Page 6 of Pitcher Perfect
Because God help everyone if her beautiful face caught one of those fists. He’d even let her punch him in the junk if it meant she stayed out of the fray. It would hurt, but he’d recover. Eventually.
As slyly as possible, Robbie reached through an opening among the group of baseball players and nudged Brown Eyes. “Psst.” He jerked his chin in the opposite direction of the brewing altercation. “Come on. Let’s go.”
What?she mouthed, incredulous.
“Move. Before you get hurt,” he whispered.
“I’ll hurtyou,” she whispered back, furiously.
From five yards away, she’d been interesting to look at. Obviously pretty.
Up close?
Her scowl made him wonder how much a bouquet of long stem roses cost.
“You wore Crocs to play baseball?” murmured the brunette while looking down at Robbie’s feet. “Are you serious?”
“When I want to play a real sport, sweetheart, I put on skates.”
“I could do a lot of interesting things with a blade right about now.”
“You’re kind of violent, aren’t you?”
She gave him another one of those evil smiles in response.
By insulting baseball, he’d probably just ruined his chances of taking this girl out, but he never backed down from a challenge. Hence this Saturday morning face-off that literally no one asked for.
“I wasn’t going to play,” Sig was saying in the middle of removing his jacket, which only meant one thing to Robbie. It was time to kick someone’s ass. “But the possibility of hitting you with a line drive between the eyes is too tempting.”
Elton scoffed. “My sister, Skylar, is pitching and she’s D1 all-American. You’re welcome to try.”
Sister.
Skylar.
She was the sister ofElton? The jackass Robbie had been feuding with?
They didn’t even appear to be related.
But clearly, they were, in some form or fashion.
Excellent.
His shot with Skylar was basically nonexistent now.
But as he watched the blush spread along her cheekbones, the way she ducked her head, as if shy about her brother’s open admiration, Robbie decided he was still going to try like hell. A Division 1 all-American pitcher who made fun of his shoes and implied she’d like to stab him with a hockey skate?
Hot. That was fucking hot.
Even hotter? When she stomped her way through the baseball players to reach her brother, slapping him in the chest with her glove. Hard. “Idiot. Can’t believe you pulled something like that,” she hissed, referring to the glaring reality that he’d brought Chloe to the field just to piss off the Bearcats.
Skylar hit Elton once more—Robbie almost swooned—before heading for the pitching mound and calling over her shoulder, “I’m telling Mom.”
Elton trailed after her. “You better not.”
Chapter Three
If only Redbeard would stop grinning at Skylar, she could enjoy pitching into the steady glove that belonged to Madden, the man of her dreams. Taking out the hockey player’s teeth with a line drive would be effective, too, but violence would probably only give the Bearcats what they wanted. Brawling was likely their comfort zone.
