15. Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Fifteen

Andrew

Outside of confirming our Saturday drum lesson via text message, I've had zero contact with Lottie. It isn't because I don't want to take up every moment of her time. I do, but I haven't had a single thing to say that warranted reaching out to her as a friend. Maybe a simple message asking how she's doing would have been okay, but I did that just before leading into confirming the lesson. She kept it short and simple, so I didn't push for more.

Fortunately, a few days of rest and icing my shoulder have drastically improved mobility. If I can manage to keep it up, I might be able to pitch in another week or two. Owen informed me that my dramatics about my injury and my failing love life were beginning to annoy him, so I took his suggestion and accepted an invitation out with the guys tonight.

The Salty Dog is a pirate-themed pub that serves burgers and hot dogs, which never made much sense to me but it seems to keep the place open. I suspect the after-game gatherings the Sharks and other local teams provide is what really keeps them in business. I've seen the Charleston Timberwolves football players pack the house when they're playing in Savannah, not to mention the hockey team whose name I refuse to utter. Maybe it's petty, but I can't bring myself to care.

Koa Keaton and his best friend, Spencer Pruitt, stand out front chatting while people move in and out of the pub. Boone Cox, a former Sharks player turned batting coach, leans against the window scrolling on his phone. When I approach, Koa nods my way.

"Hey, thought you might not show," he says.

"Sorry I'm late. Couldn't find a safe place to park my bike." I accept Koa's hand and lean in for a very manly chest bump hug. I'm not a guy who is ashamed to show affection to his male friends, but when I gave Koa a full-on hug once, he almost beheaded me. I've stuck to less intimate ones ever since.

Spencer thumbs over his shoulder. "Asher and Josh are inside holding a table for us, but we better get in and order if we want to eat. There's some kind of engagement party or something happening."

"Cool. I'm starving anyway." I yank the door open and head inside. It's packed, but not only because there's a party. There's also a lot of regulars hanging out and it appears to be a game show night. I can already tell Koa won't want to stay long, but if we can get through dinner without him storming out I'll call it a win. Koa is our hotheaded charmer, the one all the ladies love, but he can't seem to settle on one. He's not a player by any means, but dates are usually singular with him. If there is a follow-up date, it's once in a blue moon.

"It's too crowded in here. Let's eat and go bowling or something," Spencer says.

"Not really something I can do," I say.

"Might as well stick it out here. I don't feel like running all over town," Koa says.

Boone is always up for whatever we decide, so he does little more than grunt and pulls up a stool when we reach the table. Asher and Josh jump into a deep conversation about how buffalo wings got their name while Koa scans the room. Spencer is more interested in the menu than the potentially single women in the pub.

Out of the blue, Spencer drops the menu and says, "Anyone else feel like teaching Martinez a lesson in humility?" Eyebrows raise, so he elaborates. "Rossi has been pitching since Martinez was in diapers. His bragging about pitching in the next game is getting old."

At this point, I can do one of two things. I can whine about how my career is almost over and get the guys worked up about Martinez taking my spot, or I can be professional. Long after I retire, the guys at the table will still be playing. They'll have to depend on each other, Marco Martinez included.

"We were all annoying rookies. He'll find his place and level out," I say.

Boone's brows knit together and he grunts. "You might be right, but the way he runs his mouth is gonna get him repeatedly hit in the face before he levels out. This ain't your usual rookie stupidity. He's got an attitude problem that can't be solved by anything less than—"

"A long day plowing fields. Yeah, we know, farm boy," Koa says.

Boone lifts his arms in a wide shrug. "I'm not wrong. There's something humbling about the Georgia sun beating down on your neck while you cross a hundred acre field turning up peanuts. No one but you and God working the earth."

"Your childhood sucked," Koa teases.

"Say what you want about my childhood, but ain't no one sittin' around a table at a pub talkin' about my poor attitude and spirit of ungratefulness."

Boone's not wrong. If there is a perfect gentleman among us, it's him. However, Boone's manners and childhood are not the topic that's got me rumbling deep in the pit of my stomach. Martinez has the ability, that's for sure, but he's gonna squash it with that mouth. The Sharks are my family, and one bad apple spoiling it for everyone isn't my idea of a team player.

"There's not much I can do about it," I admit. "I've tried working with him, but all I get are smart remarks and jokes about my age. Just pray that my shoulder heals and I can finish the season."

"What good does that do us? He's not getting traded," Josh says. "Kid's a thorn in everyone's side but he's a great pitcher. There's no chance the Dawson brothers will let the coach trade him, not with the money they have invested in making this team the best."

"Listen," Asher chimes in. "Being a good player is only part of it. If he keeps rocking the boat like he does, he'll get traded. There's no player good enough to cause that much trouble with the team, and even the Dawsons know that. Remember when Johannsen got his contract shredded for his behavior off the field?"

Ivan Johannsen was a great hitter, scored a home run almost every time at bat, but his mouth and off field antics—primarily his repeated brushes with the law—got him traded from the Sharks. He went to Los Angeles and lasted for all of a month before they dissolved his contract for the same behavior.

"Martinez is a far cry from Johannsen, but your point does stand," Koa admits.

The waitress takes our orders and brings us water while we chat a bit more about our team dynamics, Koa's most recent date, and exactly how peanuts are harvested in the hundred degree Georgia heat. Everything goes along as usual until I hear an unmistakable laugh. My head snaps up from my dinner like it's a rubber band and that laugh springs it into action.

The women attending the engagement party were merely a buzz in the background until that laugh, and now, they have all of my attention.

"What's up?" Koa asks as his gaze follows mine. "See someone who catches your interest?"

"For sure," I admit. "That beautiful woman across the room is Charlotte Clarke."

"The woman you went on a few dates with?" Thank goodness Koa doesn't elaborate, but all the men pivot and twist in their chairs to get a glimpse of the redhaired bombshell laughing with her friends.

"Which one? And when did you start dating again?" Asher asks.

"Redhead. And just recently. Didn't work out though. Turns out her ex was a hockey player, he cheated on her, and ruined it for the rest of us. She's not interested in athletes."

Boone raises his eyebrows and lets out a low, quiet whistle. "Not a good one to lose. A girl who laughs like that and doesn't care who's watching is a good one."

Don't I know it. I can't stop staring at her. Whatever is in my burger is dribbling down my wrist while I hold it a few inches from my mouth, but I can't bring myself to address that problem, not with her so completely and utterly exposed. She laughs like nothing can hurt her, and maybe it can't since she's ruled out any possibility of getting her heart broken again. But dang, do I want to be the reason she laughs like that.

As if her gut tells her someone is talking about her, her gaze shifts across the room and makes direct contact with mine. Her eyes widen a bit and an easy smile crinkles her eyes. She gives me a little wave.

"That's an invite. Go talk to her." Koa nudges me enough to break my stare.

"She's at a party. I don't want to bother her." I lay my burger on the plate and grab a few napkins to sop up the mess dribbling down my hands. Do I want to talk to Lottie? Of course. Any thoughts otherwise are ridiculous, but I highly doubt she wants to be bothered while she's having fun with her friends.

"I don't think you'd be bothering her," Boone says.

"It's an engagement party. Why would you think she'd want me to barge in?" I narrow my eyes at him.

"Because she's coming over with a big ol' smile on her face."

"What?" I jerk my head in her direction again and find her halfway to our table. "What do I do?"

Koa chuckles and hands me another napkin. "First wipe the mustard off of your face."

I swipe my mouth and drop the napkin just in time.

"Now act like you've met a woman before. For crying out loud, Rossi," Asher says, hushed enough Lottie doesn't hear.

"Hi," Lottie says and gives the table a preview of that megawatt smile that stole my breath the night of our first date. "I'm Lottie, a friend of Andrew's."

Ouch, but okay. Fair enough. We are just friends.

Boone stands and offers his chair, which makes me feel like a complete idiot. I should have done that first, but I'm still in shock over this woman. How can she be more beautiful today than she was only a week ago?

She waves off the gesture. "Oh, no thank you. I just wanted to say hi. I need to get back to the party soon."

Boone nods and says, "Yes, ma'am. I'm Boone Cox. Pleasure to meet you." When he offers his hand and kisses the back of hers, I have to fight a little rage donkey inside of me that says I should stake my claim. I can't. She's not mine, but I want to hit my friend anyway.

Asher leans over Spencer and offers his hand. "I'm Asher Smith, and this is Spencer Pruitt." Spencer nods.

Koa elbows me and whispers, "Say something," under his breath.

"Uh, sorry," I mumble. "This is my friend Koa Keaton, and Josh Callan. All from the Sharks."

"It's nice to meet everyone. Do you come here often? It's my first time here, but I could get used to it. Seems fun." Lottie says and focuses her gaze on me. I wasn't expecting to see her until tomorrow, and all I can do is stare at her.

"Yes," Koa says and nudges me again. "It's a regular place for us."

"Ah, okay. I usually spend my time at Delmonico's with my friends but I'm at an engagement party tonight for a friend from work." She motions over her shoulder while trying to keep up with small talk. She's putting herself out there, talking to a bunch of baseball players…for me.

For me.

She doesn't seem uncomfortable at first look, but now that I look closer, I see her lower lip trembles slightly and she bites it to keep it from showing. Her eyes, once filled with laughter, have a slight deer in the headlights wideness to them now. But she's doing it. She's put herself out there, even if it is only a friendly gesture, and has made an effort to get to know my other friends.

And I can't help wanting her even more.

I stand and offer my arm. "Can I get you a drink?"

Her whole body relaxes and she links her arm with mine. "Sure, I'd like that."

Koa smirks and nods toward me. I know what he's saying. She definitely declined sitting with us for reasons that had nothing to do with getting back to her party, and everything with getting me away from them. I lead her to the bar and pull out a stool for her before waving down the bartender.

"What can I get you?" he asks.

"I'll have a cherry cola, thanks," Lottie says.

"Make that two." I drop a ten dollar bill on the bar and settle in beside her while the bartender strains cherries into two cups.

"I like that they make the drinks the old fashioned way. It's so odd that they serve this kind of food in a pirate-themed pub." Lottie grabs a napkin and sets it in front of her. I like that she's more relaxed with just me, and I don't miss how she leans toward me when we talk.

I hate how easy this could be if not for that one little thing holding us back.

"It's not usually this busy on a Friday night but we like it." I position myself to be as open to her as possible and she turns in her chair to do the same. Her knees brush against mine but she doesn't pull away. She's close enough for me to get a good whiff of that rose scented perfume that mingles with the faint citrus scent of her shampoo. When she brushes her hair over her shoulder, I spy a few of those freckles that beg to be kissed.

"Actually, I'm ready to head out. I do like it, but it's getting a bit loud for me. My friend, Destiny, is getting married. Obviously, I guess, but anyway, we work together. She's taught in the classroom next door to mine for a couple of years now."

I scratch the scruff on my chin and grimace. "Yeah, I'm not fond of the noise either, but the guys wanted me to join them. Gotta go out for our friends sometimes, right?"

"Mmm, I guess so. I'd almost always rather be in my most comfortable clothes, snuggled up with Ginger, watching a movie in the dark from the comfort of my own sofa. Pizza is optional, ice cream is not."

I chuckle and slide a half inch closer. She doesn't retreat. "What's your favorite flavor?"

"Chocolate. You?"

I offer a reluctant shrug. "I'm a vanilla, I guess. But only because you can pair it with anything. I like to put chocolate covered espresso beans on it."

"If you gave me espresso of any kind, you'd never catch me. I love coffee, but one cup is all I can take before I get a little too hyper." Lottie scoots close enough that I need to either move or let her in my bubble to make space. Zero chance I'm moving aside, so I put one foot on the rung of the barstool and the other on the floor, making a little space between my knees for her to tuck hers into. She does so with all the natural ease of a seasoned girlfriend…which she is not. I have to remind myself of that while I fall into her beautiful eyes.

"I might have to test that theory tomorrow. After all, I am Italian. I can make a mean cup of espresso."

When she laughs, she tosses her hair back again. If she knew how much I want to nibble on that freckle pattern, she'd probably stop exposing her neck to me. "I probably could have used some when we were chasing Goblin and Ginger all over the neighborhood."

"I'll put it on ice cream for you, but it's gotta be vanilla. You'll thank me, I promise."

"Espresso over vanilla ice cream? I could be persuaded, honestly. Anything else you want to make for me?" She leans in and puts her hand on my forearm. This does not say she wants to be friends. It doesn't say she wants to slow down, either. Queue a massive confidence boost paired with the masculine urge to test the waters. Her thumb brushes over my arm a little, too.

What does that say? It says Andrew Rossi is very confused. But I'm gonna go with it because I'm also kind of an idiot and a glutton for punishment. I take a huge chance and raise my hand to brush my thumb over her chin.

"I'll make you anything you want. Name it, and it's yours." It comes out deeper and huskier than I intend, but it gets the point across. She knows this isn't a friendly gesture, and the ball is officially in her court. We're in what one could only describe as a half-embrace. I can't tell if this is a kiss me position or not, so I don't dare, but it takes all of my strength not to drag her out of this pub and into a dark alley to kiss her into next week.

"Hmm, what other Italian dishes are your specialty?"

I can't help but snicker. "I spent every summer at my Nonnie's house in Tuscany before she moved here. I'm fluent in all things comfort food, so you pick and I'll make it for you."

"Can you teach me to make pasta?" Childlike excitement sparkles in her eyes.

"Tell you what. Come by my place an hour earlier tomorrow, and I'll teach you before the drum lesson, then we can have an early dinner before I head to the game."

Shadows pass over her features and a slight frown dips her lips. I hate that remembering my job does that to her, but if we're flirting then she can't forget that's what I do. She has to choose me and my career.

"I thought you were injured?"

"Still gotta go support the team. I'll be on the bench all night but I gotta be there."

"So, how long can I steal from you tomorrow before you have to do that?"

I'm not expecting this question, so I don't know how to respond. The plan was for her to come over after lunch, but if she wants all of my free time tomorrow, she's got it. "As much as you want until five."

We don't even notice the cherry colas sitting beside us until the ice clinks a little. Lottie sits straighter and leans over the bar to take a sip. Her eyes roll back and she sucks down a quarter of the drink. "Oh my goodness, that's amazing."

I have a sip and have to agree, but I'm more interested in where this conversation is going than how good the food is at The Salty Dog. I rest my hand on my knee, accidentally brushing my thumb on her thigh. I adjust appropriately but she's already overcompensating for the mistake by moving her leg. Fortunately, it brings her even closer to me. Unfortunately, one of her friends approaches her, interrupting us.

"Hey, Lots, we're heading out," the woman says and smiles at me.

"Yeah, okay. Um…Oh, this is my friend Andrew," Lottie says and nods toward me.

I offer my hand and the woman takes it. "I'm Destiny, her neighbor in the torturous school where we work."

"Ah, congratulations on the engagement," I say.

"Thanks. It's been a long night though, so I'm going to head out. Sorry to interrupt."

Lottie starts to get up and motions toward Destiny. "Sorry, but she's my ride. See you tomorrow?"

Desperation claws at my insides. I can't let her go, not yet. Not when things were going so well. I say something drastic. "Or you can stay and I'll take you home." Of their own accord, my fingers lace with hers and I tug her back to the seat. Her friend's eyebrows raise and she fights to hold back a grin. Lottie's cheeks blush as she looks to Destiny for an answer.

"Whatever you want, Lots. If I were you, I'd stay here and enjoy the night." Destiny winks at me.

I love Destiny. I know nothing about her, not even her last name, but I love her more than my Nonnie's food right now.

Lottie's gaze connects with mine again and I grin, which only deepens the red in her cheeks.

"I suppose I could be persuaded," she says.

"Mmm, how so?" I rub the inside of her wrist with my thumb and she sighs.

"Take me for a walk on the beach?"

It's a taunt. Does she think I won't do it at this late an hour? I am up for every challenge she wants to throw my way. Walk in wet sand on a cool night with her by my side? What kind of moron would say no?

"Anything you want, Lottie. Moonlight walk on the beach? Done."

I'm rewarded with her happiness and she shoots up from the seat. She hugs Destiny and congratulates her before waving over the woman's head to a crowd of ladies exiting the pub.

And it hits me again.

She chose me.