What the hell am I doing?
I sit across from Corbin at a table in front of a large window that overlooks the field. The players are so far away I can barely make out their names on the back of their jerseys or see the ball which makes it difficult to follow the game.
Not that it would be possible anyway while having dinner with Corbin, quite possibly the most attractive man I’ve ever seen. Or at least the only man to get me all hot and bothered.
Although my shyness and fear of rejection kept me from interacting with most men, a part of me also feared how I’d respond if I even managed to snag a guy’s interest. I’ve kept myself distant for so long, and my imagination’s built up a dream guy impossible to attain. What if I wasn’t physically attracted to the kind of guy that wanted me?
Not a problem with Corbin. No, his kiss had set me ablaze even as doubts tried to push to the forefront. My mind couldn’t figure out his intentions. Why was he being so nice to me? Kissing me?
Surely, this goes beyond a baseball team owner’s job description. Which brought up another concern. A rich, handsome, single man wanted me? Darcy Evans? Twenty-nine-year-old virgin with curves to spare?
The math didn’t make sense. And I should know; research and numbers made up the majority of my days.
“Is something wrong? Like I said, I can have something else brought up,” Corbin says, eyeing my untouched plate.
“No, this is fine; thank you.” I take a bite of the chicken fajita I’d made. He’d ordered way too much food for just the two of us, and even if I’d decided to eat normally, I wouldn’t have made a dent. As it stood, I limited my portion to a handful of tortilla chips with guacamole and salsa along with two fajitas on the small round tortillas.
He didn’t seem like the men who’d called me names, but I wasn’t about to prove them right in front of Corbin by stuffing my face.
As if reading my mind, he asks, “Are you sure you have enough? No need to be shy. I like a woman who can eat.” He flashes a teasing grin, and I smile weakly back.
He says it like it’s true. But doubt cuts through me. Lowering one hand, I tug at the tee around my stomach, making sure it’s not conforming to the roundness, before taking another bite of dinner and shaking my head. “I’m good; thanks.”
“You don’t have to keep thanking me, you know. I’m happy to feed you...and clothe you, too, I guess.” A short laugh comes from him. “But that last part doesn’t sound right.”
I return a genuine smile this time. “Yeah, not really. But I appreciate the sentiment. I just want you to know that I’m grateful for all you’ve done for me tonight.”
Like a knight in shining armor, he swept in and carried me off to safety. Too bad I’m the pumpkin—not Cinderella—and my time’s almost up. Corbin may be kind tonight; he may want to kiss the damsel he saved.
But come tomorrow, I'll be forgotten.
Hell, if he walked me back to my seat and saw Bethany, I’d be history before they even said, “Hello”.
“I’m just glad I was there. I like to sit in different spots of the stadium to stay on top of the inner workings. Any other night and I would’ve missed you.” He frowns as if the realization doesn’t sit well. Or it’s the Mexican food he’s downing like he hasn’t had a meal in ages.
“Luck was with us, I suppose.”
“Or fate.”
“Aren’t they one and the same?” I take a sip of water, curious about his answer.
“Not necessarily. Luck is good things happening to you, but fate says they were meant to.” Warm brown eyes search mine after the explanation, but I’m at a loss for words. He can’t be saying what I think he’s saying...Right?
That somehow we’re meant to be?
My gaze traces the strong line of his shadowed jaw down over his broad shoulders, and I can’t imagine this man could be meant for me. It would never work.
I’d be uncomfortable all the time, feeling guilty for reading instead of working out with him—something I already felt with Bethany. They’d be perfect together. Beautiful, healthy and going on all the cute couples adventures I see on Instagram.
“That’s a lot of credit to give the universe or whatever. But I don’t think I believe in all of that,” I say before finishing my last chip on my plate. Checking my phone, I see multiple messages from Bethany and the scoreboard across the field shows we’re in the top of the ninth leading the opposing team by three. “Looks like it’s time for me to go; the game’s almost over. And thank you for the meal. It was delicious.”
I worry he’s going to come up with another excuse for me to stay, but he tosses his napkin down and nods. Disappointment curls around my heart. Oh, please...What did you expect? Him to lock you away with him?
The idea sent a shiver of anticipation straight to my core, and I made a note to lay off the dark romance novels for a bit. Because I should not be getting turned on by the thought of a man holding me against my will.
It doesn’t take long to get back to my seat, and I gird myself for Corbin’s reaction when he sees Bethany.
“There you are! Some staff member told me what happened. Are you okay?” Bethany jumps from her seat to hug me before her eyes drift over to Corbin, and she flashes him a flirty smile.
“Hi, I’m Bethany. I take it you’re the guy that helped our poor Darcy?” I wince at the description and stand awkwardly between them. The aisle is narrow, not meant to accommodate people standing and chatting, but Bethany doesn’t seem to care.
Corbin dips his head in assent and asks, “Before I leave, can I get your number and maybe your last name?”
“Pretty bold of you considering we just met, but I like a man who knows what he wants. It’s 910 ﹘”
“I meant Darcy.” Corbin’s gaze bores into mine, and I feel like I’m on display again as the people seated in front of us turn to see what’s happening. Perplexed by his request and eager to get out of here, I rattle off my number.
“Thanks; I’ll call you later.” And with those parting words, he jogs back up the stairs and out of my life despite his promise.
“Okay, so when he calls, tell him that I’m out for a run with my friend, Chris, but I’ll return his call when I’m free,” Bethany says as we take our seats.
My brows knit in confusion. Didn’t she hear me give him my number? “Why would he ask about you?” The question feels rude, but I’m not understanding her train of thought here.
Bethany’s head tilts as she raises a hand to explain as if I’m a five-year-old. “He’s playing hard to get. Ignoring me and asking for my friend’s number in an attempt to pique my interest. Then he’ll hit you up for more information, and that’s when you’ll let him know that I can play the game, too.” She smirks as if any of that makes sense to me.
But I suppose she would know better, since she regularly goes on dates with men while I stay at home reading about fictional ones. Maybe she has a point. I figured once Corbin met Bethany it would be game over for me anyway. The fact that she thinks he’ll call when I don’t probably means she’s right.
“Sounds fun,” I mutter, watching as the last batter is thrown out at first base. Finally. “I’ll let you know what he says.”
Then cry about giving my first kiss to a man who wants my roommate.