“Now, McCall!”
My jaw drops. Though his tone was light, almost teasing, he still shouted loudly enough that everyone in the dugout stops what they’re doing to watch me follow his orders.
Kendra’s diabolical plan from earlier jumps to mind, and I tip ever so slightly toward her camp. Maybe Icouldbe that vigilante hero she needs.
Sawyer’s brown eyes stay pinned on me until I’m in front of him. It’s a weird little triangle we form, Charlotte, Sawyer, and me. I’m taller than her, but not by much, and we’re both dwarfed by Sawyer.
“I was just going to get a margarita,” I tell him, not bothering to hide my sass.
“You can get one later. I need to know what position you want to play.”
I look down at his clipboard, but his baseball lingo looks like a foreign language. “Aren’t you just going to stick me in the outfield? I suck.”
He tips his head. “If that’s where you want to be, then sure. But if you want to try out another spot, we can shift things around. Doesn’t have to be that serious.”
Is he kidding? At this very moment the other team is rattling the chain-link dugout walls and chanting a battle cry.
“I’m playing outfield too.” Charlotte chimes in to try to smooth the choppy waters.
I scowl at her, realizing too late that there’s no real reason for me not to be nice to this girl. I don’t know her; I don’t have a problem with her. So what if she’s standing a little too close to Sawyer? Or that up close it’s impossible not to see how pretty she is?
Sawyer performs the customary greetings. “Charlotte, this is Madison, David’s sister.”
She extends her dainty hand, and we shake. Her smile is friendly and accommodating, everything I’m not being.
“I loveDave!”
“Me too,” I add dully.
She giggles, and I realize she reminds me of someone.
Me.The version of me back at Auburn, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.
“Charlotte, you want a margarita?” Pam calls to her.
“Maybe just a small one!”
She smiles and gushes that it was great to meet me, and I watch her walk away, knowing it’ll give me the opportunity to regroup before I have to refocus my attention on Sawyer. His gaze takes me in with a mixture of curiosity and intrigue; panic rises immediately, this fear that he might try to pick up where we left off at John’s Ice House, and then what will I do? I can practically feel Kendra like a devil on my shoulder, dancing a little jig. DESTROY HIM. DISEMBOWEL HIM. STOP AT NOTHING.
I point to Sawyer’s shirt and the bold white letters that spell captain on the front. “I hardly think this is fair. You started at Alabama all four years.”
His cocky grin is panty-melting. “I think we need every advantage we can get against this team, don’t you think? Plus I know two of their guys played for A&M.”
“Well good thing you called in the big guns,” I tease with an eye roll.
“There’s time to take a few practice swings if you want,” he offers.
I scoff. “I’d rather not try to fight the inevitable. Where am I in the lineup? It’s not too late to put me in as ump. In fact, if you slip me a twenty, I’ll make sure y’all win.”
He smirks. “You’re last, but only because I wasn’t sure you’d make it to the field on time since you were a late addition.”
“Last is where I belong,” I assure him. “And stick me in the outfield.”
This turns out to be a horrible place to put me because when Cedar Valley manages to get a hit off Sawyer, they whack it in my direction every time. Charlotte and I are running around like chickens with our heads cut off. A ball flies over my head. Another nearly clips my ear. I yelp. I leap. If I run up on a ball,it inevitably sails over my head. I’m utterly useless. A scarecrow could do my job, and probably more effectively.
Sawyer’s the one who secures all three outs for us in the first inning, and then it’s the bottom of the first and I’m dragging myself into the dugout. Everyone else looks fresh as daisies, meanwhile, I’m sweating through my tank top. My blonde hair is matted to my forehead. Plus, stupid me, I forgot to bring water.
Sawyer shoves his Yeti into my hand. “There’s Gatorade in it.”