Mandy took me to a place called Taco Flats and we ordered enough tacos to feed at least half the baseball team. Even though her stomach had remained silent, the way we both attacked our food when it arrived revealed that she had just been as hungry as I was.

I felt a little bad skipping the rest of practice to hang out with Mandy, but I told myself that I could use this opportunity to get to know her better—and hopefully Nathan as well. If he wouldn’t open up to me, then maybe she would.

“How long have you known Nathan?” I asked as we started on our second round of tacos.

“Since freshman year,” she told me. “I was the sports photographer at my high school and started going to games to get shots to show the editor here. Took a while before they started using my work, but I had gotten to know the guys pretty well by then. Baseball is my favorite.”

“Mine too,” I confessed. “I used to watch MLB with my best friend from high school. He loved the Dodgers, but I’m loyal to my hometown. Astros all the way.”

Mandy laughed and pulled out a notebook that had an Astros sticker on it. “I had a feeling I liked you,” she said. “Even though baseball’s big here, I haven’t been able to find a lot of female friends that are obsessed with it like I am. I tend to spend most of my time with the team and the girls I meet usually just want me to introduce them to the guys. Which is fine,” she shrugged. “But not great for making friends.”

“I know what you mean,” I said. “My ex-boyfriend was in a band. Lots of girls wanted to hang just to get to his band mates. And him too, I guess.” I tried to smile and failed.

Mandy gave me a knowing look. “So how long have you been a member of the single-ladies-with-shitty-ex-boyfriends club?”

“As of last night,” I confessed.

“Ugh. Girl.” Mandy flagged down a waiter. “We need a couple strong margaritas,” she told him, before looking at me. “Right?”

I grinned. “Right.”

Two margaritas later I was outlining every single dirty detail of my six-month relationship with Nick.

“And he could never get it up!” I told her. “First three months? Great. Hot and heavy. Then he moves in with me and suddenly, pfft!” I threw up my hands. “Nothing! At first it was fine, you know, that happens, but then it just kept happening. So I suggested he stop smoking pot for a while. Or drinking. Or try something different, but noooooooo. He needed it for the music.” I sighed. “I guess I wasn’t as important as his drug use or his music career.”

Mandy nodded seriously, her slight drunkenness indicated by how heavily her head bobbed forward. “My last boyfriend was like that,” she said. “All that mattered was what he wanted. He didn’t care about my photographs or really anything at all.”

“Exactly!” I waved over the waiter, ordering us another round. “Exactly. Nick never cared about my job. He wasn’t even proud of me when I got this article.”

Mandy rolled her eyes.

“He doesn’t even watch sports,” I confessed. “I showed him the series I wrote for an online magazine, the one that got me the job at the Register, and he didn’t get it!”

“What was it about?” Mandy leaned forward, eagerly grabbing one of the margaritas that was set down between us.

I could feel myself on the verge of nerding out. I was really proud of that article and so far everyone I had told about it hadn’t been very impressed. But I could tell that Mandy would be on the same wavelength. “I put together a historical dream draft of current and former greats. I built teams and then every week I would write up articles about them playing each other as if I was watching it and reporting on it, including famous plays and record breaks and all that kind of stuff.”

Mandy was silent for a moment, her eyes wide. “Wow,” she said, and I found myself holding my breath, hoping she wouldn’t think I was a total loser. “That is AMAZING,” she finally responded, and I couldn’t stop the grin that spread over my lips.

“Thanks,” I told her.

She took another long drink of her margarita. “You should tell Nathan about that.”

I shook my head. “I’m not here to talk about me,” I said. “I’m here to talk about him.”

“He doesn’t like to talk about himself.”

“Why? Does he have something to hide?” I joked, but Mandy went silent. Oh no. Did he? I couldn’t imagine handsome, all-American Nathan with a deep, dark secret. I also realized I didn’t want to.

Mandy cleared her throat. “I just think you’ll have more luck talking to him about baseball than talking about him.” She waved for the check. “Probably time to head back to the field.”

We were both still drunk by the time the guys were finishing practice. Mandy hurried back to get something from the stands and I waited by the locker room exit, trying to stay steady on my feet. I was joined by a swarm of undergraduate fans, holding baseballs and other paraphernalia waiting for Nathan. I couldn’t blame them.

He really was an amazing player. I had seen videos of him, but nothing compared to watching it in person. Complete control of the ball, spinning each curveball with a graceful, yet wicked edge. And he was fast. Really fucking fast. There were a couple of times I had seen Chris, the catcher, wince after catching one of Nathan’s fastballs. It was magnificent. It wasn’t surprising that the majors wanted him now. Even though it was unusual for a college player to get recruited so immediately, I could tell that they were making the right choice. He was going to be a star. And if possible, I was going to help him become one.

He emerged from the locker room with Chris, Mandy’s crush, and the two of them were laughing and smiling. Even if I hadn’t been drunk, the sight of him might have made me dizzy. They both had that great athlete’s build, but Nathan was taller and leaner than Chris, who was stockier but just as handsome. Both of them had dark hair, but Chris’s was buzzed close to his head, while Nathan’s looked like it was due for a haircut, his wavy hair curling over his forehead. They both had just showered, and their skin glowed in the way that freshly washed skin did. It was damp against his neck. He looked fresh and clean and utterly gorgeous. Graciously, he signed all the items that his fans handed to him, keeping a smile on his face the entire time. He had such an amazing smile. Which completely disappeared the moment he saw me. He held up a hand as I walked towards him, making sure not to sway on my feet.

“I’m late. Can’t talk to you tonight,” he said. It was a lie. I could tell by the way his gaze shifted over to Chris and Chris’ eyes dropped to the ground. Neither of them wanted to talk to me. Dammit. Had I totally ruined my chances with him? Was I going to have to call the Register and tell them that the star of the story I was sent to interview refused to speak to me? Nope. Fuck that. I had worked for four years as a waitress, catering to customers who wanted grilled chicken without the grill lines on them and still managed to get a good tip at the end of the evening. I could get an interview out of one stubborn ballplayer.

“Then when can we set up our interview, Mr. Ryder?” I asked, flashing a smile. “I’m entirely flexible.”

Wrong wording, I realized as soon as it came out of my mouth. But it got him to look at me, that same hot flicker in his eyes that had been there that morning and last night. “I’m sure you are,” was what they said. But his lips remained tightly pressed and there was a slight tick in his clenched jaw. He sighed and took out his car keys.

“I would be happy to do the interview at whatever time would be best for you, Mr. Ryder,” I said again, trying my most winning grin on him, but he just sighed again.

“Call me Nathan,” he acquiesced, but I could tell he was still annoyed. Still, I would take my victories, no matter how small.

“OK, Nathan,” I said, widening my smile now that I had his attention. I was aiming for charming, but not flirtatious. Trustworthy. Honest. “How about tomorrow? You could give me that tour you promised.”

The frown deepened and I realized I had misjudged that statement. Not the best angle to work. I sobered up immediately.

“I promised that to a girl in a bar. Not a journalist.” He sounded like he was clenching his jaw. OK, so the smile and the angle wasn’t the way to work this. I needed to try something else and fast. But before I could tone it down, he was already walking past me towards his car.

A truck, of course. A big, “let-me-help-you-into-the-cab-by-putting-my-hand-on-your-butt-and-giving-you-a-lift” kind of truck. A boy car through and through. Shiny red and recently detailed.

“I promise, I can be both.” I tried to catch up, but he was already yanking his car door open.

He turned to me, baseball cap still pulled low. I saw a glimpse of his green eyes beneath the lip, but he was not making eye contact. “Last night was a mistake. And it’s better for both of us if we just forget it happened.”

“I didn’t mean to lead you on.” I hoped he could tell that I was being honest.

“Maybe one day I’ll believe that.” He got into his car.

“See you tomorrow!” I said, trying to sound upbeat even though I was kicking myself.

He clenched his jaw again and shut the door. There wasn’t much I could do as he pulled out of the parking lot, leaving me behind in a metaphoric cloud of smoke. So I just stood there, trying to figure out what my next move was going to be.

I heard a throat clear behind me and turned to find Chris standing by his own truck. It was parked next to a car that was more my style, a beat-up old Nissan that looked like it was on its last legs. It reminded me of my poor Honda Civic, currently sitting in the fancy hotel’s parking garage no doubt feeling terribly out of place. Kind of like its owner.

“Come back tomorrow,” Chris told me with a slow smile. From everything I had observed about him today—during the few moments I had torn my eyes away from Nathan—I had been able to gauge that he was a pretty decent player himself. Not necessarily MLB material, but he probably had a good shot at a career in the minors. He didn’t have the same intensity as Nathan, more of a slow-moving, take-it-as-it-comes approach. Not a bad way for a catcher to be. “Maybe he’ll be in a better mood then.”

“Thanks.” I walked over to him. “I’m Sophie.” I held out my hand, relieved when he took it.

“I’m Chris.” He gave me a once-over. Slowly. “You don’t seem like trouble.”

“Is that what Nathan called me?” Trouble was hardly the worst thing I had ever been called. But Nathan didn’t seem like he hated me, more that he didn’t trust me. And I couldn’t really blame him for that. “My intentions are pure.” I held up a hand. “I swear.”

“Well, your intentions might be pure.” Chris smiled. “But I don’t think it’s your intentions that are really bothering him.” He leaned forward, his expression just slightly conspiratorial. “We all saw you guys last night. He doesn’t hit on women in bars. Ever. I think he feels kind of stupid that you turned out to be a journalist.”

That explained why he was more annoyed than angry. And why he kept looking at me like he was imagining me naked. Not that the feeling wasn’t completely mutual. Inappropriate and distracting, but totally mutual. “I should have said something sooner,” I admitted.

“Probably would have turned out the same way,” he shrugged. “We know you’re legit. He’s just feeling kind of dumb about the whole thing. Don’t give up.” Chris smiled. He had a nice smile and seemed like a nice guy. Apparently all of them lived in Austin. It was no wonder that Mandy liked him.

“I would never,” I promised, and his smile grew bigger.

“Good to know.” He waved over my shoulder. I turned and saw Mandy heading into the parking lot, cradling her camera bag. “Guess I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” he said, but his eyes stayed on Mandy. It was like I wasn’t even there. Perfect, I thought. They both seemed to be interested, but they clearly needed a little nudge. Nudging was my specialty.

“That bag of hers looks like it’s on its last legs,” I said, noting that he not only had an expensive truck, but his clothes, though just jeans and a t-shirt, were clearly well-made. He was also wearing a pair of fancy sunglasses. He was the kind of guy I would have fought my fellow waitresses over. Moneyed, but clearly polite. A Texan boy, born and bred, the kind that talked slow, moved slow, and generally took his time enjoying life. You got good tips out of a guy like this. Now it was my opportunity to return the favor. “It really needs to be replaced.”

“Huh?” Chris finally looked back at me.

“Mandy’s camera bag,” I pointed out. “I know she just got that camera—bet she’s worried about her bag breaking open. She would probably be heartbroken if something happened to her equipment.”

“Yeah.” Chris looked thoughtful. It seemed like he was open to suggestion. Another good sign. “It does look like it’s falling apart.”

I leaned in a little closer, but not close enough that he or Mandy would think I was hitting on him. Just a friendly amount of leaning in. “Bet she’d be really grateful to get a new one. Don’t think they pay her at the school paper.”

I could see the pieces clicked in his head and he turned to me with a smile.

“You think she’d like a new bag?” His eagerness made it clear why Mandy was smitten with him. Was this whole team just made up of really nice guys? Obviously I needed to spend more time in Austin. Or near baseball players. Or just near one particular player who filled out his uniform like he was born into it. I realized I was getting off track.

“I think she’d like anything you gave her,” I said honestly. Clearly this guy had good intentions, but bad follow-through. Like most guys I knew. He just needed a push in the right direction. And that was something I could offer. “I can find out if there’s anything she’s got her eye on. If you’d like.”

“Really?” Chris’ eyes lit up. “That would be great. I’m not really good at that kind of stuff. Thank you.”

Just then, Mandy reached us, her own smile faltering a little bit. The air crackled with tension and it might have made me uncomfortable if I wasn’t so amused by how much they both liked each other and how little they had been able to do about it.

“Hey, Mandy.” Chris was suddenly shy. It was adorable.

“Hey, Chris.” Mandy, my little but fierce new friend, appeared to be feeling the same.

I stood between the two of them as they shuffled their feet, not really making eye contact.

“Good practice today.” I tried to help along the conversation. She had been so talkative in the taco place, it was funny to see her so quiet now.

“Yeah.” Mandy thankfully took the bait. “You looked good out there—I mean, uh, you guys looked good out there.” She was turning pink and looked at me with the universal “please help me” face.

“You got some good pictures, I thought.” I looked over at Chris. “She’s a really good photographer.”

“I’ve seen her pictures in the paper,” he agreed quickly. “They are really good.” He was so charmingly earnest. I mentally applauded Mandy for her good taste.

“You should show Chris some of your pictures some time,” I suggested.

“Oh, but he sees them in the paper,” Mandy responded, totally clueless, and Chris’ hopeful expression faded.

“Not all of them.” I wished I could kick her. “I bet he’d like to see your work. And you take pictures of other things, right?”

“I’d love to see your work,” Chris added immediately. Good boy, I thought.

“Oh, I don’t know—” Mandy began, but I looped my arm around her shoulders.

“You probably have to look through them first, right?” I tried to be gentle, encouraging. “But maybe you guys could get together after the practice tomorrow?”

“That would be great.” Chris’ smile was huge and charming.

“Great,” I answered since it seemed as though Mandy had lost her voice. She was standing there doing her best open-mouthed bass impression. “We’ll see you after practice tomorrow and you guys can go somewhere quiet and look at Mandy’s photos.”

“Great,” Chris responded happily.

“Great.” Mandy was still clearly in shock. It was so much easier to get other people together than it was to fix my own romantic issues. And currently, much more fun.

“OK then.” I realized that neither of them seemed to know how to exit this conversation. Could they be any more perfect for each other? “Well, we’ll see you tomorrow, Chris.”

“Great,” Chris said again and then seemed to realize that it was time for him to go. “Right,” he said. “Tomorrow. I’ll see you guys tomorrow.” His eyes darted down to the camera bag in Mandy’s arms. “I have to go run some errands anyway.”

“OK.” Mandy held her camera close. “See you tomorrow.”

“Bye,” I shooed Chris away. He got in his car with an obvious bounce in his step. I waved as he pulled out of the lot. He waved back.

I turned to find Mandy standing dumbstruck, one hand lifted in a wave.

“Don’t forget to shave your legs.” I gave her shoulder a nudge. “And wear cute underwear.”

“I’ve got a date with Chris tomorrow,” she said slowly. Her eyes were unfocused, her mouth slightly slack. “I’ve got a date with Chris tomorrow,” she repeated “Oh. My. God.”

“You do have cute underwear, right?” I asked her.

She finally seemed to notice I was there and let out a loud laugh. “You got Chris to ask me out on a date tomorrow night.”

“Technically you asked him out,” I reminded her. “And I didn’t get him to do anything. He likes you.”

“Wow.” She gently put her camera case in her backseat. “I’ve been trying to work up the courage to just figure out if he likes me and you get here and within a day I’ve got a date with him.” She blinked at me, awe in her eyes. “You’re amazing.”

“Not amazing,” I shrugged aside the praise modestly. “Just intuitive.” With other people, I added silently. When it comes to your own choices, you really need some work, Hall.

As if she was reading my mind, Mandy tilted her head and gave me a look. “Any luck with Nathan?”

I shrugged. “He’s still upset.”

Mandy nodded. “That makes a lot of sense. But don’t worry.” She patted my hand. “We’ll figure something out.” She got into her car. “Let me give you a ride.” I smiled, grateful for her help.

As we neared the hotel, she turned the radio down.

“You’ll be back tomorrow, right?”

“Of course.” I wasn’t leaving until I got my interview.

“Then I’ll see you tomorrow.” She smiled up at me. “And in case I didn’t say it already, thanks.”

I’d had Mandy drop me a short walk from the hotel. I needed to clear my head. The day had cooled off and the walk back to the hotel was just what I needed. It gave me a chance to admire how beautiful Austin was in the daytime. All the gorgeous old buildings, accented by huge lush trees everywhere. The whole place felt timeless and modern at once somehow, big skyscrapers peering out between columned hotels like the Driskill. I bet from above the whole city glittered.

As I walked, I started to feel better. There was a lake near the hotel, Lady Bird Lake, and I stopped there to watch people playing with their dogs and couples walking hand in hand. It was peaceful and I was feeling the same.

Sure, things with Nathan had started out rocky, but now I had match-made my way into two of his friends’ good graces. That could only help my situation. An extra bonus on top of the fact that I liked Chris and Mandy. I didn’t even know them that well, but I wanted both of them to be happy.

As far as my progress, I wasn’t quite where I would have been if last night hadn’t happened, but I was better than I had been when I woke up this morning. And I had time. If anyone was going to get a story out of Nathan Ryder, it was going to be me. And I wasn’t leaving Austin until I had it.