"I need your number," I told her.

"What?" she said through an incredulous laugh.

"I need your number because I need to take you out." I tried my panty-dropping smile on her.

"Um, no." She turned around to open her car door.

"What?" I asked, disbelief laced in my tone.

"No," she repeated.

"Why not?" I was pissed off. "I'm just asking for your number."

She turned to face me, huffing out a breath.

"No, asshole." She rolled her eyes. "You weren't asking for my number. You were demanding it." She eyed my up and down. "Who are you anyway?"

"Logan Matthews," I put my hand out to shake hers.

She looked down at it, shook her head, laughed once, and then looked back up at me.

"Definitely no."

"What? Why? Give me one good reason," I spat out. I didn't know why it was getting to me, her not wanting me. But I was pissed off and I felt like I needed to win that argument, or whatever the fuck it was that was going on there.

"Because."

"That's not a reason."

"Because I have a boyfriend."

"No you don't." I shook my head and crossed my arms over my chest.

"Because you're an asshole."

"Valid, but not accepted. Next?"

"Because I like girls."

I eyed her up and down and licked my lips, "Even better."

She took a deep breath in and sighed out loud. "Fine." Her hand was out waiting, so I gave her my phone.

A huge shit-eating grin took over my face, because I just fucking won, and I couldn't wait to make her pay for it. She handed it back and rushed to get in her car. I watched her as she drove away.

Amanda.

Once she was gone, I looked down at my phone. The notes app was open:

In your dreams, asshole. Find another way to score your home run.

THREE

-Present-

We were three weeks away from the first game of the season and I was trying to get my classes sorted before baseball consumed all my free time. Baseball—it wasn't a big deal for me. I wasn't the best catcher on the team. I definitely wouldn't be starting. I walked onto the team by default because Jake and I were best friends and we played high school ball together for three years. They assumed we had a special connection on the field or some shit—some sort of secret communication. The thing is, Jake Andrews is that fucking good he could pitch to a brick wall and still be a big deal. I stayed on the team because it helped clear my head and gave me a good work out schedule. It's not my passion and it's definitely not my career.

***

I was about to walk out of the library when I saw Micky, Lucy and a third girl. I did a double take because there was no way in hell it could be her. "Luce! Micky!"

I got scolded to shut up.

I didn't care.

They both turned around immediately.

And so did she.

Amanda.

Holy shit.

My steps faltered as I got closer.

I couldn't seem to take my eyes off her. She looked the same, but different? Fuck, I don't know. Her eyes widened as she saw me walking towards them, but they quickly averted to the to the floor. I waited until I was right in front of them before speaking. "Hey," I said to all of them, but I couldn't tear my eyes off Amanda.

"Dude," Micky laughed, her finger clicking in front of my face. It snapped me out of dazed state. When I finally peeled my eyes off Amanda and looked at Micky, she was smirking at me.

Lucy started giggling. "What are you doing?" she asked, trying to hide her own smirk. My eyes darted to Amanda, but she was still looking at the ground, playing with the straps of her backpack.

"Nothing, just had some shit to do. What are you lovely ladies doing?"

I don't think I realized that I hadn't taken my eyes off her, because Micky was laughing and waving her hand in front of my face again. I slapped them away and glared at her. She stopped laughing, smiled, and then nudged Amanda with her elbow. "Amanda," Micky said. She finally looked up. “Have you met Logan?" she continued with a shit-eating grin on her face.

My palms began to sweat; my thumb cracked the fingers on each hand. My pulse echoed in my ears. I could see Lucy's confused expression from the corner of my eye, but I couldn't take my fucking eyes off Amanda. My hands went in my front pockets while I waited for her reaction. I needed her to say something—anything. To tell me that she remembered me. But when she finally looked up, there was nothing.

"Nope. Never." She faked looking at her watch. "I gotta go. My rides coming and he's in a hurry, I'll see you girls later," she said quickly, and then walked away.

"We got book club on Tuesday. Don't forget," Lucy called after her.

She raised her hand in acknowledgement.

I let go of the breath I didn't know I was holding.

Lucy put her arm through mine as we walked out and towards the parking lot. "Logan, don't tell me you've slept with her, too. She's one of the good ones," she whined.

"What? No. I haven't. Swear it."

"Good." She laughed.

I put my arms around both their shoulders. "So what's this about a book club? You girls sit around, reading dirty books, fanning each other's vaginas? Because if so, count me in!"

"Ew!" Lucy yelped the same time Micky backhanded my stomach.