Page 90 of Praising the Pitcher

She wears a Carhartt beanie pulled down, and her dark hair flows in curls over her shoulders. She’s edgy some days, just straight of adorable the next. With her, I never know what style I’m going to get, but no matter if she was wearing pigtails or looking like she was about to rob the place, she’s the cutest person ever. Inside and out.

“Thanks,” I say with a smile, but quickly, I sigh. “I’m going to be another hour I’d say, putting all these books back.” I nod toward the massive stack of paperbacks, though I’m being dramatic because honestly, I don’t mind not being able to go home yet. Well, for the most part. I would like to see my hot boyfriend though.

And even six weeks later, my heart still skips a beat when I take the time to think about the fact Noah King is my boyfriend.

“Holy shit,” she utters. “I’d say.” She shrugs. “I would love to stay and help, but I sort of have a prior engagement.” She blows a piece of hair away from her face when she grumbles. “One I wish I could get out of, badly.”

“It’s no big deal.” I wave her off. “You know I work best when it’s quiet anyway.”

“Indeed, I do.” She nods. “I get it. When I’m hacking someone’s computer, I like peace and quiet too.”

My mouth hangs open before snapping shut.

“Remind me never to piss you off,” I mutter under my breath before I grab a few books from the pile.

Lilly had a rough childhood, and though she has stability now, being adopted by Paige and Kolt Kolburne, I sometimes wonder if her running journey began because of her childhood. Maybe she got good at running because she was always having to run away from something. Or someone …

Then again, for me, pitching became my outlet. It became a place early in life where I could tune everything else out.

“All right, catch you at home,” Lilly calls from behind me, her keys jingling in her hand.

I wasn’t lying when I told her I work better alone. When we get talking, it’s hard to pay attention to what I’m supposed to be doing. And being the perfectionist I am, I really, really hate not doing things flawlessly.

Lilly got me this job in the first place. Just after Christmas, she and I were out on a run, and I was venting that I needed a job but was afraid nothing would work out with my crazy softball training schedule. Lucky for me, she was already working at the library and pulled some strings. But whereas she works on the computer side of things, making sure all the technology runs smoothly while also helping out with the camera system, I basically just organize books.

And I love it.

Before the door opens, her voice floats across the room.

“Looks like you’ve got company,” she calls, having to raise her voice since she’s all the way at the front of the library.

She turns toward me, and I gaze her way to find a smirk on her lips.

“Still think you work better alone?”

My eyes dart past her to find Noah standing by the door waving at me like a moron.

My moron.

But movement behind him has a grin landing on my face now, especially since Lilly is still looking at me and hasn’t noticed that she, too, has a visitor.

“Is that why you had to run out of here so fast?” I tilt my chin toward the window. “And here I thought you were ditching my large stack of books for something like homework or practice …”

Her head swivels, and instantly, her shoulders tense.

“What is he doing here?” she grumbles, her eyes landing on none other than Jameson, also known as her brother Hendrix’s best friend and the campus flirt.

He makes Noah’s wild days look tame …

His blond hair is messy yet perfectly styled, like he ran his hand through and it automatically fell that way. He’s been coming around a bit lately, and here I wondered why.

I guess now I know.

“You going to let us in or what?” Noah yells against the door before Jameson says something behind him, but the door between us makes it too muffled to make out.

Groaning, Lilly takes one more step toward the door before she pulls it open. Noah strolls inside, but Jameson simply leans lazily against the doorway, as if waiting for her.

She throws her head back and sighs before slinging her tote bag higher on her shoulder. “Lock the door behind me, King,” she utters before making her way outside but stopping, kicking her foot up against the door and looking at me over her shoulder. “Oh, shit, I almost forgot. Can you turn the cameras back on when you leave, Geeg? I had to reboot them earlier, but they were still screwed up, so I’m trying to reset.”