Third Base (The Boys of Summer Book 1)(7)
“No, Daisy. I’ll be right back.”
“Ethan, please.” The way my name rolls off her lips sends shock-waves right to my groin. I moan internally, trying to keep the thoughts of her spread out on my blue sheets, out of my mind. I have to tell myself she’s not a conquest, but someone I’ve been eye-flirting with.
“Okay, but breakfast is on me.”
She narrows her eyes as she lets go of my arm and I realize my blunder almost immediately. I didn’t mean it like that although I’m not opposed to taking her back to my place. However, the look on her face tells me she’s on lock down and I just blew any chance I had.
I decide to let her wait for our food while I gather the necessities and find us a spot in the back. This isn’t a big place by any means, but sitting in the back makes me feel a bit more comfortable. It means there are less people to walk by and ask me for an autograph.
My phone chimes and I pull it out to see my Twitter notifications going crazy. I don’t even want to know what they say, but my curiosity gets the best of me as it typically does each and every time.
Lisa @LisaBst – 3m
@TheRealEthanD is at Tasty Burger with a date!!
The amount of retweets and comments are ridiculous. I’m thankful there isn’t a picture of Daisy because I’ve already embarrassed her enough, but this is sure to make the BoRe’s blog report tomorrow. I don’t even want to imagine what the headline will be. This is the last thing I wanted, especially for Daisy, and can only hope she’s not following me on Twitter. Before I can even pocket my phone, the tweet from the BoRe blogger shows up.
BoRe Blogger @BoReRenBlog – 15sec
@TheRealEthanD care to offer a statement?
EDavenport @TheRealEthanD – 5 sec
@BoReRenBlog call my agent!
I pocket my phone when Daisy sets the tray down on the table. She sits across from me, but doesn’t look up to meet my eyes. I pick up a few fries and stuff them in my mouth.
“About my breakfast comment, I didn’t mean it like that.”
Daisy looks up and I can’t tell if I’m hurting her more or not. I shake my head and put my hands up.
“I’m going to blunt, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Here goes… I’ve been watching you for a while. You wear the same couple of outfits to every game. You have killer seats, but you always sit alone. I’ve seen you look at me and I’ve thought about talking to you many times. Today, I finally grew a set and asked you… sort of. My comment up there, you can take it either way because I’m game for both. I didn’t expect you to pay for my dinner so I owe you something in return. I said breakfast because it’s the next meal, unless you count ice cream, but it’s too damn cold for ice cream. If you want to think I’m asking you to come back to my place, you can think that too because I think you’re f*cking beautiful and I really want to get to know you better. And if we did that tonight, it’d lead, once again, to– the next meal of the day – breakfast.”
I say my peace and wait for some type of reaction. A slow smile starts to form and lights up her eyes and then she laughs, breaking any tension I’m feeling. My left hand starts to twitch so I slide it under my leg to keep her from seeing it. I pick at my food, waiting for her to say something, anything.
“I’ll have breakfast with you, but I’m not going back to your place.”
“Fair enough, we can go to yours.” I wink and get a fry in my face. She covers her mouth as she laughs and I want to reach over the table and pull her hand away. I want to see all of her face when she laughs. I want to hold her hand and see if I feel the same radiation of heat I did earlier.
“I can meet you someplace,” she says before slipping a fry between her lips. I try not to gawk, but it’s no use. Now that I have her up close, staring is the only thing I want to do.
“Or we can stay up all night and talk.”
“You have a game tomorrow. You need your sleep.” It’s in this moment that I’ve probably fallen in love with her and don’t even know it. The fact that she has so much concern for my well-being means so much to me.
“How long have you been a fan of baseball?” I reach across our small table and take one of her fries. She eyes me skeptically. I can’t tell if she’s about to slap me, or shove the rest of her fries into my face. Either way, I’ll take whatever she wants to dish out, because both actions constitute emotion and that would mean I’m getting to her.
“Still hungry?”
I want to respond with ‘duh’ but that seems very childish and inappropriate. I pull my hand back and wipe my fingers on my napkin. “Sorry,” I say and offer a sheepish shrug. “I’m used to finishing my niece’s food.”
“How old is she?”
“She’s three.”
“Does she live here?” Daisy pushes the rest of her fries toward me. She’s a woman after my own heart. Of course I dig right in and avoid the question. I hold my finger up while I chew and try to swallow without choking myself.
“She lives in Seattle with my sister and my parents.”
“Where’s her dad?”
I suck down the rest of my soda and fight the urge to burp. That would not make a very good first impression and I’m really trying to impress this girl. I should’ve paid more attention last year, but I was too wrapped up in being a rookie and being so stupid that I didn’t notice people around me.