of her presence—and the guys watching her every move like they actually have a chance. But I don’t stare.

I blow off her assessment even though it’s probably pretty fucking accurate. “I don't.” I do stare at Camdyn a little more than I should, but I hadn’t realized it until Inez pointed it out.

Across the room, Camdyn laughs at something Frat Boy says, and my stomach turns.

Inez does that thing girls do when they know you’re lying—flat lip frown, rolling their eyes. “Okay, um, yeah.” She fidgets with her glasses again, that nervous habit that used to seem endearing but now just reminds me how wrong this is.

Camdyn has my attention more than I’d like, but I’m not about to admit that.

Especially not to Inez. I push my hood off, getting ready to tell her I’m leaving.

The sticky air in here isn’t helping—some genius cranked the heat with half the campus crammed into this house.

I don’t have a plan, but I need Cam away from that dude and I can’t do that standing next to Inez.

I watch as Frat Boy puts his hand on Camdyn’s waist. The red Solo cup in his other hand tips dangerously as he leans in closer to her.

Then Inez does something that makes everything worse.

She turns to face me and reaches for my hat, her fingers grazing my forehead.

“I’ve never seen you without your hat on.

” And then she takes it, smiling, as if it’s funny to her, as if we’re still in that place where she can do shit like this.

The smell of her vanilla perfume mixed with whatever’s in her cup makes my stomach turn.

I grab it from her and put it back on my head, backwards. “Don’t.” My voice comes out harder than I meant, but fuck it.

Now I’m getting the “what the fuck?” face and I’m almost certain I’ve pissed her off. The party noise fades to a dull roar in my ears as I watch her expression shift from playful to hurt. Someone bumps into her from behind, making her stumble closer to me. “Don’t what?”

“Take my hat.” Around us, people are dancing, drinking, living their best college lives. Some dude’s trying to do a keg stand in the corner while his friends chant, and the bass is making the floor vibrate. But all I can think about is a girl in a parking lot who stole my hat.

“What?” Inez adjusts her glasses and stares at me. I’ve offended her. Her cheeks are pink, either from embarrassment or the insane fucking humidity of too many bodies packed into this house. “Why?”

“I don't like it when people take my hat,” I mumble. The bass is still thumping but all I can hear is my heart pounding. Over Inez’s shoulder, I see Frat Boy whisper something in Camdyn’s ear that makes her laugh. My fingers curl into fists at my sides.

I don’t tell her the real reason. There’s a memory I can’t shake when it comes to this hat. The last girl I let take my hat from me is talking to someone else at the moment and I’d give anything to stop it. I think about that night. Six years ago, when everything was simpler.

My heart pounded the moment I saw her in the parking lot. I smiled as I walked over. “It’s awfully dark for a pretty girl like you to be alone.”

“I’m not alone.” She laughed, sitting on the edge of her tailgate, blowing out an easy breath. The sun was setting behind her, backlighting her blonde hair to almost a golden hue, like she had an aura or some shit.

“I suppose you’re not.” I stepped closer and leaned in. “Miss me?”

“Mmm. Maybe?” She scooted to the edge and wrapped her legs around my waist. “I think you missed me though.”

“Don’t get too excited.” I laughed and adjusted myself. “That’s my cup.”

“Nah.” She shook her head, the cutest smile ghosting her lips, her eyes dropping to where I adjusted. “I think you missed me.”

“Maybe I did. You’ll have to find out.” I slid her forward on the tailgate so she was lined up with me. It wasn’t comfortable but I had a hard-on already and it was digging into the cup, uncomfortably so.

For a second, she stiffened, her hands on my chest. She eased back an inch before my lips touched hers. “What if someone sees us?”

“There’s nobody here.”

She turned my head toward the boys by Aldon’s truck. “What about them?”

“They don’t care.”

She laughed lightly. “Mhm. They might.”

“Mmm.” I leaned in and pressed my lips to hers. They were warm and inviting and sent a wave of need through me instantly. “I don’t care. I want you, baby.”

“See?” She giggled and buried her face into my neck. “You definitely missed me.”

“I always miss you.” I carried to the truck, setting her down on the passenger side seat. Pulling off her jersey, I kissed along the curve of her breasts and then lower, sucking her right nipple. “Do you wanna?”

“Do I wanna what?”

“You know….” I didn’t want to say it out loud. Maybe I was embarrassed. We’d done everything but sex over the last two years. We kept talking about it, but up until now, we weren’t ready. Drawing in an unsteady breath, I worked up the courage to say it. “Do it.”