“At least she hit something…” Cam whispers beside me and I roll my eyes as a look of amusement passes over Josh’s face.
“That bad, huh?” Josh teases.
“I am right here, you know,” I mumble as Cam pats me on the back and takes a swig of his beer.
“You have no idea. She hit the wall more than the actual board.”
Okay, so maybe he’s right, but that doesn’t mean I want everyone within earshot to know just how terrible I am. But I’m guessing since I threw a dart into someone, everyone knows just how terrible I am at this game.
“Can I buy you a drink?” I ask, hoping to get away from the topic of me stabbing him with a dart. Josh’s lips quirk, sending my libido spinning.
“Shouldn’t that be my line?” he whispers, getting close enough that his breath whips against my skin, and I audibly swallow the lump in my throat.
“I just thought since I impaled you, that you deserve some alcohol on me.”
He shows me that perfect smile, sending goose bumps across my skin.
“Come on,” he says, inclining his head and motioning me to follow.
“What about me?” Cam yells behind us.
Josh groans, then turns to look back at Cam. “There are a bunch of girls asking for you by the karaoke machine.”
His face lights up like a kid on Christmas morning and he happily makes his way across the room, leaving me and my “great ass” behind.
I turn just as Josh starts walking to the bar, and when we approach, I notice that Mel is still going strong with Mr. Tall, Dark and Handsome. She catches my eye and raises a brow. I shake my head as Josh taps the solid bar top, getting the bartender’s attention. He pulls my gaze away from Mel by ordering me another drink, while ordering himself a water. That surprises me. I expected him to get an actual drink since I’m buying.
“I’m Josh,” he says, turning toward me, his eyes traveling over me once again as I try and ignore the warm feeling that’s slamming into my chest.
“I know who you are,” I admit, trying to mask my self-annoyance at wanting to climb this man like a tree. I am not attracted to ballplayers. Nope. I made that vow long ago and I won’t let someone like Josh, who, granted looks good enough to eat, ruin that. He says nothing, his eyes boring into mine as if he’s baiting me to continue.
“You’re seriously going to make me do this?” Knowing he wants me to prove that I know how good he is, and that cocky smirk on his face makes me want to recite every major league stat I know on him and so I start. “You’re Josh Anderson, third baseman for the Hawks, but started your career in Florida.”
He nods his head slightly and motions for me to continue.
“You’re batting a solid .250 but you’ve dropped the last couple of weeks.” I give myself a high five when his eyes narrow at that last part. I didn’t have to say that he’s been sucking lately, that was just a dig for me alone. Clearly, he doesn’t like that he’s struggling and that makes me puff out my chest just a little bit more. “Your defense is always on point, a gold glove winner more than once if I remember correctly. Would you like me to keep going?”
He says nothing for a few seconds as I become hyperaware of his eyes on me.
“So, you’re a fan?” His voice lowers and I’m half expecting a smug look on his face, but what I get is apprehension.
Interesting.
“That’s what you got from that? You think I’m a cleat chaser?”
Confusion crosses his features as he leans his elbow against the bar and rests his chin in the palm of his hand.
“So, you’re not?” Just when I think I found a good one, he ends up just as egotistical as the rest.
“No,” I start. “I don’t recite baseball stats on demand for fun. I’m a baseball fan. I like the game, not the players. Not even when they look like you.” Shit. Why did I have to say that last part out loud?
“You like the way I look?” Those blue eyes darken, and my body responds accordingly.
“You’re not horrible to look at,” I admit and then quickly try and deflect my attraction to him by saying, “Would you like me to offer you Cam’s stats, just to prove I’m not lying?” I can’t help the edge in my voice. This isn’t the first time someone has questioned my ability, and yet it still bothers me just the same.
“No, I believe you.”
We lapse into silence, both drinking the last of our drinks. I take a second to look around the room and when my eyes land on Cam surrounded by a group of women, I smile because from the smile on his face I can tell he’s loving every second of it.
“So, baseball fan,” Josh says as my eyes swing back to meet his. “I never got your name.”
“That’s because I never offered it to you.” He laughs and I can’t help the curve in my own lips, so I sigh, giving in. “It’s Harper.”
“No last name?”
That’s when the panic starts to set in. My last name on others’ lips always fills me with dread. Will they realize who I am, who my father was? Will they demand to know all the details, even when I don’t know all of them myself? So, I tend to avoid it like the plague, like right now. I shake my head at his question, not wanting to go anywhere near that can of worms tonight. I have enough bad memories to deal with already. “I feel like I should know yours since you already know mine…” Smooth. I give him an A for effort.
“Well, to be fair, you wear yours on the back of
