I couldn’t ignore the thrill I felt in hearing that. Not that it was important. He didn’t really need to like me, he needed to respect me. Trust me. “But will he let me interview him?” I asked. I had to stay focused. His fond feelings towards me weren’t what mattered at the end of the day. Getting the story was what mattered.
Mandy shrugged. “That depends. What are you hoping to find here? A scandal? Some deep, dark secret to reveal to the world? Because there’s none of that where Nathan is concerned. He’s a nice guy. A really good guy.”
“That’s what I want to write about,” I said. And it was true. I wasn’t the paparazzi, I was a serious journalist. “I think he’s a nice guy too. And that’s what I want to show the rest of the world.” Or just people who read the Register.
Mandy looked at me and I couldn’t tell if she believed me.
“I swear,” I raised my hand solemnly. “I swear on my computer. The one I earned by working the closing shift for almost six months.”
She smiled at that. “Well, if you swear on your computer.” She quirked an eyebrow in the direction of the field. “I’ll see what I can do.”
Before I could thank her, though, my stomach let out a horrifyingly loud growl. “Sorry,” I said, slapping a hand over my tummy. “I skipped breakfast.”
Mandy looked at her phone. “And lunch too,” she pointed out. It was well past two.
“No wonder.” Suddenly all I could think about was food. I needed to eat something or I would die. I glanced over at her. “I don’t suppose you could join me for a late lunch?” I asked. “Tell me more about the team. And Nathan?” I added hopefully.
She smiled. “How do you feel about tacos?”
Chapter Five
Mandy took me to a place called Taco Flats and we ordered enough tacos to feed at least half the baseball team. Even though her stomach had remained silent, the way we both attacked our food when it arrived revealed that she had just been as hungry as I was.
I felt a little bad skipping the rest of practice to hang out with Mandy, but I told myself that I could use this opportunity to get to know her better—and hopefully Nathan as well. If he wouldn’t open up to me, then maybe she would.
“How long have you known Nathan?” I asked as we started on our second round of tacos.
“Since freshman year,” she told me. “I was the sports photographer at my high school and started going to games to get shots to show the editor here. Took a while before they started using my work, but I had gotten to know the guys pretty well by then. Baseball is my favorite.”
“Mine too,” I confessed. “I used to watch MLB with my best friend from high school. He loved the Dodgers¸ but I’m loyal to my hometown. Astros all the way.”
Mandy laughed and pulled out a notebook that had an Astros sticker on it. “I had a feeling I liked you,” she said. “Even though baseball’s big here, I haven’t been able to find a lot of female friends that are obsessed with it like I am. I tend to spend most of my time with the team and the girls I meet usually just want me to introduce them to the guys. Which is fine,” she shrugged. “But not great for making friends.”
“I know what you mean,” I said. “My ex-boyfriend was in a band. Lots of girls wanted to hang just to get to his band mates. And him too, I guess.” I tried to smile and failed.
Mandy gave me a knowing look. “So how long have you been a member of the single-ladies-with-shitty-ex-boyfriends club?”
“As of last night,” I confessed.
“Ugh. Girl.” Mandy flagged down a waiter. “We need a couple strong margaritas,” she told him, before looking at me. “Right?”
I grinned. “Right.”
Two margaritas later I was outlining every single dirty detail of my six-month relationship with Nick.
“And he could never get it up!” I told her. “First three months? Great. Hot and heavy. Then he moves in with me and suddenly, pfft!” I threw up my hands. “Nothing! At first it was fine, you know, that happens, but then it just kept happening. So I suggested he stop smoking pot for a while. Or drinking. Or try something different, but noooooooo. He needed it for the music.” I sighed. “I guess I wasn’t as important as his drug use or his music career.”
Mandy nodded seriously, her slight drunkenness indicated by how heavily her head bobbed forward. “My last boyfriend was like that,” she said. “All that mattered was what he wanted. He didn’t care about my photographs or really anything at all.”
“Exactly!” I waved over the waiter, ordering us another round. “Exactly. Nick never cared about my job. He wasn’t even proud of me when I got this article.”
Mandy rolled her eyes.
“He doesn’t even watch sports,” I confessed. “I showed him the series I wrote for an online magazine, the one that got me the job at the Register, and he didn’t get it!”
“What was it about?” Mandy leaned forward, eagerly grabbing one of the margaritas that was set down between us.
I could feel myself on the verge of nerding out. I was really proud of that article and so far everyone I had told about it hadn’t been very impressed. But I could tell that Mandy would be on the same wavelength. “I put together a historical dream draft of current and former greats. I built teams and then every week I would write up articles about them playing each other as if I was watching it and reporting on it, including famous plays and record breaks and all that kind of stuff.”
Mandy was silent for a moment, her eyes wide. “Wow,” she said, and I found myself holding my breath, hoping she wouldn’t think I was a total loser. “That is AMAZING,” she finally responded, and I couldn’t stop the grin that spread over my lips.
“Thanks,” I told her.
She took another long drink of her margarita. “You should tell Nathan about that.”
I shook my head. “I’m not here to talk about me,” I said. “I’m here to talk about him.”
“He doesn’t like to talk about himself.”
“Why? Does he have something to hide?” I joked, but Mandy went silent. Oh no. Did he? I couldn’t imagine handsome, all-American Nathan with a deep, dark secret. I also realized I didn’t want to.
Mandy cleared her throat. “I just think you’ll have more luck talking to him about baseball than talking about him.” She waved for the check. “Probably time to head back to the field.”
We were both still drunk by the time the guys were finishing practice. Mandy hurried back to get something from the stands and I waited by the locker room exit, trying to stay steady on my feet. I was joined by a swarm of undergraduate fans, holding baseballs and other paraphernalia waiting for Nathan. I couldn’t blame them.
He really was an amazing player. I had seen videos of him, but nothing compared to watching it in person. Complete control of the ball, spinning each curveball with a graceful, yet wicked edge. And he was fast. Really fucking fast. There were a couple of times I had seen Chris, the catcher, wince after catching one of Nathan’s fastballs. It was magnificent. It wasn’t surprising that the majors wanted him now. Even though it was unusual for a college player to get recruited so immediately, I could tell that they were making the right choice. He was going to be a star. And if possible, I was going to help him become one.
He emerged from the locker room with Chris, Mandy’s crush, and the two of them were laughing and smiling. Even if I hadn’t been drunk, the sight of him might have made me dizzy. They both had that great athlete’s build, but Nathan was taller and leaner than Chris, who was stockier but just as handsome. Both of them had dark hair, but Chris’s was buzzed close to his head, while Nathan’s looked like it was due for a haircut, his wavy hair curling over his forehead. They both had just showered, and their skin glowed in the way that freshly washed skin did. It was damp against his neck. He looked fresh and clean and utterly gorgeous. Graciously, he signed all the items that his fans handed to him, keeping a smile on his face the entire time. He had such an amazing smile. Which completely disappeared the moment he saw me. He held up a hand as I walked towards him, making sure not to sway on my feet.