Be My Game Changer: A Sports Romance(15)

“I’m sorry.” Avery glances down to the cup in her hand as she takes a sip.

“Never apologize to me,” I utter. I hate that everyone has always been so quick to placate and accommodate me. I just want them to call me on my shit, like the feisty part of Avery I’ve seen. “Unless it’s for sleeping through my game.”

Her posture relaxes and she rolls her eyes. “I tried, but those damn nineteen innings lasted forever.”

“At least you were able to finish your book.”

“Mm-hmm.” She smiles as a muffled snore comes from E.J.’s direction.

“Why were you at the game if you hate baseball so much?”

“Bodie guilted me into going. The plan was to spend some quality time together. And it was only supposed to be for a few innings which turned into the entire game and then all the fangirling afterwards. That’s when I kinda dozed off.”

“‘Quality time’? Reading and sleeping?” I’m teasing, but there’s one thing that I’m dead serious about. “Well, I owe Bodie one hell of a thank you for bringing you along.”

We’re both smiling, each of us in on the falling-asleep joke, but I watch the smile fall from her lips and hear her breath catch as her eyes dart down to my mouth. Intuitively, I lean in, and those strikingly mesmerizing dark-hazel eyes snap to mine. This is it. The moment where the ball is headed out of the park, over the left-field wall as she slightly leans towards me. When a gargled snore catches her attention, she quickly shifts away from me. Damn it. Strike.

“You should go,” she whispers, sliding her coffee away from her and picking up her pen.

“What time is it?” E.J. blurts, startling awake. Glancing around the empty classroom, he focuses on us sitting at the front of the room. “Oh, shit. I can’t be marked absent. I’ve missed too much school already.” The poor kid starts jamming his stuff into a backpack as Avery stands.

“It’s all right. I sent a note to Mrs. Smith letting her know that you were staying in my classroom.”

“She’s not gonna tell the office I skipped class, right?”

“No, you’re good, E.J. You can hang in here or head to her room if you want. There’s not much time left, though.”

Not much time left. That hits me funny. Why do I feel that deep down?

“I’ll hang here then.” E.J. focuses in on me, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he yawns. “Ms. W, you sure do visit a lot with someone you don’t know. Or did he shoot his shot and score?”

Oh, I dig this kid, even if he’s wrong.

“We’re not having this conversation,” Avery instructs him as he snickers.

“I meant to give this to you,” I reach into my wallet, pulling out one of the ridiculous business cards Joe had printed for me. And it’s the first one I’ve given out. Flipping it over, I gesture for Avery’s pen, jot down my cell number on the back, then walk over and hand it to E.J. “If you ever need anything, give me a call.”

“Are you legit?” E.J. asks, his eyes wide as he studies the card like it’s a magical key to a parallel universe.

“Yep. And I’d better not find this on the Internet, Ernest.”

“No chance. Unless you keep calling me that stupid name.”

I laugh and bite back the unusual urge to ruffle his hair. It would be weird to do—the kid’s way too old and I barely know him. But then again, he is still a kid. And I have a deep sense that he truly needs that kind of affection in his life. Weird. I dunno where the hell this is coming from, but I hope he’ll use the card if there is something more to him being off. “Let me know what game you want to attend.”

“Will do.” E.J stares at the card.

“Kid.” He looks up at me then. “You really can call me if you need anything. At all.”

“Thanks,” he says, avoiding my eyes suddenly. Then as the bell rings, he shouts an animated goodbye and heads out of Avery’s classroom.

“That’s more like his usual self.” Avery watches the doorway as a few students trickle into the room, a few quickly taking note of my presence. “Thanks for doing that for him.”

“It’s no problem.” I shift on my feet, shoving my hands in my pockets. All poise and class, Avery greets the students before looking back to me. Damn, I don’t know what’s past a goner but that’s the level I’m on.

Much like the awkward teenage boys filling the halls, I make the decision to just ask. Could go either way, but hormones and adrenaline leave me little choice but to take another swing. “Can I get your number?”

Her shoulders stiffen, and she glances around the room, I’d guess wondering if any students overheard. “I still don’t think it’s a good idea,” she murmurs quietly.

“Because of history, right?”

She only responds with a nod.

“I have no clue what that even means, Avery,” I reach into my wallet, pull out another card, and print my cell number on the back, then slide it across her desk because I don’t want to risk her not accepting it from me. “We’re on the road for the next week and a half, but you can still use this if you decide you need someone. Because I do know we can’t have a history if you won’t give us a chance.”

I don’t wait for a response. Instead, I wave at a few of the students who make eye contact and nod at me before making my way out into the hallway. Damn, she sure is stubborn. But my gut is pretty reliable, and it’s telling me there’s been some progress made by my impromptu visit today.