Chapter Eighteen
Devon left around nine the night before. Baseball curfew was a bitch. We’d spent the rest of our evening together making out and talking. I floated through my morning classes, catching glances from him before one of his friends distracted him.
By the time I got to Ethics, I was a ball of nervous energy. It was the only class where we sat by each other and had time to talk. Unfortunately, he showed up late so we had to wait until after class to even say hi.
Prof. Farmer dismissed class with the usual instructions to read or study or prepare for an upcoming test and to check our companies for assigned ethical dilemmas. For once in my academic career, I wasn’t really listening. I sat frozen, waiting for Devon to make a move. The rest of the class hurried out, leaving us completely alone. I stared at the podium.
“Miss me?” he asked.
I grabbed his face, turning it toward me, and kissed him so he wouldn’t forget it anytime soon. “What does that tell you?”
Devon smiled. “That tells me that I should skip practice and take you back to my room.”
“But you’re not skipping practice and I have to get to JenCar.” For good measure, I kissed him again. “Even if your room sounds like more fun.”
Devon laughed. “At least let me buy you lunch before you jet off to the big bad corporate world.”
“Deal.”
We walked out of the auditorium side by side. When we stepped into the cool air, Devon took my hand.
“Is this too much PDA for you?” he asked when I tensed.
“No, this is fine.” It was intimate, comforting without being possessive or showy. “Just don’t ask for any lap dances in the student union.”
“Got it. No lap dances in public.” He tightened his arm and tugged me against his side. In a loud whisper, he asked, “But in private’s okay, right?”
I laughed and pulled his arm so his ear was close to my mouth. “If you play your cards right.”
“Oh, I will. You can bet on that.”
“Let’s stop with the betting. We’ve done that enough.”
“I only bet on a sure thing,” Devon said. “What’s going on with us, that’s a sure thing.”
I rolled my eyes, but that didn’t stop the smile from exploding across my lips.
“So I’ve been thinking about what you said, about not wanting to rush into this, and I realized something very important.” He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye. “We need to go on an official date.”
That surprised me and I stopped in my tracks. “Really? I hadn’t thought about that.”
Devon turned to face me, taking my other hand in his. “I figured if we’re going to do this slow, we’re also going to do it right. So, how about it, Olivia? Will you go on a date with me?”
“I’d love to,” I said. Despite my discomfort with PDA, I raised onto my toes and kissed him quickly. Devon grinned and turned us back toward the student union.
“Friday good?” Devon nodded at a group of guys as they passed us.
“No can do. I usually work Friday nights. And Saturday nights. And the Sunday lunch rush. My weekends are pretty packed. Next weekend I’m heading home for my little brother’s birthday.” Come to think of it, everything was so busy. I worried when having an actual date might be feasible. “What about Thursday?”
“Practice.” Devon leaned down and kissed my temple. “We’ll figure it out. We just need to get our schedules to each other. You can take time off? To come to a game?”
“Yeah, I’m sure I can. Logan’s not a complete ass.” The thought of losing tips made me nervous. “But you do have day games? Normally I work the evening shift.”
Devon rubbed his eyes with his free hand. “This won’t be easy. Between our internships, your job, my team, it’s going to be hard to get together.”
“Maybe.” I stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. “But anything worth having is worth fighting for, isn’t it?”
Devon’s smile could’ve melted the remaining snow on campus. “Definitely.”
“What?” I asked when he just stood there staring at me with that same goofy grin.
“I’m going to kiss you. Now.”
He bent his head and did just as he said. It was the sweetest, sexiest kiss. Despite my anti-PDA rules, I really didn’t care if anyone saw us.
We made it to the student union and through the food court. He insisted on buying. His plate was piled high with two double cheeseburgers, French fries, and corn. An All-American lunch. I’d filled mine with lettuce, tomato, cucumber, onions, sunflower seeds, and a drizzle of Italian dressing. We sat away from the rest of his team, despite a few guys yelling for Devon to join them. He nodded toward them and ushered me in the opposite direction.
“They’ll play twenty questions with you and all of them will be sexual in nature.” Devon opened his two burgers, moving the patties all under one bun in to a quadruple burger.
“And you don’t think I can handle that?” I asked as I tossed my salad together.
Devon laughed before biting into his burger. After he’d finished, he said, “I’m sure you could rip each of them apart with a few words, but neither one of us wants to deal with them in all their asshole glory. And I want you to myself for a while.”
“Seamus, you know how to say all the right things,” I teased.
“I love it when you call me by my first name,” he said with a heated gaze. He closed his eyes and shook his head. When he opened them, the heat was gone but something else was in its place. “Can I ask you something? About…Henry?” His eyes darkened at the sound of my ex’s name. I nodded, and prayed it wasn’t too intimate of a question. “Why would your father hire him?”
I really didn’t want to have this conversation with Devon, but he wasn’t going to let it go and he needed to know that Henry would always be a part of my life. “After Henry left Westland, he went back to Kerns. My father hired him to help with the books while Henry finished his degree online.” I took a bite of my salad, savoring the veggies. “My father loves Henry like another son. He…” I didn’t want to replay Christmas Eve, but I needed Devon to know the truth. “Dad invited Henry over for Christmas Eve. And he’ll probably continue to do so.”
“Wait a second, your father invited your ex-boyfriend—”
“And his pregnant fiancée.”
Devon’s eyes widened. “And his fiancée over for your family’s Christmas? That’s not awkward at all.”
I snorted. Devon didn’t flinch if he saw me. “It was. I didn’t know about her at all. Nobody had bothered to tell me.”
“What the hell? That’s not cool.” Devon finished his burger and moved onto his fries. “It had to have bothered you.”
“It did. At first, but not anymore. Dad swore he mentioned Amanda to me, but he hadn’t said a word. I think he was trying to spare my feelings, but he wasn’t thinking when he invited them over.” I sipped my water, searching my mind to change the subject. “So baseball?”
“What about it?” He nibbled on a fry.
“Why baseball?” I knew he was good, he’d told me as much. What I didn’t know was why he played.
“Baseball’s all about math,” he said, his eyes lighting up. “The trajectory of the ball, the angle of the mound, the speed of the bat. It’s basic physics really. Each problem has a different solution. When a guy comes to the plate, I have to figure out what pitch to throw, how fast, and where based on what I know about him from Hummel’s scouting report. McElroy, our backstop, helps guide me. But it’s not so simple. Maybe the guy’s got a better swing on balls to the inside of the plate. I have to make sure I hit my target on the outside. Maybe the guy’s great at hitting the curve, but my curve isn’t working that night. I have to figure out what pitch I can throw to get him out.”
“It’s a ball and a bat. How hard can it be?” I asked, not trying to sound bitchy but failing. “I mean, it’s just a game.”
“Have you ever watched a game?”
I shifted in my seat. He had a point. I’d been to a few of Jake’s games, but it was little league and I was always watching Bradley. “Not really.”
“Watch a game and you’ll see.” He leaned in. “You’ll see the math, the calculations, the instant problem solving. And you’ll be hooked.”
“Pretty sure of yourself, aren’t you?” I grinned as I refilled my fork with lettuce.
“Usually, but we think alike about a lot of things. Trust me on this.”
“No promises.” I flipped a cherry tomato toward him. “Tell me something uniquely Seamus about the game.”
‘Okay, my number is 52. I’ve worn it since little league.” He picked up the tomato and popped it in his mouth. “My uncle wore it when he pitched one game in Triple-A. That was the closest he ever got to the show. He was sent back to Double-A and never got called up again. So I wear it for him. He rarely misses a game, too.”
“That’s sweet.” I reached across the table and put my hand over his.
“He taught me how to pitch.” Devon smiled then glanced at his watch.
“What time is it?”
“Time to go. I’ve got practice and you have to get to work.” Devon bussed our table and walked out with me. “This was nice.”
“You mean actually hanging out like a couple? Yes, it was.” Devon took my hand again as we walked toward the fountain. He nodded in the direction of Donaldson Hall. “I’m going that way.”
“And I’m going the opposite.”
“I’ll call you later?” he asked, taking both my hands and bringing them to his chest.
I smiled and lifted onto my tiptoes to kiss him. “Yes, please.”
“This is gonna work,” he whispered.
Devon grinned and backed away from me toward Donaldson. When he finally turned, he took off in a run and pumped his fist in the air. I laughed as I headed toward my apartment. It absolutely was going to work. How long was the only question.