Third Base (The Boys of Summer Book 1)(10)
GOSSIP WIRE:
This year is shaping up to be entertaining and this section might become my favorite part! I, the BoRe Blogger, often receive tips about the players. Some pan out to be juicy details and others fizzle. Last night’s tweet from a patron at the Tasty Burger, in particular, turned out to be a gem.
Yesterday during the game, fans were shocked and some elated to watch Davenport openly flirt with a Renegade fan. I suppose we should be happy that she is a fan of our beloved Boston team and not the Yankees where our wonderful General Manager, Ryan Stone, joined us from. Davenport gave this fan the first foul ball of the game – is there a significance? I’m not sure.
What I am sure about is this: Davenport asked an usher to retrieve the fan and have her meet him somewhere… the wives club maybe? From there we know, thanks to the Tasty Burger’s customer, that they went to dinner. Now, I don’t know about you, but I’m thinking Ethan Davenport can afford someplace better...but that’s just me.
I, of course, asked Davenport for a comment, but all I got was, “Call my agent.” My sources tell me that Davenport’s newest conquest left the stadium with him well after eleven wearing his team sweatshirt. Now if that doesn’t say “hook-up” or, at the very least, mean there’s some kind of romance going on...I don’t know what does.
The BoRe Blogger
One thing I learned last night about Daisy is that she’s stubborn. When we arrived at the train station, I asked for her number. She actually balked until I reminded her that we were supposed to be having breakfast in the morning. When she tried to tell me breakfast wasn’t necessary, I told her she could either let me take her or I could make sure she gets every foul ball I catch so everyone could see her face on the Jumbo Tron. Once she realized that I wasn’t giving up, she finally relented and gave me her number.
Now I’m sitting outside the restaurant she chose, waiting for her to get here. We’re close to Boston University and it never occurred to me to find out what Daisy does. I guess I assumed she works but now that I think about it, I’ve seen her at afternoon games before. So unless she has a flexible work schedule, she’s most likely a student.
I pull out my phone and scroll through my notifications. My Twitter is going crazy with the new BoRe Blogger post that went live at five a.m. I’d really like to find this guy and pound his face into the bricks along the Freedom Trail. He doesn’t know jack shit about me, yet he runs his mouth behind the cloak of the internet, never showing his face or telling us his identity. In my book that’s a coward. The shit he wrote about last night makes my time with Daisy feel cheapened. If I didn’t think he’d misconstrue my words, I’d give him the interview he so desperately wants… all we need is a dark alley with no witnesses.
I spot Daisy walking down the street and take a moment to watch her. She’s focused on her phone and is wearing her ear buds, making herself completely oblivious to her surroundings. I have the sudden urge to yell at her and show her how much danger she’s putting herself in right now, but also to protect her by making sure she’s being driven from her house to every single destination she needs to get to.
Thinking like that is only going to get me in trouble. I doubt Daisy wants me as a knight in shining armor. Her shoulder bag is in the same spot as yesterday but this time she’s carrying another bag and I’m really hoping it’s not my sweatshirt. There’s a part of me that doesn’t want it back, that wants to see her in it again, but getting a fine for not having my uniform isn’t really my cup of tea.
When she’s closer, I get out of my SUV and wait for her at the rear of it. I rest against the back with my hands in my pockets. As she steps into the parking lot, she looks up. Even from this distance I can see her smile. I have no choice but to return one as well. It’s automatic whether I want to or not.
“Good morning,” I say, reaching out and moving a windblown piece of hair away from her face. I know I’ve caught her off guard when her lips part. Hell, I’ve caught myself off guard, but it feels good to touch her. I wish we had shared a kiss last night because the urge to kiss her now is at the forefront of my thoughts. I’d give anything to be able to cup her delicate face in my hands and to press my lips against hers.
“Sorry, I’m late. I missed my train.”
“It’s okay. You know I could’ve come to pick you up.”
She looks away, fumbling with her phone. “It doesn’t look busy; we should be able to get a table right away.”
She deflects my statement about picking her up. Maybe that’s a hint, and I shouldn’t ask about anything that has to do with where she lives. Either that or I’m being friend-zoned. I’ve never been friend-zoned before, and not sure I’m going to like it here.
Daisy pushes the bag in her hand toward me. “Your sweatshirt,” she explains.
“Thanks.” I take the bag and push off my car so I can put it in the backseat. My luggage for our six-day road trip is in back and ready to be transported by Renegades staff. The timing really can’t be any worse, especially when I’m trying to get to know someone. Not that any time between February and October will ever be convenient. I get the impression that Daisy is different from the others. It’s hard to put my finger on why. Maybe it’s the thrill or the fact that she doesn’t give a rat’s ass about who I am.