Page 12 of Pitcher Perfect
“I see.” He tossed the remainder of the sandwich into his mouth, chewing briefly and swallowing the bite in an audible gulp. Briefly,verybriefly, her attention was drawn to the network of throat muscles that strained inside the raised collar of his fleece. Nice, but she wasn’t interested. “How did I make a joke out of you?”
Skylar blinked at him. “Are you serious?”
“Yes.” How galling that he appeared authentically puzzled. “I thought I was doing the opposite.”
“How?”
“I don’t know. By hyping you up.”
It took every ounce of her maturity not to mimic that dopey statement in his distinctive baritone. “I don’t need to be hyped up, you presumptuous dickwad. My arm does that for me.” She drummed the fingers of her right hand in the crook of her left elbow. “I was there to pitch. I should have been treated like any other pitcher. Did you stop to think how uncomfortable it wouldbe for a woman to be in the company of two dozen guys while being objectified so openly like that?”
Was it satisfying to watch her explanation sink in? Yes. It was.
Unfortunately, the way his skin drained of color, his eyes closing briefly, as if silently berating himself, was annoyingly... endearing? Perhaps that wasn’t the right word, but it was becoming steadily obvious that he hadn’tintendedto embarrass her. Or make her uncomfortable. Not that he got a free pass. He didn’t. “Wow. I’m sorry.” He balled up the foil in which his sandwich had come wrapped, bouncing it off his own forehead. “I didn’t think of it that way.”
“Whatever.” She uncrossed her arms, scooped up her mug of orange juice, and took a hearty gulp. “I already hated your guts by that point, anyway.”
“Because you overheard what I said when you arrived at the field?” He dropped his head back on a groan. “I knew it.”
“Why else would I have mouthed the words ‘fuck you’ before introductions were made?”
“I don’t know, I just figured you hate redheads.”
“I do. But only when they’re named Robbie.”
“Very specific of you.”
“It’s who I am.”
“Tell me more about who you are.” When Skylar only rolled her eyes at him and pretended to stab herself in the neck with an invisible knife, Robbie swiped a hand through his mess of windblown hair, a tattoo peeking out from the sleeve of his fleece, which appeared to be the outline of an island. “All right, I can see I’m starting from a deficit with you. The first period hasn’t even started yet and I’m losing by five.”
“Eight.”
“Cool. Cool.” He spread his hands. “I like women. Women like me. Usually. I’m not going to apologize for that, but...the shit I was saying when you arrived at the field... I guess it sounds a lot worse in hindsight.”
Skylar was getting tired of scolding him like a cranky school principal. “I’m not here to lecture you about your treatment of women.” She gave him a bright smile. “You’re going to learn your lesson all on your own someday and that’s good enough for me.”
Robbie shivered. “You’re kind of dark, Rocket, you know that?”
“Pretty standard for a cannibal.”
He huffed a laugh, shook his head. “Damn. I would give my left—”
“Slow down. Think about your words.”
“Arm.I was going to say arm. I would give it up to rewind this morning and start over.” Gingerly, he touched his damaged eye. “It still would have ended in a brawl, but maybe if I had done things differently, you’d be giving me a legitimate shot right now.”
“Probably not.”
“Why?” He seemed genuinely curious. “Just because I punched your brother?”
An amused sound snuck out against her will. “You know, that usually does put a damper on a courtship, but no.”
Skylar opened her mouth to continue and somehow,unbelievably, her deepest, longest kept secret almost came flying out. Why? Why tothisguy, especially? Maybe because her nonrelationship with Madden had been at the forefront of her mind all morning? Or because this conversation felt weirdly personal and reflective even though she’d only met this man a few hours ago?
More astute than she’d given him credit for, Robbie leaned in. “What were you going to say?”
“Literally nothing.”
