Page 28 of The Trouble with Players

He glanced around the empty café. “I’ve got nowhere to be.”

“I’m not about to unload my sob story on a guy I hated up until a few minutes ago.”

“So, let me get this straight. You don’t hate me anymore?”

I bit back a smile. “I’m starting to be able to stomach you.”

He laughed. “Stomach me? Gee, I’m glad to hear you can stomach me.”

The bell on the door jingled. Crew quickly pulled the brim of his hat down lower until it was nearly covering his eyes.

I glanced over my shoulder expecting to see one of his hook-ups. But two guys in Sharks ball caps walked toward us.

“Hey, Burke,” one of them said.

Crew glanced up as if he hadn’t noticed them enter. “What’s up, Pryor? DePetrillo?”

Pryor, the jerk who’d pulled me in the pool, looked to me and stifled a smile. “Never wear a white T-shirt to a pool party.”

My jaw clenched. “Seriously?”

Crew reached across the table and placed his hand on my arm. “Don’t.”

Who did he think he was telling me not to talk?

“What time you heading to the field?” DePetrillo interjected.

“We’ve got the autograph thing first,” Crew said as he removed his hand from my arm. “So, I’ll probably get there at three.”

They both groaned.

“Get used to it if you think you’re going to the big leagues,” Crew said.

“See you later,” Pryor said heading to a booth away from ours.

“I hope not,” I mumbled.

Once they were gone, Crew looked to me. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For not doing that thing you do.”

My brows shot up. “That thing I do?”

“Yeah. The thing where you’re ready to fight anyone who looks at you the wrong way.”

“I don’t do that,” I challenged.

“You do that more than any person I’ve ever met.”

I rolled my eyes.

“Not everyone hates you, Peyton. Not everyone is trying to wrong you. Not everyone deserves your bad attitude.”

“There is nothing bad about my attitude,” I said, though I didn’t even believe my own words.

He took a bite of his pancakes instead of bothering to debate it.

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