Page 12 of Baseball and Shifters

“Here’s a list of acceptable attire and rules you will be expected to know and follow starting next class. I do not tolerate goofingoff. This is a serious class and you will behave as such.” Her eyes scan the room before landing on Mr. Tall, dark and way too handsome. “You, Mr…”

“Rana, Bastian Rana, but you can just call me Bas or Bastian,” he offers her with a devilish grin.

The way she smiles at him irks my fox. Not that we have any right to take issue with it. I don’t know what the hell is going on with her but maybe I need to make some time to let her run.

“Can you please pass these around to the rest of the students Mr. Rana?” she asks and passes him the stack of papers before continuing to address the class. “I believe everyone should know at least basic self-defense, especially women, who we all know are most often targets.”

She has a point there. Maybe I should be thankful they assigned me this class.

“Ahem,” a masculine cough draws my attention and I startle to find Bastian hovering next to me.

“Your paper?” he arches a perfectly sculpted brow as he holds out a piece of paper.

“Right. Sorry,” I mutter as I snatch it from his hand.

His nostrils flare and he tilts his head, studying me.

“After you receive your syllabus and class expectations packet, you can go. Please have appropriate clothes when you arrive on Thursday,” Professor Rains says from the front of the room.

His strong brow furrows as he continues to stare at me with those gorgeous eyes. They’re strangely beautiful, green in the center, rimmed in an amazing golden brown. I shove out of my seat, needing to get as far away from Bastian as possible. Something about him has butterflies taking flight in my stomach. I’ve never felt like this before and I don’t think I like it. As I rush to the door, I hear Trent’s distinct laugh.

“You’ll have to wait in line, Cap. I saw her first. I’ll let you know when I’m done with her.”

What a pig.

I slam the door open and flee the room. I could swear I hear a menacing growl as I leave.

Bastian

Ican’t wait to get back to Self-Defense to see my Firefly. She’s been on my mind since I saw her on Tuesday. Liam and I were almost the last ones to arrive at Professor Stone’s English class yesterday and as such there were no open seats anywhere near the shy nymph that had drawn all of my attention. Then when we got to Professor Goldman’s math class after lunch it was almost as if Liam was avoiding her as much as she was avoiding me. In short, I hadn’t had a single opportunity to talk to her, and it was starting to drive my inner beast mad.

That all changes today though, I will get her to talk to me. It is imperative I find out as soon as possible why she is denying our bond. My tiger is sure of it and I’m inclined to trust him because when I first got a whiff of her scent it reminded me of running through the woods back home and my tiger roared a definitiveMINEthrough my mind. When I make it into the Self-Defense room, I draw up short.

Gone is the typical classroom from yesterday and in its place is a large open gym complete with padded floors and a variety of practice dummies. I scan the room before my eyes narrow in on my Firefly across the room. Her thick black hair is pulled up in a high ponytail. Her exposed neck is dying to be kissed. She’s breathtaking even being fully covered from her collar bone to her toes. I’m not sure why she wears gloves all the time but I am happy to see she’s traded out her usual ones for some full coverage sparring gloves.

I linger in the doorway longer than intended just admiring her from afar. She’s shorter than me only by half a foot or so and she has curves in all the right places. Her skin is light bronze, like she just got back from a beach vacation, even in early spring. When one of the girls she’s standing with makes her smile, my heart stutters. Never in my life have I seen a smile like that before. I finally understand what people mean when they say someone lights up a room and suddenly the urge to go to her is overwhelming. As I stride across the gym floor with a single purpose in mind I’m caught off guard when a hand whips out grabbing ahold of my bicep.

“Hey Cap! I thought I already told you, I called dibs on that one.” Trent’s smirk makes anger ripple under my skin.

“And I thought I told you not to fucking talk about her like that,” I growl at him yanking my arm from his grasp.

Professor Rains enters the room, breaking the tense moment and claps her hands drawing everyone’s attention.

“Alright everyone, nice to see that you all followed my instructions and came prepared for class today. Now find the person closest and pair up to start stretches. When we are done with those we are going to work on some basic holds and escapes.”

I groan realizing who I’m getting paired with.

“Looks like it’s you and me, Cap,” Trent says, bumping my shoulder, obviously oblivious to the fact that mere moments ago I was debating on how to best rip his throat out.

Once again I lose the opportunity to talk to my firefly as we work through the instructed stretches and techniques. When we are dismissed for the day my girl makes like her namesake and disappears out of sight faster than I can track. One blink and she’s gone. Again. The only trace left behind is the echo of her laugh and the faint pull in my chest.

I try to find her in the crowded corridor and fail. Sighing I sling my bag over my shoulder and make my way to the stadium for practice.

The last practice before our first game is brutal. You’d think after a month of intense all-day everyday training, Coach would give us a break. Hell, I guess he did. Since classes started, we’ve dropped to two practices a week on top of our conditioning. It’s like he thinks giving us the day off yesterday made us soft.

After our usual stretches, we split into groups. The outfielders head further out to the open grassy area and work on their throwing while the infielders run bases. As captain, I lead my group through the bases, my tiger begging to be let free as I haul ass around the diamond. My foot hits the bag at home and Derrick claps my shoulder.

“Not bad, Cap. Looking to break a record? Slow it down a little, you’re making the rest of us look bad.”

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