“You play sports?” I ask, my eyes still locked on her leg.

“A little. I used to, I mean. I was good at tennis,” she says, finally relaxing her upper body. “Ty says you play baseball?”

I love that she has no idea who I am. Not that I’m that big a deal, but I did turn down a lot of Division 1 schools to come here. The chick at the party last night sure knew who I was. Or, at least, she knew that I was an athlete at the school. She was sloppy drunk and kept telling me how she just wants to hook up with a jock this week.

Some guys love that shit. Easy. Ty kind of likes it, at least in the moment. But usually he’s pissed at himself that next day when he has to face a girl he really has no interest in. I’d rather wait around until I find someone worth it, someone I’d like to see in the morning, not just the night.

“Yeah, I’m the catcher.” I sort of wait to see how she reacts, and when she doesn’t, I keep going, suddenly feeling like I have to work a little to impress her. “So, I pretty much play every game. I’m stepping in for a senior this year, and it’s kind of awkward, because I think they’ll probably play me more than him.”

“Are you good?” Her bluntness is adorable, if not intimidating.

“Huh. Well, I was good enough for them to ask me to come here. I guess I hope I’m good enough for them to want me to stay.” All I can do is smile at her, the way she’s crinkling her nose while she thinks about what she needs to know about me next. Anything…I want this girl to ask me anything.

We’re walking to the front lobby now, so I nod to my coach that I’m heading out, and he just waves me off. I’m about to place my hand on her back to lead her outside—both because I want her to know what direction to go and because I want to feel her shoulder blades under my fingers. But I notice she pauses when we get to the door; I can see her breathing pick up, so I pull my hand away before it grazes her. She’s nervous.

“Did anyone else ask you?”

“Huh?” Her eyes are staring at the metal grate that divides the outside from the inside, so I can’t even get a clue from her expression as to what she means.

“Baseball. Did anyone else ask you to play?”

“Oh.” For a second I thought she was asking me about other girls, and other girls is the last thing I want to talk about in front of Rowe. I spent my summer forgetting all about Sadie with my brother’s help, and let’s just say that’s how I know I’m not meant for one-night stands and good-enoughs. For the last three months, I’ve felt like a major ass**le, which is exactly why I left the party last night. Fate rewarded me by running me into Rowe.

“Yeah, I had a few other offers.”

“How many?”

She still hasn’t brought her eyes back to me, but we’re walking again, so at least she’s not trying to run away anymore. “I don’t know. Ten or twelve.”

I know exactly how many schools asked me to play—sixteen. And there was also an offer to get into the Indians organization. But I didn’t want to trade a free ride through business school with my brother for a year or two in some shit-splat town making a teacher’s salary.

“So, you must be pretty good, huh?”

“I’m all right.”

It takes us about fifteen minutes to get into town, and we make small talk the entire way. I don’t have any classes with her—probably because she’s still figuring out what she wants to do. I can tell she’s stressed about the topic, so I don’t grill her on it for long. She talks about her parents a lot, which for some reason makes me like her even more. Ty and I have a great relationship with our mom and dad, and it’s a turnoff when a girl wants to bag on her mom over stupid petty things.

When we walk into Sally’s, I wince. The guy behind the bar recognizes me, and he’s going to blow my cover. “Nate! Hey man, how’s it hangin’!”

“Hey, Cal. Things are good. Good to see ya.” I raise my shoulders and hold up my hands when Rowe snaps her gaze to me. Her brow is lowered, and I can tell she’s suspicious.

“So, whatcha having, the usual?”

Goddamn. Of all things that man could have said. My brother and I are probably keeping him in business, and I’m pretty sure I ate every meal here for the two weeks I came for summer ball. I thought it was safe, because Cal doesn’t work days. Though, it seems I have that wrong now.

“I’m not alone, Cal, so maybe give us a few minutes to look over the menu,” I say, sliding into the booth near the jukebox. I’m prepared for Rowe to look like she wants to kill me; I hold my breath when I turn to look at her. When I see the smirk on her face, I’m ecstatic.