Page 55 of The Best Friend and the Shortstop

That’s not a text from her.

I swipe my phone.

BRAYDEN: Took Nikki to dinner at Patty’s. She seemed upset. Was that Alicia I saw you leave with?

That motherfucker!

I toss my phone into the passenger seat and peel out in reverse while I fumble my seat belt back in place. I’m in the Patty’s lot in under a minute, not even sure if I turned the car off or shut my door by the time I bust through the entry doors and zero in on Brayden.

“You really must love getting punched in the face,” I say to his back.

My fist is ready to swing as he turns around, but before I can take a crack at him, Nikki walks out from the restroom and sits down at a table across the room next to Cutter and his girlfriend. Her phone is on the table. She didn’t even see my calls.

“You know what? You’re not worth it,” I drop my hand and start to move past him.

“I hear they moved in together, by the way. Your dad and my cousin? I bet you didn’t know that part yet.” I stop, still within striking distance, and let my jaw pop. My molars press together hard enough to crack while my hand flexes at my side.

But then, she sees me.

Nikki’s gaze cuts right through the crowded bar, across a dozen tables filled with beer and loud ballplayers and sorority girls and frat boys. She rises above the noise, and my body relaxes.

I turn my head to Brayden, who is clearly sitting alone—now that my wits let me take in the context clues. I reach into my wallet and pull out a twenty, tossing it on the table.

“Good for them. This round’s on me to celebrate. Enjoy.”

I shove my wallet back into my workout pants, then beeline through the crowd to Nikki. Before she has a chance to open her mouth, I lift her from her stool and toss her over my shoulder like I did in high school.

“Alex Mendoza, what are you doing?” She swats at my back, open-palmed, and her hits are landing hard. I’m sure there are prints left behind, but I can handle it.

“I’m taking you to my bed,” I say, loud enough that Cutter, his girlfriend Laney, and half the damn bar hears me. I gather up her wallet and phone, tucking them into the front of my hoodie, then face Cole at the next table.

“Atta boy,” he says, and we high-five.

“You are not seriously doing this. Alex, put me down!” She’s pulling at my waistband, a move she’s had for years. She’s smart. She always gives me wedgies when I lift her this way. She’s not gentle.

“Gentlemen,” I say, saluting a few of the guys to my right.

The immediate crowd starts to cheer, which only eggs Nikki on more. She manages to grab a beer from one of the tables as I snake our way through the bar, and pours it down the back of my leg. I laugh, though it’s pretty fucking cold.

It gets quiet once I exit Patty’s and even quieter when the door slams shut behind me. I march to my car, which, yup—is still running. I carry her to the passenger side and open the door while she kicks and flails. I finally put her down because wrangling her into this seat is like putting a cat in a sample cup of water.

She smacks my chest with her palms.

“I’m still mad at you, Alex Mendoza!” She’s practically growling, but also, there’s a flicker in her eyes.

“Yeah, well, I love you, Nikki Thomas,” I say back.

In a half second, her expression morphs from one ready to spit fire at me into a wide-eyed girl in shock. I nod.

“Yeah, I love you. I’m sorry I got pissy and took my shit out on you. And I’m sorry it took me years to tell you. But I love you. And I think maybe you love me. So, there it is. Be mad at me. Let me have it. And when you’re done, I’d really like to fucking kiss you.”

17

nikki

“Well, dammit.”

How can I be this mad yet want to grin ear to ear?

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