The Relationship Pact(28)

“I know him,” she says simply.

“You like baseball?”

She sighs. “No. I know him. Personally. Well, sort of. My cousin Coy used to play baseball with Lincoln a long time ago. They were on the same high school team together and played ball all summer. I used to go watch with my aunt Siggy.”

“You know this guy? I mean, I know it’s a small world and all, but … really?”

She laughs. “It’s a small world, but it’s even smaller down here.” She studies me for a moment. “Where are you from, anyway? Your accent doesn’t scream Georgia.”

“I’m from Indiana. Land of corn and coal.”

“Sounds delightful,” she jokes.

I shift in my seat to face her. “So back to this you knowing Lincoln thing. You’re telling me that a girl I randomly met in a bar knows the professional baseball player I’m here to see. And that’s completely random?”

“Stranger things have happened.”

“I beg to differ,” I say, still unable to process this new information. “Anyway, are you ready to go in?”

She holds up a finger. “Before we do that, I have a question for you.”

“Shoot, Shooter.”

She makes a face but continues. “Why are you coming here? Not that it’s crazy or anything, just … random, as you say. I’m just curious. Humor me.”

There’s a right or wrong answer here. I can see it in the curiosity in her eyes and the way she nibbles on the end of her fingernail.

“Well,” I begin. “He has a Catching-A-Care program that … I don’t know what all it does, honestly. But there’s a banquet I have to go to next week here in Savannah, and he invited me for dinner tonight to get to know me or something.”

She closes her eyes and shakes her head. “Not what I mean. Who are you, Hollis? In adjectives.”

I glance quickly at the front of the house before looking at her again. She sits next to me with her eyes squeezed shut, and if I was a betting man, I’d swear she was whispering a prayer.

“Adjectives?” I sigh. “Okay. I’m a man. Handsome. Charming. Studly. Humble,” I add for good measure.

She opens her eyes long enough to give me a look of disapproval. The way her nose wrinkles up is adorable.

“I’m a student,” I tell her, pausing to see when she’ll have had enough. I’m also not sure if that’s an adjective, but whatever. She doesn’t stop me, so I continue. “Ferocious. A football player—”

“Ugh,” she groans immediately.

“What?”

“I knew it,” she moans, hitting the headrest with her ponytail.

I have no idea what’s happening here. I only know she’s slightly freaking me out.

“Larissa?”

“I should’ve known.” She looks at me, resolution in her eyes. “You’re an athlete.”

It’s more of an accusation than a statement, and I’m not sure what to do with that. I’ve been accused of many things in my life but never of being an athlete. It’s usually more of a positive connotation, a conversation starter.

“Yeah. That’s what I said,” I deadpan.

She smacks her lips together. “Everything is starting to make sense.”

“I’m glad it is for one of us.”

She glances toward the door and then back at me.

“It’s too late. We’re already here,” Larissa says.

“It’s too late for what?” I run a hand through my hair. “What are you even talking about?”

“It’s too late to have you take me back home.”

I flinch. “What? Why do you want to go home?”

“Because you play football.”

She scrunches up her face in a way that I think is supposed to express her dislike of my sporting habits but instead makes me laugh. This further annoys her.

“Let’s get this over with, shall we?” she asks as she grabs the door handle and steps outside.

I scramble to get out. Before I can get around the car, she’s already standing at the front.

I grin at her. “I need to know why me playing football is such a problem for you?”

“Just because.”

We start up the walkway to the house. Her arms are crossed over her chest, but I don’t get the feeling she’s mad at me. Just … at the football player in me.

I don’t know what to do, so I laugh.

She stops at the top of the stairs and sighs.

“Look, do you remember last night when I told you I had sworn off men right before I met you?” she asks.

I nod even though I don’t actually remember. I’m not about to fight Larissa on this. Not with her already riled up about something I don’t understand.

“Well, I didn’t swear off all men, Hollis. Just one specific little category of them.” She takes a deep breath. “Athletes. I promised myself I was not even entertaining the idea of being with an athlete in any way, shape, or form.”

She turns away from me and rings the doorbell.

I take a step forward and nudge her with my elbow. When she looks at me, I smirk.

“Does this mean you were entertaining the idea of entertaining me tonight?” I ask.