Hard Ball (Stadium Series Book 1) Read online

  “Harper, what is hard to believe? The guy likes you. He’s made that pretty clear every time he’s been around you, so what’s holding you back?”

  Urgh, why can’t we go back to talking about her love life and not mine? I liked that conversation a lot more.

  “I don’t want to date an athlete,” I admit, Mel breaking into a fit of laughter beside me.

  “Athlete or baseball player?” she teases because she knows she’s right. “Harper, he is not your dad.”

  The sip of wine goes down heavy as I set the glass down on the table.

  “I know that.” I avoid her eyes because I know that the minute she sees them, she’ll see the truth written all over my face.

  “Do you? Because for the entire time I’ve known you, you’ve used your father’s death as a way to keep people away.”

  I sigh, hating that she’s right.

  “You need to let him go, you need to stop letting the fact that your dad’s not here be a deterrent for you finally finding happiness.”

  “I know my fear is irrational, but the thought of being a part of that world again makes me panic. I honestly don’t know if I could handle it.” My head goes into my hands as I start to take deep breaths, hoping to curb the panic attack that’s looming in my periphery.

  “What makes you think you’d have to be a part of that world again?” She can’t be serious.

  “Josh is a baseball player. How can our relationship survive when I’m not a part of that? He would resent me. It’s his whole world, and if I’m not a part of that, then what kind of relationship would we have?”

  “Why don’t you let him decide that?”

  I know she’s right, but I don’t really want to hear it. Not right now.

  “Well, what about you, huh? What’s making you second-guess your single life?” I’m changing the subject, needing the conversation to get away from Josh.

  “I just want what I used to have with Carson.”

  The mention of that boy’s name sends a wave of anger through every limb of my body.

  “I know you hate him…” she starts, but I stop her.

  “That’s an understatement,” I murmur, hearing the edge in my voice.

  That boy was a bastard and a half. He made Mel fall in love with him and over the course of a year, he shattered everything. He’s the reason we moved out of the dorms and into our own place. He was the reason she looked over her shoulder for three years waiting for him to come back.

  “But I felt loved when I was with him, I felt like I belonged somewhere, you know?”

  I smile softly, knowing exactly what she’s feeling. Even though I hate him, I get it. I had that feeling with Cole, and it’s the one I miss the most.

  “That’s normal and trust me, I get it. But what caused this? You haven’t been with Carson in over five years, what changed?”

  Before she can answer, my phone goes off in the kitchen. I ignore it, but when it goes off, again and again, I make my way into the kitchen to grab it. When I check to see who it is, I groan.

  “Who is it?” Mel asks as I walk back into the room with my phone in hand. I sit down next to her and show her the screen with missed calls from Cole. “Jesus. Does that boy ever take a hint?”

  “I honestly don’t know what else to do, I’ve told him so many times that we’re over…” I lean back on the couch wondering how I’m going to get him to stop this.

  “Well, I can think of something that might work…” Mel suggests, looking like she has something up her sleeve. That is never a good sign. “You could go out with a certain baseball player, that might send Cole the hint he so desperately needs.”

  I roll my eyes, shaking my head. If I need to date a guy to get rid of another guy, my life is just turning sad and pathetic.

  “You never know, it might work.”

  I know she means well, but I know that’s not the way to handle this.

  “Nope, no way. I’ll endure Cole’s insufferable torture before I purposefully date Josh just to get rid of him.” I finish just as another text comes through. I miss you, baby. Call me. I shut off my phone completely, without responding.

  “I know you like him, Harper.” My stern look does nothing but make her shake her head. “You do. You blush whenever I mention his name and I know you think about him.”

  I scoff. “I do not,” I lie.

  “A guy that gorgeous? You would be stupid not to think about him.”

  I blush again. Fuck, I hate having fair skin. Traitor.

  “Okay, so maybe I daydream about him, but that doesn’t mean I want to date him. It’s too soon after the whole Cole situation.” I can’t go into a relationship when the last one still hasn’t left me alone. That’s not fair to either of us.

  “I call bullshit.” My eyes bug out of my head as Mel gets this smug grin on her face. “You’re scared.”

  The idea of actually falling for someone like Josh makes my insides tremble, and for a good reason. Seeing him with Henry, at our gym, being around my family, around my life, I can picture what that life would look like. I can see the happiness and the love that would come from it, but then I remember my father, and what the game did to him, and how he lost it all in a split second only for him to be stolen from me.

  My reality is always so much worse than my fantasy.

  “What if I am scared?” I whisper, Mel’s arms wrapping around me as she brings me into a hug I desperately need.

  “Then face it. Fear is not an emotion to live by. Your dad would want you to be happy, no matter the circumstances and that includes dating a baseball player. A fucking hot one at that…”

  I laugh against her shoulder. She’s not wrong, he is hot.

  “I don’t know if I’m ready.”

  “Harper, you’re allowed to feel that way. Just don’t lie to him or yourself. Stringing him along is not fair to Josh.” She squeezes me as I rest my head on her shoulder. If only guys were as easy to read as me.

  I wake to the smell of coffee and when I move to get out of bed, the pounding in my head reminds me of the seemingly endless glasses of wine I had last night.

  “Wake up, sleepyhead!” Mel yells from outside my bedroom door. I don’t know how she can even walk right now with how much we both drank. “Henry has already called wondering when you’re getting to work!”

  Fuck.

  I get out of bed, pulling some clean clothes from my closet and making my way into the kitchen.

  “Here.” She hands me a mug of coffee as I sit down at the island.

  “You are a godsend,” I sigh, taking a sip and feeling the warmth spread through my body. I see the remnants of her makeshift bed on the couch and make a mental note to research pullout couches later.

  “You’re not going to like me in a few seconds.”

  I quirk an eyebrow as she places her phone down in front of me. A web page is open on her browser and once I see what it’s about, my heart sinks.

  “What the…” I murmur, looking at the picture of Josh and Angela sitting together at a basketball game, seemingly on a date.

  “That’s what I said too when I saw it,” Mel says, hovering over my shoulder.

  “When was this taken?” I already know the answer won’t make me feel any better, but I still want to know.

  “Last night.”

  My heart sinks even further. Shit.

  “Maybe it’s not what it looks like?” Mel says hopefully, but let’s be honest, it’s kind of hard to fake that.

  “I knew it was too good to be true.” I hate that I let myself, even for a split second get caught up in him.

  “You should talk to him, let him at least explain.”

  I hold up my hand, not really in the mood for this right now. Not with the pounding headache that is still logged in the back of my head.

  “Well, I need to head out,” she says. “Mom has apparently found another prospective husband for me.” The disgusted look on her face tells me this is the reason she’s so sick of the dat
ing game. She wants her mother off her back as she attempts to set up Mel as much as possible.

  “Again? What is this, the fourth one this month?” I ask, wondering how many eligible men her mother could find.

  “Seems about right, they’re not all bad. I get free dinners out of them at least.”

  I feel bad for her. Her mother has never approved of her “lifestyle” but she managed from what she tells me. We both come from wealthy backgrounds, each of us hating that scene more and more the older we got, hence our friendship.

  We say our goodbyes as she heads home, and I head to the gym. The second I walk through the door, I notice Angela talking to one of the regulars. I watch her, with her perfect blonde hair that sits high on top of her head in a ponytail, a look that seems extremely put together yet effortless. Her outfit looks like it was made for Instagram models and not for working out at a gym. Yet the one thing I see as I watch her?

  That photo.

  That’s all I can see and I hate it. I hate that it’s getting to me, I hate that I care so much about a guy I claim to not want to date.

  I shake my head and head over to my office. I wave to Henry as I pass, he reclines in his chair and goes back to whatever he was staring at on his computer screen.

  “Well, well,” Angela sneers, leaning against the doorframe of my office as I take my seat at my desk. I look up to see a self-satisfied grin appear on her face.

  “What can I do for you?” I ask, trying to seem busy when all I want to do is stab this pen I’m holding into her cheek.

  “I heard you and Josh were talking yesterday. Wendy told me she saw you throw yourself at him like some kind of desperate teenager. Apparently, it was quite a sad sight.”

  I roll my eyes. Of course, Wendy would say that. She’s her best friend and a regular here, so it doesn’t surprise me in the least that she ratted me out.

  “Yeah, well, Wendy needs to get her eyes checked,” I say, turning on my computer and looking through the schedule and wondering if she’d notice if I put her on straight nights for the next two weeks.

  “What do you want, Angela?” I ask again, hoping she gets sick of this and leaves me alone.

  “Nothing, really. I just wanted you to know that my date with Josh last night went super late, so I’m gonna leave early since I’m so tired.”

  I smirk because I know she’s trying to get a rise out of me, and although it’s working, she has no idea what I have in store for her.

  “Actually, you’re working nights the next few days. I’ve been taking your shifts and I’m sick and tired of it, so you’ll be closing and I’ll be leaving early.”

  “What!” she screams. “You can’t do that.”

  I raise an eyebrow asking her to question me.

  “I’m going to talk to Henry.”

  I smile as I quickly send him a text explaining everything, letting him know he can’t budge on this.

  “Go right ahead, now, unlike some people, I have actual work to do. So, if you’ll excuse me…” I take my eyes off her, ignoring her huffing as I try and distract myself from the image of her and Josh together.

  9

  Josh

  I wake to the sound of my phone going off on the bedside table. I groan, looking at the open windows and still seeing darkness. This can’t be good. When I pick up my phone and see it’s my agent, my chest begins to ache because the only reason he ever calls this early is because some shit hit the fan.

  “There better be a good reason for this phone call, Justin.” My voice is groggy from sleep, and when I take a peek at my clock and see that it isn’t even six in the morning, I silently curse.

  “Sorry to wake you this early, I know it’s game day.”

  I lay my head back on my pillow, staring up at the ceiling, waiting for him to get to the point.

  “Okay, I won’t sugarcoat this. Paparazzi were at the game last night.”

  I roll my eyes because this is not news to me, I saw them there.

  “And your point?” My anger is directed more at the fact that I would rather sleep for another few hours and not be on this phone call.

  “Did you by chance hang out with a pretty blonde girl while you were there?” I crinkle my brow, wondering how they got a picture of Harper and me together, then the night comes back to me and I sit straight up. They didn’t get a picture of Harper; they got a picture of that other chick. What was her name? Angela?

  “Fuck,” I curse, probably for a completely different reason than he thinks.

  “I know it’s not that big of a deal to be photographed with a woman, especially at an event like that, but I wanted to let you know that this might cause more of a media circus than you usually receive. Might even get some questions when you do press today. I just wanted to warn you.”

  I sigh, thankful he told me but silently wondering why this couldn’t have just been an email.

  “Thanks for letting me know.” There’s a silence on the other end, and I take a breath, knowing what question is coming.

  “Do I need to know anything about this girl? You dating her?”

  A laugh bursts out of my chest at the thought of dating someone like Angela. Although she’s a perfectly beautiful woman, the only blonde I want in my life can’t stand to be around me right now.

  “Nothing to worry about. She came over to talk to me, that’s it.”

  Justin makes a satisfied noise before he tells me goodbye and hangs up the phone.

  Before I think better of it, I open my phone and find the website I know has the pictures I’m looking for. The second the images load, I close my eyes, regretting ever going to that game. The pictures look like we’re dating, her hand on my knee, me smiling in her direction and the loving look in her eyes. It’s naïve of me to think that Harper won’t see these, and that breaks me a little.

  I want her. There is something about her that draws me in, like a moth to a flame, and now with these pictures out in the world? Convincing her that we’re meant to be will be a whole lot harder.

  On my way to the stadium, I stop at a local coffee shop that’s close to the gym. My eyes automatically scan the area, hoping to see a glimpse of Harper while I’m here, hoping I can explain everything, but she’s not here.

  “Can I help you?” the barista calls, shaking me out of my own head. I give her my order, pay, and then wait off to the side.

  “Well, well, well, fancy seeing you here.” I turn to find Angela standing to my left, her eyes scanning from my chest to my eyes and back again. “I didn’t know you came here for coffee.”

  “I don’t. Not normally,” I admit, wanting the barista to make my coffee faster so I can get the hell out of here.

  “Well, I’m glad you stopped by…” Her fingers trace up my arm in a move that I know is meant for me to fall at her feet, but it only makes me move away from her touch.

  “Look, Angela, I’m really flattered that you’re interested, but the feeling is not mutual, okay?” I expect a confused look, I expect maybe some flicker of anger behind those green eyes but what I get is a million-dollar smile.

  “Sure thing, handsome. Keep telling yourself that.” She winks, her fingers teasing over my skin once more before she struts past me and out the front door. It’s not until my name is called and I take my coffee from the girl behind the counter that I realize Angela never got a drink.

  I shake the nagging thought that’s rolling around in my head and head back out to my truck. Why is it that the one girl I can’t stop thinking about wants nothing to do with me, but the one girl I want to leave me the hell alone keeps showing up like she has a tracking device hidden in my clothes? If I were ten years younger, I would have jumped at the chance to bag a girl like Angela. She’s beautiful in the obvious sense, the way she does her hair all the way down to the way her nails match her outfit. It’s all calculated, contrived, and assembled accordingly and although some men might like that, I have a penchant for yoga pants and T-shirts.

  It’s been a week since
the bar, a week of knowing Harper is out there, denying her feelings when I can see them clear as day when we’re together. Her mouth tells me to leave her alone but when I see that lust burning behind those gorgeous eyes of hers, I know I need to keep going. Do I crowd her? No. If I thought for one second that she really wanted me to leave her alone, I would. I’m not a stalker. But I know that look in her eye, I know it because it’s the same one that I get whenever I think about her, whenever I’m near her and honestly, I want her more than I’ve ever wanted another woman and a part of me is petrified.

  As I start my truck, turning onto the road and driving toward the stadium, my phone rings. It’s Will.

  “Are you on your way?” he asks, an edge to his voice that causes the hairs on the back of my neck to prick up.

  “Yeah, why?”

  “Coach is on a rampage. T.J. is talking shit; you know the normal stuff. Just thought I would warn you, so you hurry your ass up.”

  Coach being on a tear is nothing new. It’s game day, it’s something to be expected. But the T.J. thing. That is new.

  “What the fuck does T.J. have to say, the guy just got called up from the minors.” He’s been up for about a week and the second I met him, I knew he was going to be trouble. The boy—because that’s what he is, a fucking boy—is more concerned with taking my job than actually improving his own.

  “The usual. Telling people you’re a has-been, washed up and ready to be replaced.”

  The groan that leaves my chest is loud and heavy. I’m getting way too old for this high school shit.

  “Don’t listen to him, Anderson, you know he’s full of crap.”

  That’s an understatement. The only reason he was brought up was because Lopez got hurt and needs surgery on his knee. Without that, he’d still be rotting in Triple-A, wondering when he was going to be brought up to The Show.

  “Thanks for the warning.” Sarcasm drips from every word, and from the way Will laughs on the other end, I know he got the message.

  “See you soon!” he yells before hanging up and I take a big swig of my coffee. I have a feeling I’m going to need it.