Fastball Flirt (The Boys of Summer Series Book 1) Read online

  I nod. “Okay.”

  He smiles, his perfect white teeth glistening. I smile back shyly and glance away from his piercing gaze.

  “Tomorrow then.” He descends into the dugout and I blink a million times in a row, desperate to figure out if that was real or if I just had a psychotic break.

  Bridget helps me solve the mystery pretty quickly.

  She squeals and I swear my eardrum just burst. “You’re going on a date with Hollis Graham! Lila, I don’t want to be a bitch, but what the hell is wrong with you? I’m going to help you tonight so you can actually hold a conversation with him tomorrow.” I nod, still in shock, and she sighs. “We have a lot of work to do.”

  THREE

  Lila

  I run out of my bedroom with a dress in one hand and a skirt in the other and I can only imagine sheer panic written all over my face. “Help me,” I beg and my best friend chuckles as she follows me to my room. “What do I wear? Do I go classy or casual? Sweet or sexy?”

  “All of the above.”

  “Oh, well, at least that makes my decision easier.” My tone drips with a combination of sarcasm and panic. My eyes are wide and my forehead is furrowed as I stand in front of my full closet containing nothing suitable for my date.

  I received a text at nine this morning telling me to be ready for our date at six. He’s coming here to pick me up and didn’t give me any more information. I couldn’t get ahold of him all day thanks to practice and the game, which they won, sweeping the series. I don’t know why he’d want to celebrate with me.

  “You can’t go wrong with a classic LBD.” Bridget pushes me aside and pulls out my black spaghetti strap dress.

  “That’s way too fancy. I don’t want to be presumptuous. What if he takes me to McDonald’s? I’ll be overdressed and look like a fool.” She rolls her eyes. True, it’s unlikely he’ll take me to a fast food restaurant, but one never knows.

  “Here,” she shoves a hanger into my chest, “three quarter sleeve tunic dress. It’s pink so it’s girly. Wear your thigh high gray boots with the flat bottoms; that way if you do any walking your feet won’t hurt. Casual, cute, flirty. It’s perfect. Oh, and hair down in waves. When you can’t think of anything to say at least you can act cute and push your hair behind your ears or something.”

  What would I do without her?

  “Thank you!” I give her an awkward hug with the hanger still between us and shoo her from my room to get ready.

  Forty minutes later, I’m dressed and ready to go but my nerves are shot. As I walk into the living room to wait, my other roommate is sitting there studying.

  “Well, well, aren’t we all dressed up?” Bridget and I moved into an apartment with our other friend Phoebe three years ago. We’re all in the same nursing program at Northeastern, but Phoebe is rarely home because she also has to work full time to put herself through school.

  “Lila has a date!” Bridget yells into the living room as she runs down the hallway to join us.

  “A date with a real live boy? Do tell. He must be special to catch your attention.”

  Deep, deep down, Phoebe is a good person, but most of the time she’s too self-centered and focused on her own life. I’m not entirely sure she cares about anyone else.

  “You have no idea. It’s with Hollis Graham—the new pitcher for the Sox. We met him last night at the game and he asked her out. Can you freaking believe it?”

  “Shit. Maybe I should’ve gone to the game last night after all.” She closes her textbook and sits up straight. It’s not lost on me that she believes Hollis would’ve asked her out too if she were there, as if all it takes to score a date with him is being present.

  “Aren’t you dating someone?” I retort, unable to bite my tongue.

  “Yeah, but it’s Hollis Graham,” she says like her response is completely obvious and valid. If you’re dating someone it shouldn’t matter if someone else comes along. There should be no someone better. Not if you’re truly in love.

  Is monogamy an old notion? Am I simply naïve?

  Then again, what do I know? Maybe all the romcoms I watch are getting to my head.

  I don’t have time to overthink because there’s a knock on my door. Three quick raps are all it takes to have my heartbeat thumping in overtime and my hands to turn sweaty. I take a deep, steadying breath before I push off the couch and open the door. My roommates are right behind me, breathing over my shoulder and fawning over my date before the door is even fully open.

  “Hi.” Hollis chuckles under his breath as he glances between me and my two roommates.

  “Hey.” I’m mentally high-fiving myself for responding, even if it was only one syllable. I glance over my shoulders, my cheeks hot at my nosy roommates. I catch Phoebe flipping her hair over her shoulder and smiling like she’s trying to get his attention away from me. Bitch.

  “Ready to go?” I nod and grab my purse before following him out the door and down the hall to the elevator.

  The car is still there from his ride up, so our exit is quick. It’s tense and awkward on the way down, at least for me. My hands are clasped in front of me and I’m looking everywhere but at my date. I exhale a breath I didn’t even know I was holding when the doors open and we step into the lobby of my building. My date leads me outside to a black BMW parked down the street. Like a gentleman, he opens the door for me and does the customary jog around the front to get to his side.

  Being in his space, I can smell him all around me. It’s crisp and manly and freaking intoxicating. The blacked-out beamer is impeccably clean. He even has coasters in his cup holders.

  “Your car is nice,” I note and, though it’s dark, I can almost see him blushing.

  “It’s the first nice thing I bought.” He shrugs like he’s embarrassed by his money. It’s cute.

  “Where are we going?” My curiosity gets the better of me.

  “Someplace I’m sure you’ve never been before.” He smirks as he glances at me before putting the car in drive. Within two minutes I notice we’re driving to the stadium. I won’t complain, though, as long as I get some more crab fries.

  He enters through a gate in the back of the stadium. There’s a security guard who pushes him through and then he parks in what I’m assuming is the player’s parking lot.

  “Sorry to burst your bubble, but I have been here before. Like, yesterday. When we met. You do remember that, don’t you?”

  Does he have such a large rotation of women that he doesn’t even remember where he met me?

  He climbs out of the car and I do the same before he can come around to open the door. When he sees me already climbing out, he stops at the trunk and opens the compartment.

  “I remember, Lila, but have you had a picnic in the middle of the field?” He pulls a large picnic basket from his car and a cheesy grin tugs at my lips.

  I follow him through the stadium and onto the field. As soon as my feet hit the grass, I pause and take it all in. It’s like a dream. The lights in the stadium are on, illuminating the space, but I can still see the stars in the sky. Everything seems so big from this view and I feel minuscule in contrast.

  “This is incredible.” I walk backwards toward the pitcher’s mound with my neck craned to take in everything around me. “I probably sound silly. This is your life. I’m sure it’s nothing to you.”

  “Are you kidding? It’s still surreal to me. This is everything I’ve dreamed of since I was little.” His tone tells a story of how grateful and in awe he is. He’s not cocky, like he deserves to be here more than anyone. He’s appreciative and it’s refreshing.

  There’s a large blanket on the ground covering the mound. He places the basket to the side and takes a seat on the ground. I’m instantly regretting my outfit choice and wishing I stuck with jeans, but I’ll make do.

  “Please tell me there are crab fries in that basket,” I say as I sit on my knees across from him. He hesitates as he pulls a container from the bin.

  “There�
�s not, unfortunately.” His brows crinkle. “But I’ll remember that for next time.” He pulls out several containers with a variety of choices. One has pasta with Alfredo sauce, there’s an oversized salad, another looks to have chicken in it with balls of foil I’m assuming contains baked potatoes by their shape and size, and there’s a container full of rice. “I wasn’t sure what you like or if you were a vegetarian, so I grabbed a variety.”

  “That’s sweet, thank you.” He passes me a plate and some utensils and I dig into the salad first, keeping my eye on the pasta. “For the record, I’m not a vegetarian.”

  “Good to know.”

  I take a bite of my salad while panic sets in knowing there’s a chance I’ll get spinach in my teeth from eating this and I don’t have access to a mirror to check. Maybe I can sneak a peek at my phone camera later.

  “Do you go to school at Northeastern?”

  I nod while I finish chewing. “Yeah, I’m a nursing student. I graduate in a couple of weeks.”

  “That’s awesome. Do you have a job lined up in the city?” He cuts a piece of chicken and I stare like some kind of freak at the way his jaw works.

  “No, I’m headed to grad school in Philadelphia.”

  “Congrats. That’s a big deal.”

  “Says the pro baseball player.”

  “Hey, don’t do that. Your job is way more important than mine. I’m entertainment, but you’re going to save lives,” he tells me with his hand on my knee. The brief contact has my brain short-circuiting.

  I swallow my food around the newfound lump in my throat and nod before changing the subject back to him. It’s easier to be around him when the focus stays on him and off of me.

  “So, what got you into baseball?” I dump some of the pasta on my plate while he sips his water. I’m a little surprised he packed us water and not beer or wine or something else.

  “My dad. Started with tee-ball and little league. He played himself up until he threw his shoulder out. I think I’m living his dream a little bit. Not in like, a bad way, or anything. He never pushed me or was hard on me; only supportive.” I catch his small smile pulling at the corner of his lips, in reference to baseball or his dad, maybe both. “What about you? Why nursing?”

  Why can’t he be a typical narcissistic douche who only wants to talk about himself? Why does he have to be interested in me and my life?

  “My real passion is babies. That’s what I’ll be studying at UPenn the next two years—to be a neonatal nurse practitioner. I just want to save all the babies.” He shakes his head, a smirk gracing his gorgeous mug. “What?”

  “You’re too good for me, Lila.” Tingles sweep up my spine and I can’t help but smile.

  After we eat, we spend the next hour lying on the blanket on top of the pitcher’s mound talking and getting to know one another. Since I was able to get over myself and can actually hold a conversation with him, it feels natural to be with him. The conversation flows easily between us. It’s not weird or jilted.

  The scariest part is, I think I really like him. He’s funny and kind, on top of being insanely handsome and successful. I don’t have any expectations because I know he’s a pro ballplayer, and in reality, he probably does this kind of thing all the time.

  “So, tell me. Is this where you bring all your dates?” Curiosity has gotten the best of me and I can’t help but ask. It’s probably my one and only date with him anyway, so who really cares?

  “Lila.” His voice is serious. I glance over and see him leaning on an elbow and I sit up, matching his position to look into his eyes. “I wanted you to be my first.” My eyes bug out of my head and when he cracks a smile, I exhale and allow a small chuckle to escape.

  “You scared me for a minute.” He winks at me.

  “But seriously, no. I don’t normally do this. I don’t know if you’re going to believe me, but it’s the truth. I’ve never brought a girl into my world before; most can’t handle it, but I’ve especially never brought them here, made it so personal.”

  “Why me, then? What makes me special?” I lie back down as I say the words, unable to look him in the eyes as I expose my vulnerabilities.

  “Can I be honest with you?”

  “I’d prefer it.”

  His deep chuckle pierces the tension in the air as I pinch my eyes closed, bracing for the worst. “I don’t know. That’s the truth. I don’t know what it is about you. You caught my eye and I couldn’t get you out of my head the entire game.”

  “You saw me and threw me a baseball within one inning.”

  “No, before the game even started I spotted you. I felt your eyes on me and I went for it. I’m not afraid to go after what I want. If I were, I wouldn’t be where I am today. Even if you rejected me, you know what they say. Never let the fear of striking out keep you from playing the game.”

  I sit up all the way now. “Did you just quote A Cinderella Story?”

  He sits up with me. “I have a little sister,” he says on a shrug like it explains everything.

  The end of our date looms before us and I’m saddened by the thought. I don’t want it to end. Every word he says has me enamored. It’s like I can’t learn enough about him. He seems reluctant to leave as well, but as the time passes, the night gets colder. Goosebumps pebble on my forearms and thighs, forcing us to call it a night.

  I help him pack everything up, including the blanket, even though it was already here when he arrived. He explained how he hired some help and I’m touched at the effort and thoughtfulness he poured into this date. We lug everything back to his car and he starts it, putting on the heat, though we’re sure to be back at my apartment before the car even warms up.

  “I had a really nice time tonight,” I tell him, not expecting anything else. We didn’t kiss, we didn’t hold hands, and we barely touched, but it was the most romantic and intimate date I’ve ever been on.

  “As did I,” he tells me with a smile.

  Hollis drives the short distance to my apartment, shocked when I notice the clock says it’s after eleven. Did we really spend five hours together?

  “Thank you for tonight. It sounds lame, but it was the best night I think I’ve ever had,” I tell him with stark honesty.

  “It’s not lame.” He leans an inch over the center console and I panic. I never checked my teeth! What if I’ve had spinach in them the whole time? I should’ve brought a mint or gum or something.

  I fling my seatbelt off of me and almost knock myself out with the aggressive force. “It was nice to meet you!” I basically yell like he’s across the street and not sitting right beside me. I throw the door open and slam it shut, cringing at my less than gracious exit.

  I head toward my building when I hear his door open and close as well. I pick up speed, walking as if I’m in the qualifying rounds for Speed Walking at the Olympics.

  “Lila,” he chuckles. I’m glad he finds my psychosis humorous. Or maybe I should be worried he’s finding me charming? I’m clearly off my freaking rocker.

  “Good day and good night. Au revoir. Good luck with baseball. May the odds be ever in your favor.” When did I turn into Effie Trinket?

  I push through the doors to the lobby and book it to the elevators. Unfortunately, he’s quicker than the car.

  “Lila.”

  “Oh! Ha ha. Hollis, right? Funny running into you here.” Oh my God, I hate myself.

  “You’re cute when you’re nervous.”

  “Me? Nervous? What ever could you mean?” I fake laugh and almost choke on my own spit. Are insane asylums still a thing? Yes, Arkham Asylum, room for one, please.

  “I’ll be on the road for the next two series, but when I come back I want to see you again.” The elevator doors finally open and I can escape.

  Except…he follows me into the car and he’s the one to press the button for my floor. Is he inviting himself up? Do all the women throw themselves at him and sleep with him on the first night? Yes, most likely, considering he’s a professional athl
ete. I chastise my subconscious and mentally vow to not be that girl.

  “You don’t have to pretend, Hollis. I know you’re just coming up to my place to try and get laid and make empty promises you have no intention of keeping, but you should know I don’t sleep with anyone on the first date, not even Hollis-Freaking-Graham.”

  “It’s Andrew.”

  “What?” He smirks.

  “My middle name. It’s not Freaking, it’s Andrew.”

  “Oh, you think you’re so cute.” The doors open on my floor and I walk down the hall to my apartment.

  “I think you’re cute, and for the record, I’m walking you home, not trying to sleep with you.”

  “Oh.” My cheeks heat at my assumption. Maybe he doesn’t want to sleep with me at all.

  “Come on, Lila. You had a good time tonight, you said so yourself. Go out with me again.” When he smiles at me with his boyish grin and his puppy dog eyes, I’m a goner.

  “Don’t make me regret this.”

  His smile broadens and he leans down and pecks me on the cheek. “I’ll talk to you soon, Lila.”

  The door opens and my roommates pull me inside as I’m waving goodbye. When I turn to face them, they say in unison, “Spill.”

  FOUR

  Hollis

  “Come on, man, you comin’?” Owen, my temporary roommate for this stretch of games, smacks my Nike-clad foot as he passes by my bed. The guy is worse than any girl I’ve ever known. He’s been in the bathroom getting ready for the past hour and a half.

  I throw my legs off the bed and grab my phone, unlocking it to scroll through my conversation with Lila one last time. Her last message says Good Luck! followed by a four-leaf clover emoji, a smiley face emoji, and a tiger, whatever that means.

  I haven’t been able to get her out of my head since I met her. Even though we only hung out once and I hardly know her, there’s something about her. She’s invigorating. A breath of fresh air.