Chapter 3

"You clean up well," Gina teased as I met her at the end of my gravel driveway.

My eyes drifted over her sundress and wedges. "One of us has to look presentable."

She laughed as our Uber pulled up, and we slipped into the backseat.

"Monty's, right?" I asked her.

"Of course," she said with a grin.

We'd been getting into Monty's with fake IDs since we were seventeen. Now, we were legit twenty-one-year-olds. After a short drive along the coast, our driver dropped us in front of the beachside bar. We showed the bouncer our IDs and slipped inside to grab a drink. The place was pretty busy for a Wednesday night. But, then again, most people were vacationing, so the days of the week on the Cape were irrelevant. We wove our way through the tables until we reached the bar. The bartender lifted her chin in my direction.

"Two Coronas," I called before scanning the bar for familiar faces. Most looked like tourists. A group of guys near the pool table caught my attention. They were around our age but didn't pay us the least bit of attention.

The bartender returned with the beers, and I paid before we walked out to the back deck. Tiki torches surrounded the deck, and big bulb lights were strung every which way above our heads. I leaned against the railing and gazed out at the ocean. The roar of the waves was more prominent in the darkness. "It's so beautiful at night," I mused. "I really missed this."

"You sure you want to leave?" she asked.

"I don't want to leave. I think I need to leave."

An older guy wearing a straw hat stepped up, leaning against the railing beside us. "Hey, ladies. You come here often?"

I looked to Gina. "Is he serious?"

She stifled a grin.

"Of course I'm serious," he said, a slight slur to his words.

"Sorry to break it to you," I said. "But that pick-up line went out with the denim shorts you're wearing."

He glanced down at his shorts. "The guy at the store said they were vintage."

I winced. "He played you, dude."

He shook his head and walked away.

"Not everyone can afford to pull off the ridiculously-expensive-but-trying-to-look-like-a-beach-bum-look you're sporting," a voice nearby said.

I spun around. Crew stood behind me sipping a beer. His eyes were nearly concealed by the Sharks ball cap he wore low on his head, his messy hair peeking out all around it. My teeth clenched. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't realize we were pointing out other people's indiscretions. Have we hit that point in our relationship already?"

"You don't need to be such a bitch. The guy clearly thought you were cute and wanted to talk to you."

"Just because someone wants to talk to me doesn't mean I wanna talk to them," I challenged. "Case in point."

Crew's jaw ticked as if dealing with me was so difficult. "You're no better than him. You're no better than anyone."

"Excuse me?" I said.

"Nope. Excuse me." He turned away from us and headed inside the bar.

"Holy shit," Gina said.

My eyes jumped to hers. "What?"

"He's even better looking up close."

I hitched my thumb over my shoulder. "That's what you took away from that?"

She shrugged guiltily. "I didn't hear much. I was staring at his blue eyes and chiseled jaw line."

I rolled my eyes. Good looks meant nothing. All they did was conceal lies and mask deceit.

Gina and I spent most of the night on the patio, avoiding straw hat guy and asshole ball players. I filled Gina in on all the places I'd traveled while abroad, my phone call with my mom, and my current room situation.

"Sounds like both of your parents made decisions for you," she said.

"I'm an adult. They can't tell me what to do."

Gina stifled a smile.

"What?"

"Ironically, you sound very much like a little kid right now."

I tilted my head to the side. "You know you're one of the only people on this planet I'd let speak to me that way, right?"

She pressed her hand to her heart. "Honored."

I took a swig of my beer to conceal my grin.

"Seriously, though, I think you and Crew need to get whatever's going on figured out before it gets worse," she offered.

"You know what? That's a great idea." I moved to the deck bar and ordered a couple tequila shots. I handed Gina one and lifted mine into the air. "To another amazing summer."

"To another amazing summer," she repeated before we downed our shots, the straight alcohol burning a path down my throat.

"Now, let's go inside," I said, starting to feel the effects of all the alcohol I'd drank.

"Oh," Gina said, finally catching on to my true intent. "That's probably not the best idea," she called, following after me.

"It was your idea," I reminded her.

"But I didn't mean right now."

We pushed our way through the people congregating inside as I searched for Crew. I could see the group of guys still playing pool in the corner of the room, and I wondered if I'd missed him when we first arrived.

As we neared the group, I realized they all wore Sharks ball caps and were all six feet or taller. All built. All pretty damn good looking. I made my way over to the pool table, eyeing the girls hanging around them. Damn groupies. The Cape League was an invite only baseball league made up of college players who had a shot at making it to the major leagues. Not all of them would get drafted, but some definitely would. That meant they needed to beware of groupies looking to latch on to them for what they could become—and possess. And, these girls would go to great lengths to get them.

"Hey beautiful," one of the guys said.

I rolled my eyes, in no mood for more lame pick-up lines.

"Hi," Gina said, eating up the lines.

Shewas allowed to fall for them. I just wouldn't be susceptible to ball players' shady ways.

"Haven't seen you two around here before," the guy said. "You tourists?"

"Nope. We're locals," Gina explained. "Peyton just returned from backpacking around Europe. We needed a night out to celebrate."

"Europe, huh?" he asked me. "How was that?"

"Well, there were no baseball players around, so there was that."

"Peyton," Gina chided under her breath.

"What?" I asked innocently. "Just making an observation."

"You guys play for the Sharks?" she asked him, even though his hat answered her question.

"Yup," he said with a grin displaying two front teeth slightly bigger than the rest. "We're undefeated."

I scoffed.

"Don't you like baseball?" he asked me.

"I love baseball. Just not the players," I said.

"Noted." His eyes shifted back to Gina. "Can I get you a drink?"

She nodded, seemingly just as put off by my bad attitude as he was. She followed him to the bar, and I was left to stand awkwardly alone.

"If you were going for the everyone-stay-the-hell-away-from-me-because-I'm-a-bitch routine, you nailed it," Crew said, materializing beside me.

"Good. Wouldn't want to catch anything from any of you," I said.

"Oh, rest assured. None of us would touch you."

"Perfect."

He looked at me with disdain. "Why don't you head home. Wouldn't want you bringing your negativity near my teammates."

"I'll go home when I want to go home," I said. "And I'm not the one with a curfew."

"Yeah, but you're the one who acts like they need one." He turned away from me and walked over to an empty chair near the pool table. As soon as he sat, a girl found her way onto his lap. And she wasn't the girl from earlier. Pig.

She smirked my way, telling me she thought getting his attention would piss me off.

Nope. You can have him. Just not in my room.

I turned away from them and found Gina and the ball player at the bar.

"You want a drink?" he offered, though I sensed he only did it to gain brownie points with Gina.

"No. I'm fine," I said.

"You know Crew?" he asked, clearly having seen us talking.

"My family's hosting him," I explained.

"Your dad's Marty Richmond?" Excitement radiated off him like all of my father's fans.

"The one and only," I said, less than pleased to have to admit it.

"Dude's a legend," he said. "I cried when he retired."

I didn't respond.

"I asked Crew to get me an autograph," he continued, "but he hasn't yet."

"Maybe Gina can bring you over to the house," I offered.

Gina's eyes got all big, knowing I was a true wingman—when I wasn't being such a bitch. "Sure," she said.

He smiled, and I knew I just assured Gina that she'd be seeing Mr. Ball Player again.

"I'm gonna head out," I told her.

Her face dropped as if it was the last thing she wanted to do.

"You stay," I assured her. "I need to walk."

"You sure?" she asked, though I knew she didn't want to leave with me.

"Have fun. I'll talk to you tomorrow."