Page 27 of Convincing the Catcher

“Well, when you say it that way, it sounds like I’m on the run.” I laugh, but I’m actually shocked. Just like I was shaken when whoever was bidding against Cane kept upping the price. I was worried that Cane would back out and decide he had spent too much money when I outbid everyone for him and he wouldn’t want to do it for me. Thankfully, he’s a man of his word and kept going until the other person stopped.

“Just so you know,” he drawls, “this means you owe me a date.”

“I think you owe me one too, Baseball Boy.” I cock my head to the side. “So, tell me, who goes first?”

“Coin flip for who gets to pick the first date?” He shrugs, reaching in his pocket.

“Deal,” I say just as he flips the coin into the air.

“Call it, Catch.”

“Heads,” I say, and seconds later, it lands on heads.

“Well, all right then.” He grins at me. “I’m ready for my date, Meadows.”

Even though I knew this was part of the plan tonight—to bid on each other—I didn’t actually think of what I would do after. I mean, I owe him a date. So, it should be a nice dinner or something. But what if … it’s not like that at all? What if, instead, we do something that’s actually fun?

“Well then, what are you waiting for? Let’s go,” I say, challenge in my voice, and before any of my friends can notice us leaving, we head for the door.

FIFTEEN

CANE

“If our coaches find out about this, I’m telling them it was your idea,” I say, zipping up the racing suit. “Because I’m pretty sure it says in our contracts that we can’t do shit like this.”

“Pfft. Cut it out,” she says, waving me off. “Haven and I come here all the time.” She wiggles her eyebrows. “We come for the go-karts and stay for the pizza.”

I look over at the slightly run-down kitchen with the very grungy man working in it. “The pizza here is … good?”

“Not really.” She shrugs. “But it’s not the worst. And I’ve never gotten food poisoning, so, like, there’s that.”

I bob my head up and down, pulling on my helmet. “No food poisoning. Definitely a selling point.”

“And when I win⁠—”

“If you win, Catch,” I cut her off. “If you win.”

“Whatever makes you feel like more of a man, big guy.” She winks, pulling her own helmet on. “Come on. Let’s see if you can keep up.”

When she walks in front of me, with her hair spilling out from under the helmet and the racing suit hugging her curves, my dick twitches … over and over again. Finally, I force my eyes to look somewhere, anywhere else.

Which leads me to give one last glance at the man at the pizza counter, and right away, no more dick twitching.

Mission accomplished.

Spinning to where Harley just walked off toward, I jog to catch up, and we make our way to the gate. This indoor go-kart track isn’t the sketchiest thing I’ve done, but it’s definitely not going to be the safest either.

“If you win, I’ll buy you shitty pizza from the guy who may or may not be scratching his ass before making them,” I drawl, smirking at her. “But if I win …”

“Go on,” she coos, and the only thing I can see in her helmet is her pretty green eyes.

“You have to dance with me,” I say before pointing my finger to the other side of the building, where there’s a secluded bar area and a band playing. “Over there.”

Her eyes narrow, and she cocks her head to the side.

“You seem to be a slow learner, Hale. Did I not say nothing romantic? And dancing in a nearly empty bar? That sure seems romantic.” She gazes over at where the band plays. “But you know what? You have yourself a deal.” She pats my abdomen with her now-gloved hand. “I never lose.”

“Well, I guess we’ll have to just see about that, won’t we, Catch?” I coo, knowing damn well that I’d drive the fucking wheels off this go-kart just to be able to dance with her, even though it would only make my growing obsession with her worse, being that close.