Page 10 of Nailed at Home Plate

“So, how’s your boyfriend fitting in?” Tiffiny clinked her beer bottle against mine to get my attention. She texted me earlier about needing to get out of the house for a change of scenery. As much as I needed the same thing, my thoughts were an overflowing jumbled mess of all sorts of things. Alcohol wasn’t exactly going to help, but having a friend nearby to distract me from said thoughts might.

“That man is the furthest thing from boyfriend material,” I grumbled as I tipped my bottle back for a hearty swig. “Be lucky you can’t meet your fantasy book men. You’ll only end up disappointed. Because Jamie is the biggest, most stubborn grump on planet Earth.”

“Jamie?” Tiffiny huffed, trying to find some common ground for my bitch fest. “What kind of fucking redneck ‘Backstreet Boys’ member dropout bullshit is that name anyway? What were his parents thinking?”

I rolled my eyes as my fingers danced over the condensation drips along the neck of my beer. This whole situation was shitty on so many levels.Especially the part where Jamie wasn’t anything like I imagined him to be in my late-night fantasies.

“I happen to like it.”

Tiffiny rolled her eyes. “Guys like him are the reason why I read to find men. No chance of running into afictionalman on the street.” A sad but dreamy sigh escaped my friend. “Unfortunately.”

“I’ll drink to that.” I sighed as our bottles clinked together before we sagged into our bar stools. Why was it so difficult to find a decent man in real life? Or at least a tolerable one. Was it too much to find a man who waslovinglyobsessed with their woman? Not in a creepy sort of stalker kind of way. Someone who was selfless and passionate in bed. Someone who thought about you even when you weren’t together, then came home toshowyou how much they missed you.

Tiffiny was right. Those sorts of men only existed in books. Existed in books written by women. Some men wrote romance and some of those said romances focused a hell of a lot on boobs bouncing boobily. Cheers to women who wrote the kind of men we needed.

Not that I was actively looking for anyone. I was more into the whole theory that the one who was meant for you would just fall into your lap one day. I wasn’t going to go out of my way to stalk dating sites or pick up random guys in bars. Nothing about wanting a man made methatdesperate. Okay, so maybeonething. But they had vibrating silicone stand-ins for that. Of which I had an entire drawer full of at home.

For the most part, I was content being by myself. I could watch what I wanted when I wanted. My freetime was spent doing things that made me happy or being in utter silence without a soul to bother me. Sure, it would maybe be fun to have someone over to do something a little different from time to time.

“We really picked the wrong career path for dating,” Tiffiny mumbled as she dove back into the loaded nachos we were sharing. It wasn’t the best choice for a dinner option, but it did carry all of the food groups. Plus, we needed to bury our stress and sorrows in some greasy food.

“Yeah, but who needs men when you’re surrounded by loud and obnoxious ones all day long? A daily reminder of just what we’re missing.”

“True. We get our fill during the season and then spend all winter recovering.” Tiffiny did a rather loud snort-laugh as she crunched down on an overloaded chip.

There was silence between the two of us as we ate. Something was bugging me about this sudden about-face in my personality with having the man of my dreams as part of my squad. I felt like all I did was yell at him.

He was trying my patience, whether it was on purpose or not. Maybe it was my protective instinct kicked into overdrive. I was uncomfortable around men I found attractive. I could only do the most awkward mating dance on the planet which included not being able to control the volume of my voice and overthought movements.

“You don’t think I’m being too hard on him, do you?”

“Pfft. No. Those majors boys are used to it.”

“It’s just that…it's fucking torture to have him staring back at me every day. I haven’t been able to look the man in the face, let alone have any semblance of a conversation with him. I feel like all I do is come across as pissed off.”

Tiffiny burst out laughing with a mouthful of chips. At least she had the decency to cover her open mouth. But it did nothing to muffle her outright guffaw.

“Why? Are you constantly undressing him with your eyes?”

“You know, I’m not even going to dignify that with an answer.” The joke was on her. Jamiehadundressed in front of me, by accident, only yesterday. But that was because Topper had called me into his office for another Jamie update. Due to that visual, I had no cognitive function to give said report. “But no.”Technically.“It's like I’m under hottie overload if he comes within ten feet of me. It's like I forget how to be a civilized human being.”

“So…that’s a yes then?”

“Shut up.” I took a large swig of my beer in a vain attempt to ignore the flashback of the rather up-close and personal vision of a shirtless Jamie. It was an accident I swear. But there was no fucking way I was ever going to tell Tiffiny that little secret. I’d never hear the end of it.

“Come on, admit it.” I reluctantly glanced at her, growing more afraid by the second just what she wanted me to admit to. “You still want to jump Jamie’s hard…bat.”

The chip went down awkwardly in my swallow. Working with a man you’ve admired and fantasized over from afar wasn’t something I’d wish on my worst enemy. This first week with Jamie as part ofthe team had been the most stressful fucking week of my entire career with the Sillys. Hell, my entire adult life.

“He’s making it easier and easier for menotto think about it.” Which was technically true.

But also, a complete and utter lie.

I had to simultaneously be professional and also not lose my fangirl shit. Which, if I was being honest, my inner fangirl was still hanging on by a damn thread any time I managed to catch him without a scowl on his handsome face. But unfortunately, those times were few and far between.

The man was freaking gorgeous. Just being in his orbit was both heaven and hell on earth. The heavenly part was being able to see him daily and at such a close range that I could almost count each eyelash hair. The hell part was a tie between his icy attitude and the fact that I couldn’t talk to the man in a civilized manner. It's as if he made my brain short-circuit to the point thatmajor staff sergeant bitch Cadencecame through.

Jamie made my heart race and bile come to my throat. A normal person should be used to having a baseball god in their presence by now. But for some reason, my body still had this immediate flight or fight response to him.

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