I reached out my hand, keeping my smile open and happy. I wasn’t going to reward Nathan’s brush-off with any kind of response. “Nice to meet you, Mandy. I’m—”
“Sophie Hall.” Mandy gave me a smile of her own. “Nathan has told me about you.”
“Great things, I’m sure,” I said, careful to hide my sarcasm in the cheery tone.
Because the stormy look on his face and the apprehensive one on hers told me that I probably didn’t want to know exactly what he had told her. I was close enough now that I could smell the same wonderful scent that he had been wearing last night. It didn’t have that chemical smell that aftershave usually did—was it possible Nathan just smelled that good all the time? I realized I was smelling him again and that my smile had gone slack.
I wasn’t the only one. Nathan was looking down at me, a slightly dumbstruck look on his face. The stormy look was gone and his attention was focused on my mouth, which I had always been told was one of my better features. Full and naturally red. Lush, an ex-boyfriend had called it. I remembered how he had looked at my mouth last night. How I had licked my lips and he had groaned. And even though I knew I shouldn’t, I slowly, carefully, bit my lip. I couldn’t help it.
His eyes went hot, just as they had done last night. And my knees went weak, just as they had done last night. I thought about kissing him, and I could tell from his expression that he was thinking the same.
Last night it had been the dress and my uninterested attitude. What was his excuse now? Today he knew the truth, knew who I was. I was standing in front of him, heart racing and mouthwatering, with the evidence of my drunken night written all over my puffy face, and he still was looking at me like he wanted to rip off all my clothes. And I was thinking I would be more than happy to let him.
Finally Mandy cleared her throat and we broke eye contact. I felt my face go red when I realized I had basically eye-fucked this guy in front of a near stranger, but Mandy didn’t look embarrassed, just amused. I liked her. Nathan, on the other hand, was now staunchly refusing to look at me.
“I’ll see you after practice,” he said to Mandy, those beautiful green eyes focused downward, his arms crossed over his chest.
“Is that when we’ll get a chance to talk?” I asked, trying my smile again. But he didn’t look up, instead pulling his cap down low and turning away. He stalked back across the field towards the rest of the players and I watched him go, enjoying the view.
“Don’t take it personally,” Mandy said. “He just doesn’t like journalists.”
“So I’ve heard,” I said, climbing into the bleachers and settling into the seat next to her. Glancing around, I noticed there were several people sprinkled throughout the stands, all watching the practice. Most of them were young women. I couldn’t blame them. Who in their right mind would say no to a show like this? Cute guys in tight pants? For free? God bless America, I thought. We totally picked the right pastime.
I looked over at Mandy and lowered my voice. Especially since a few of the girls were already looking in my direction and exchanging whispers. I wouldn’t be surprised if they had been present at the bar last night. No doubt they wouldn’t think too fondly of someone who had turned down their beloved star pitcher. And I couldn’t blame them.
“Would it help if I said I’m not a very good journalist?”
“Would that be the truth?” Mandy asked, raising an eyebrow. I liked her even more. Most of the girls that had hung around Nick had been idiots, or chosen to act that way. Smart girls were my cup of tea, and Mandy looked like she was better than your average smart girl. A cup of tea spiked with something good. Like tequila.
“No,” I said. “I’m a great journalist.”
She laughed. “Well, he certainly prefers, uh, journalists with confidence.”
“Does he?” I leaned in conspiratorially and saw some of the other girls behind us in the stands straining to do the same. “Tell me more about the kind of journalists he prefers.”
“Well.” She eyed the field, a playful twinkle in her eye. “I’ve seen him with brunette journalists in the past, though I’ve heard from some of the guys that it’s been a while since he’s had any good interviews.”
I grinned at the implication, but couldn’t help being surprised. I mean, just glancing around would show at least half a dozen girls who would be more than happy to show Nathan their, uh, press credentials. Surely a guy like him had no shortage of journalists looking to interview him in the most personal way. I could only imagine what I would do if I had his undivided attention. I would interview him all night long. Probably halfway into the morning as well. He looked like someone who was good with a long, hard line of questioning.
Goddamn my thoughts kept veering into extremely inappropriate territories. I blamed the baseball pants. They were too tight for their own good. Too tight for my own good, in fact. I wondered if there was somewhere nearby I could get a quick ice bath before I burned up thinking about Nathan’s butt. Instead I cleared my throat. “Good to know.”
“He also doesn’t like to be played.” Mandy was blunt, and this time she didn’t look at me. Instead she kept her eyes on the field and I followed her gaze. Nathan and the rest of the team were warming up. The rest of them looked fit and fantastic in their clean practice uniforms, each nicely shaped, from wide shoulders to tight buns, but I barely paid them any mind. All I could see was him. I had never really cared for guys in baseball hats, but it seemed that Nathan Ryder was singlehandedly reprogramming all my previously held preferences. Those preferences were gone. All I wanted was him. In that hat and nothing else, if I could swing it.
I smiled at my own little pun and then quickly shook my head. He was going to make me lose focus and I couldn’t allow that.
“I didn’t mean to play him,” I told Mandy, and I was telling the truth. “I didn’t know he was going to be at the bar. Besides,” I leaned back in the plastic stadium chair. “He approached me.”
“I know,” Mandy said, looking over at me with a smile. “I was there.”
I sat up. “You were?”
“Oh yeah,” she said, fiddling with the lens on her camera. It was a pretty fancy piece of equipment and she clearly knew how to handle it. “It’s the best bar in town. It’s where everyone goes.” She glanced behind us, and waved at some of the girls in the stands. “And I mean everyone.” She gave me a wink.
I scooted down in my seat, noticing some of the girls openly glaring at me. I probably owed every female in Austin an apology for my behavior last night. It was clear no one thought I was deserving of his attention, especially after I had rejected it. “So everyone saw what happened between us?” I vaguely remembered the table of guys in Longhorn hats, surrounded by tables of young women. Had Mandy been among them?
“Mmmhmm,” she said, lifting her camera and taking a few pictures as the players warmed up.
“I didn’t flirt with him,” I said and felt my face go red again. Nothing like having an audience while you embarrass yourself in front of Austin’s favorite ballplayer. Should have just stayed in your room last night, Hall, I thought to myself.
“Mmmhmm.” Mandy’s camera clicked and whirled with each shot she took.
“Well, I didn’t intend to flirt with him,” I said, though it was sounding a little pathetic, even to my own ears. Obviously I had enjoyed sitting at the bar with him, being on the receiving end of that smile of his. But who wouldn’t have wanted to be in my position? If I really thought about it, I had been totally helpless against his charms. It wasn’t my fault that he was so terribly good looking. I had just reacted the way any normal, red-blooded, straight (or bi-sexual) woman would have reacted.