Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 91497 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91497 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
The two of them are always like that, oil and water.
“Why do you do that?” I ask him with a chiding tone.
He smiles and his dimples pop. “Do what?”
Dustin McDowell—Pinstripes first baseman and MLB bad boy—is extremely attractive, and he never fails to wield his good looks anytime it suits him. Now, for instance, he thinks my knees will buckle and I’ll turn to putty at his feet, but Dustin doesn’t affect me. He never has.
“You could try being nice to her for once.”
He frowns like the idea doesn’t sit right with him. Then he slides a hand through his brown hair. It’s in need of a trim, and I’d tell him that if he were being nicer to Daphne.
“It’s a two-way street.”
I snort at his childish remark and move to the couch, taking the seat next to Nick.
Dustin steals the seat next to Daphne, but before he can say anything to her, she turns her back to him and gifts her full attention to Nick. “So, how’d it go down in Florida?”
It’s a question that was on my mind too.
I feel bad I didn’t keep track of their spring training this year. I’m usually the Pinstripes’ number one fan, but my plate has been overloaded with work for the last month. One of our nurses has been out on maternity leave. Management was going to bring in a travel nurse, but her contract fell through, and well…I volunteered to pick up the slack. Lesson learned. I worked at the hospital nearly every day in March, and when I wasn’t at work, I was helping take care of my niece, Harper. My brother’s fiancée, Chloe, has become a huge help with her, but I still try to spend as much time with my niece as possible, especially when Luke is away with the team. Yesterday, he called me to check in and sounded so excited to be reunited with his family. I can only imagine how sweet that reunion was.
“Florida was good. Beach. Sun. Ladies.” Nick grins. “Can’t beat it. And Navarro was as insane as everyone promised he would be.” He shakes his head like he can’t fully believe it himself. “The guy’s unstoppable. He broke the all-time record for number of home runs in a preseason game.”
Daphne whistles, impressed. “I’m glad he’s on our team.”
I frown, trying to come up with the name in my head. I know the 26-man roster like the back of my hand and there’s no Navarro on it. Did the Pinstripes take on a new player? God, I’m behind. I usually catch every game, or I at least watch the game highlights afterward. The guys would give me a hard time if they knew how little I’ve been keeping track lately.
Still, I’m curious. The name is vaguely familiar. “Grant Navarro? From Miami?” I ask.
Dustin laughs. “Yes, Navarro from Miami.” He shakes his head. “You been under a rock?”
I smile sheepishly. “Yeah, actually. Hospital’s been crazy.”
His eyes soften as he takes pity on me. “We got him just before the start of spring training. His rookie contract was up with Miami, and he was about to go to Los Angeles before we scooped him up.”
“Lucky us,” Daphne says with a waggle of her eyebrows.
“Lucky him. Did you hear what we dished out to get him?” Nick puffs out a breath like it was no small sum. Clearly, there were quite a few zeroes involved in Grant’s Pinstripes contract.
“A fuck ton more than we dished out to you, Williams.”
Nick shoots Dustin his middle finger.
After having met their make-out quota for the hour, Sophia and Josh deign to join us. We scoot around on the couches to make more room and Dustin offers Daphne his spot, but she declines, staying right where she is beside Nick.
Dustin looks at me and shrugs as if to say, There. I tried. You happy?
As the night wears on, my dare falls on the back burner. We all sit around catching up, and it feels just like any other night aside from the fancy setting and hand-crafted cocktails. I missed the guys while they were down south. I forgot how much they make me laugh. At one point—at Josh and Dustin’s insistence—Nick lifts his shirt to reveal a new tattoo he apparently got one night down in Miami. “I love mommy” is written obscenely big across his lower back, each letter at least an inch tall. The whole phrase is slightly left of center, so that the I is at his hip and the Y is only slightly past his spine.
“Nick!” we exclaim as our hands fly to our faces.
“NO!”
“WHY?!”
He shrugs and looks over his shoulder, trying to see it for himself. “I wanted a tattoo for my mom. I think it’s cool.”
“You’re supposed to get something discreet,” I tell him, barely able to look at it. I wince. “The dumb little heart with an arrow through it…”