Page 43 of Strike Zone

Hart scowls in my direction. “You need to pick,” he says once he’s done assessing me.

“You need to get ready to bat.” I ignore his statement completely. There’s nothing to pick. It’s painfully obvious Charlie isn’t interested and Wren…she was never an option. She's practically engaged to another man.

“Who is he picking between?” Koa asks, his brows furrowed under the rim of his ball cap.

“Wren and Charlie,” Hart answers.

“But I thought he liked Charlie? What does Wren have to do with anything?” Koa and Hart continue to talk about my life like I’m not sitting here.

“Wren’s been coming over to the house almost every day. You wouldn’t know because you haven’t been around much, have you?” Hart’s accusatory tone doesn’t faze Koa.

“Where have you been?” I ask.

“Nowhere you need to worry about,” he grumbles.

“No need to snap at me, Mr. Sensitive.” I wish he would tell Nash he’s in love with Sydney already so he’ll stop being a grouchy asshole. I’ve known these guys most of my life, and Koa has always had eyes on that girl.

I would be surprised if Nash didn’t already know. If Koa and Sydney think they are being secretive, they’re idiots. It’s probably why Nash keeps reminding us Syd is off limits. Because he isn’t blind or stupid.

Oh goody, Thomas slides up next to Hart and taps him on the shoulder. “Who are the new girls sitting with Lauren and Sydney?” he asks.

Hart doesn’t answer him.

“The cute brunette is wearing my jersey. Think she’s into me?”

“Absolutely fucking not,” I say with a scoff.

He turns toward me. “How would you know?”

“Because she has more than two brain cells in her head.” I scowl at him.

“That’s too bad. She looks fucking phenomenal with my name on her back.” He smirks. Fucker. He won’t be smiling when I put super glue in his body wash.

“Choose,” Hart says, as he puts on his batting helmet and leaves the dugout.

Thank fuck he takes Thomas with him.

Does Hart know something I don’t? Is Wren talking to Lauren? They do have their weekly lunches. Maybe I need to crash one of those again and get some intel.

Koa stands and grabs his helmet. “When did you become the dating type anyway?”

“I didn’t. Hart don’t know what he’s talking about. And if you think you’re going to give me advice on my love life, be prepared to hear my thoughts on yours.”

Koa frowns and grunts before leaving the dugout to go wait on deck. That’s what I thought.

“Rivers,” Coach Lawson calls out to me.

“Yes, Coach?” I walk over to where he’s standing near the dugout entrance.

“How’s your arm holding up? Do you have another inning in you?”

“I’m good.”

“There are a few scouts in the stands,” he says, never taking his eye off the field.

“I’m aware, sir.” Despite my focus being split between the game and Wren, I haven’t lost sight of the bigger picture. Making a good impression with the scouts is vital.

Thomas ends up striking out, sorry not sorry, leaving Hart and Koa on base and ending the inning. Time to get back to work.

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