14. Baylor

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

BAYLOR

I had forty-five minutes to kill before I had to meet Casey for dinner.

Not because I was so eager to see him that I got ready too early.

Not because I had been looking forward to this night since our last non-date.

And certainly not because I had no life!

Total bullshit. I got ready too early because I had no life, and I was eager to see him.

Trying to slow my roll, I parked my ass on the couch and opened my new favorite social media account, the one for the University of Oregon, Mapleview. It was the same reporter, the journalism student, Sean, and he had a microphone shoved in a player’s face.

“Peanuts or popcorn?” he asked.

“Peanuts,” the second baseman answered.

He asked again, and the shortstop replied, “Peanuts.”

Austin answered, “I like both peanuts and popcorn. If you mix them together, you get that perfect blend of buttery saltiness.”

And then he asked Casey. I turned up the volume, so I didn’t miss a thing.

“Coach, peanuts or popcorn?”

He smirked. I’d seen that smirk before. It was usually directed at me. “Neither. I prefer Tums .”

Smartass. But good to know. There was one other video I’d missed. This time, it wasn’t right before a game. It seemed the reporter had caught the team after practice as they filed into the locker room, in various stages of removing their equipment and even their T-shirts. They were sweaty and tired, skin flushed and damp. Just as I was about to turn it off—because twenty-something-year-olds weren’t really my thing—Casey popped out of his office in the process of pulling what I guessed was a clean and dry shirt over his head. He seemed surprised to see the camera there. I was able to catch a glimpse of his delicious abs and thick arms before he pulled the shirt down.

God, I missed those muscles. He had a gorgeous body, from what I could remember. This video just proved it wasn’t my imagination. I wished we’d had more than just that one night together before he realized he couldn’t stand me. I would lick his?—

The alarm on my phone interrupted my thoughts, alerting me that it was time to leave.

Even having left on time, I still arrived before he did. I got us a table and ordered a drink to try to appear casual when he showed up, but it was ruined when I saw him walk in. Our eyes locked as he approached our table, and I probably wasn’t doing a good job of hiding my reaction to how fucking hot he looked, wearing fitted dark jeans and a black polo shirt that hinted at every muscle hidden beneath. His biceps were giving those sleeves a workout. The dark clothes were a stark contrast to his blond hair and light eyes, and I thought he looked incredible.

“Just remember, this isn’t a date,” he clarified before taking his seat.

He just had to start out by being an ass, didn’t he? To remind me, in case I forgot for even a minute, that he couldn’t stand me.

“Of course not, because if it were, this would be our third, and I don’t do third dates with anyone.” Fucker. Two could play this game.

Casey stared at me blankly before laughing. “You’re really something, Blue.”

Something? That left a lot to the imagination. Was I something good? Something bad?

“You know what you’re gonna order?” he asked, picking up his menu.

“That depends. Who’s paying tonight?” I had already offered to treat, but I couldn’t help but fuck with him.

Casey didn’t disappoint. He snorted, amused. “I’m only treating if I’m topping.”

I wasn’t expecting that, and apparently, neither was he. His eyes got big and round. “I didn’t mean that we were…that I was?—”

It was my turn to laugh. “Then I guess you owe me.”

“Hell, you got me to pay last time. Seems like you owe me . ”

Was that an offer? Sounded a lot like an offer.

He must’ve realized how it sounded because he stammered, “Baylor, that wasn’t a proposition.”

My lips curled. “Sounded just like one.” He narrowed his eyes, silently insisting it wasn’t before hiding behind his menu. Could he see my shoulders shaking with laughter? “The seafood pasta sounds good.”

“I’m in the mood for meat. I think I’ll have the filet.”

He’d done it again. Unintentional slip of the tongue.

I grinned smugly and when he lowered his menu, he huffed. “Not your meat, Baylor.”

“Sure, Casey.” Taking a sip from my tea, I slurped from the straw louder than I intended to. It set an already touchy Casey off, making him glare at me.

What perverse streak in me found this side of him fun?

“I got you something.” He tossed a wrapped package onto the table.

I was shocked. Casey thought of me? He bought me something? “A gift?”

“No, a… something. Just open it.”

I couldn’t disguise my excitement as I tore open the paper. What could he have possibly gotten me?

I frowned. The blue paperback mocked me. “A rule book?”

It was Casey’s turn to be smug. “I figured it wouldn’t kill you to learn the rules of the game.”

“I assure you, I know the damn rules, Collins.”

He clucked his tongue. “Hard to tell from the calls you make. ”

Carelessly, I tossed the book on the table. “Maybe if you spent less time worrying about my career and more time focusing on yours, you wouldn’t have to rely on my calls to make sure you won the game.”

His face hardened. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you’re too soft on your third baseman. What’s his name? Hagman?”

“Hager,” he corrected, his mouth pinched.

“Yeah, I know he was one of your top picks, but he knew it, and he’s a spoiled ass. You let too much slide with your team. You need to come down harder on them.”

Casey looked mad enough to spit nails. “What the fuck do you know about coaching?”

“Enough to know that you’re not doing it right.”

Fire blazed in his blue eyes. “You know nothing!”

“What I know is that you rely too heavily on Austin to carry the team. You need to make it clear that you expect the rest of them to step up. Bunch of fucking slackers.”

Casey leaned across the table. He was seething. He looked so fucking hot. “One of these days, I’m going to get my hands around your neck and squeeze. Squeeze so fucking hard.”

My cock kicked, and I reached down to adjust it. He caught the action, his eyes tracking my movements, and his nostrils flared.

“That got you hard?” he asked. My grin wasn’t borne of smugness, more like embarrassment. “Your head is so fucking twisted. It scares me. ”

I would love to know what would have happened next, but we were interrupted by our waitress. “Are you ready to order?”

Casey backed down. “He’ll have the seafood pasta and I’ll take the filet, medium rare, with a loaded baked potato.”

“Would you like soup or salad with your pasta?” she asked me.

“He’ll have the salad, with Caesar dressing and no tomatoes.”

My stomach flipped with excitement. Look at him, ordering for me, and nailing it right on the head. Somebody had paid attention during our last non-date.

“I’ll get those right out,” she promised before walking away.

“What?” he asked, clearly annoyed by my grin.

“Nothing.” He wasn’t even aware he’d done it.

“So, let’s change the subject before we throttle each other. Tell me where you grew up.”

First, he ordered for me, and now he wanted to know about my childhood? This was going better than I hoped. “I was born in Burbank, but we moved to San Diego when I started middle school.”

“Then how did you end up in a small town like Mapleview?”

“I went to college in Portland. That’s where I met Marcus. We both played baseball for the University on scholarship.”

“Really?” His eyes brightened with interest, and he sat forward, leaning his arms on the table. “What position did you play?”

“Center Outfield. I wasn’t one of the better players on the team, and it was obvious I wasn’t going any further than college ball. Marcus and I roomed together, and he encouraged me not to give up on my dreams. I just had to find an alternate outlet.”

“Like umpiring.”

“Exactly. I slogged through years of high school baseball while teaching driver’s ed and coaching at a sports complex that had batting cages and private lessons.” I played with the wrapper of my straw, rolling it into tiny balls and piling them in a stack on the tablecloth. “I was pretty miserable, but I just didn’t realize how much until Marcus found Austin. They were so happy together, and it was a huge wake-up call for me. I want what he has, but I knew I’d never find it if I didn’t make changes.”

“So you made changes,” he guessed.

Nodding, I answered, “Packed up and moved to Mapleview.”

“And how’s that going?”

“It’s going.” I flipped one of the paper balls in his direction, narrowly missing his drink. “I guess we’ll see.”

Our waitress returned, sliding our plates in front of us, and I dug into my pasta, wasting no time. I was starved, but after my third bite, I paused when I realized Casey was staring. I looked up, my fork paused halfway to my mouth, at his horrified expression.

“What?” I mumbled around a mouthful of pasta. Did I have sauce on my face? Grabbing my napkin, I wiped my mouth, realizing I did, in fact, have sauce on my face. Probably from slurping my noodles. I couldn’t help it; I always slurped my noodles.

“You have the worst table manners I’ve ever seen.”

Chuckling, I agreed. “My mother says I was raised in a barn.”

“You can’t convince me you’ve ever taken a woman to dinner, and she sat across the table from you and ever wanted a second date.”

“Maybe that’s why they never complained about not getting a callback.” I was teasing him, but it actually made sense.

Casey shook his head. “You’re a fucking mess. I promise I won’t complain if you never call me again either.”

Laughing, I set down my fork. “You wish. Like I would let you off the hook that easily.”

Hell, he was the one who always messaged me! He was lying to himself if he thought he wouldn’t miss me.

“We getting rum raisin after this?” he asked.

Look at him, prolonging our date. Because he didn’t want it to end? “Of course, but you’re buying this time.”