Chapter 3 : Up to Bat

*Jane*

“You look perfect,” Rachel says, wringing her hands together like a proud mother. I take a look in the mirror and have to admit that the outfit I picked out does look good. I’ve chosen a pale pink sweater that’s tucked into a mini skirt and finished it off with a pair of complementary booties. Rachel let me borrow one of her necklaces and curled my hair so that it falls in soft loose spirals around my shoulders.

The whole thing draws attention to my best features—my legs and my collarbone.

“How are you feeling?” she asks, going to take a seat on my bed.

“Nervous,” I confess, my hands going straight to the hem of my sweater to fight with non-existent creases.

“Just breathe. It’s just a regular date and there’s really no reason to be anxious.”

Just then, a knock sounds at our door and Rachel jumps from her perch, clapping her hands in excitement. I roll my eyes at the huge grin on her face.

“What happened to this being just a 'regular date', Rach?” I ask, adding air quotes to the end of the sentence.

Rachel shrugs. “It is. A regular date that deserves all the hype and excitement I’m apparently feeling enough for the both of us.”

I shake my head at her before heading over to open the door.

“Hey, Jane.”

Seeing Noah standing there nearly knocks the breath from me. He’s wearing a simple white T under a fatigue jacket and well-fitting jeans that just about show the outline of his leg muscles.

His dark hair is handsomely tousled and his blue eyes are bright.

“Hey,” I answer, trying to regain my composure.

He looks so damn good that, for a second, I worry that I’m actually drooling.

I’m just hoping he hasn’t noticed my obvious reaction to seeing him when I realize that he’s looking at me too, his eyes particularly drawn to my exposed legs.

I feel my cheeks heat up and I silently celebrate the obvious good choice of clothing. His staring doesn’t have the same effect on me that other guys leering at me usually does, as though I was a piece of meat they were sizing up for carving.

But there’s something about the soft way Noah looks at me that makes it feel more like appreciation. Like he’s observing something worthy of stopping everything else to see. I don’t know if it’s because I find myself attracted to him, but I like having him look at me like that.

A small smile nestles in the corner of his mouth and when he finally manages to drag his gaze back to my face, I feel heat pooling in my stomach as I meet that gaze with my own.

“You look beautiful,” he says, and once again I feel like I could drown in the richness of his voice.

“She does, right?” Rachel calls over from behind me. As the spell breaks, I turn around with a pinched expression to glare at her. She lifts one shoulder. “What? You do.”

“Do you mind?” I ask, but Noah laughs.

“Listen, your friend’s absolutely right. Don’t be too hard on her.”

“He’s smart too,” Rachel says.

I resist the urge to slap my hand across my face. “Good to know. Unless you’re planning on joining us, I think we should probably get going now.”

Noah nods and steps back, holding out his arm for me to slip mine into. His bicep is solid against me and I’m reminded again that he’s a fantastic baseball player. Just as I’m closing the door behind us, Rachel yells once more.

“Have fun, kids!”

I groan and give Noah an apologetic look, but he seems amused, not annoyed in the slightest.

“What’s up with your friend?” he asks as we begin to leave the dorm heading to the parking area.

The night air is cool, the breeze feels amazing on my face, and the simmering buzz of the roaming students around us elicits the wonder I’ve felt few times being here.

“She’s … very enthusiastic about being a supportive friend,” I tell him.

He chuckles. “I guess everyone could do with a friend like that.”

As we walk, I notice that several students either stare at us or stop to clap him on the shoulder and talk for a bit. More than one mentions being excited about “the big game”, and while he’s friendly with them, Noah never continues those interactions for too long before turning his attention back to me and moving us along.

“I’m going to be honest, I had no idea you were this big baseball superstar,” I confess, embarrassed, and Noah looks down at me with a grin.

“Now that’s one hell of a title. I wouldn’t exactly call myself that.”

I give him a look. “Oh, please. You’re getting the full celebrity treatment. You’re definitely just playing modest right now.”

“No, trust me. I can’t exactly control how other people treat me, but there’s really nothing special about me. I just do what I do. All I really care about is the game itself. All that other stuff around it is just noise.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Well, whatever it is that you do clearly amazes lots of people.”

“Do you know much about baseball?” he asks me, and I almost cringe.

“No, unfortunately not. I’ve never been much of a sports person,” I admit sheepishly.

He shrugs his broad shoulders. “That’s fine, it’s not everybody's thing.”

“I’d like to learn more about it though,” I add quickly.

And it’s true. I know it probably sounds like I’m trying to suck up and earn brownie points with him, but that’s not the case. It’s true that I haven’t had much interest in sports, let alone baseball. But something in his humility despite his obviously impressive reputation with the school makes me want to learn more about this thing that makes him who he is.

As though he can tell my request is genuine, his smile widens, his eyes sparkling.

“Sure. I can explain the basics.”

I return his smile, but it immediately drops off my face when we reach his car. My mouth falls open in surprise.

“Everything ok?” he asks, and I nod my head.

Noah’s car is a sleek-looking alpine white BMW. I don’t know much about the models or makes of cars, but I know when one is fancy and high-priced. It’s difficult not to betray my shock.

“So, is this yours or your family’s money?” I blurt out, only after realizing that it may not have been the best thing to say.

Lucky for me, he seems to find my reaction funny and laughs. “My family’s.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever even been in a car this expensive,” I say, slowly following him to the passenger side. He opens the door for me and I look at him, unsure.

But he smiles reassuringly at me, and I slide inside. It smells like his cologne, with a faint trace of whatever products he uses to clean the interior lingering beneath.

“Well, now you get to drive in one,” he replies before shutting the door on my side and getting behind the wheel.

It takes us a while to reach our destination, but the trip there is so much fun that I don’t really pay too much attention to the time. We make casual conversation, but when I try asking him about his family, he noticeably tenses up. That little sign of discomfort is enough for me to drop the subject.

The second I do, he relaxes, and even though I decide not to push the topic, I do make a mental note that there must be more to that story.

When we do finally arrive, I’m surprised to see that the burger place he’d been raving about is little more than a hole-in-the-wall fast food joint.

The contrast between the car and the location is jarring, but it actually puts me more at ease knowing that we’re going to be eating somewhere more down-to-earth and, well, normal. We go inside and it’s not super busy, though there are still quite a few patrons there that seem to recognize Noah.

“I know it doesn’t look like much, but I promise the food’s fantastic.” He leads me to a booth before sliding in the opposite seat.

“Trust me, I’d much prefer this over something fancier,” I tell him honestly. “Plus, you know it’s a thing where people say the more humble the restaurant, the better the food.”

“Ha. I guess we’ll be putting that theory to the test pretty soon,” he says with one of his now-signature smirks.

An older waitress who very clearly knows Noah saunters over to us and takes our order. I let Noah decide what to get us and I watch their interaction with intrigue. The woman is very polite to me, but she treats Noah more like a friend or even family rather than just a customer.

If I had to guess, I’d put it down to his warmth. With the way he’s treated everyone we’ve come across tonight, I’m not surprised that he’s so well-liked beyond just being popular because of his sport.

After our order’s been taken and the waitress scuttles off, Noah turns back to me.

“I can definitely tell you come here pretty often given how friendly you are with the staff,” I comment, and he gives me a thoughtful look.

“I do tend to pick this place to grab lunch after most games. I don’t know, it’s oddly comforting,” he muses.

“I can tell why. It feels strangely nostalgic.” I look around at the bustling little restaurant. “And speaking of your games, I’d like to request my first lesson on the basics of baseball, please.”

He chuckles and begins to explain.

I’m listening, but only just.

His face changes when he begins to talk about baseball. When he really gets down into the details of a particular concept, his nose crinkles slightly in concentration, and it’s the most adorable thing I think I’ve ever seen. I can tell, just from watching his face light up that his sport means a lot to him, more than the observation alone can express.

He checks in periodically with me to make sure that I’m following or to ask if I understand or need more clarification, but he’s so eloquent that I hardly take him up on it.

“Well, now I’m pretty sure I could give you a run for your money at the plate,” I say. “I hope you’re happy that you’ve just primed your competition with all the insider secrets.”

He laughs and leans in closer, almost conspiratorially. “Any time, any day, Thomas. I’d love to see you try it.”

Before I can respond, our food arrives and it looks so good my mouth immediately begins to water. We thank the waitress before digging in, and I’m so enraptured in the perfection that is this burger that I don’t even realize Noah has paused, waiting for my reaction.

“Oh my God,” I mumble, closing my eyes.

Noah Baringer was definitely not lying about these burgers. If nothing else comes of this date, I at least know where to find the best ones I’ve ever had in my life. When I open my eyes, I see him grinning at me.

“Good, right?” he asks, finally tucking into his own.

“Amazing … Okay, okay, I concede. You were right, consider this educational experience successful.”

He pumps his fist in mock victory. “Told you I know what I’m talking about. Now, what was it you were saying about kicking my ass again? No chance I can bribe you to take it easy on me with more of these burgers, right?”

“No mercy. Like you said, just give me the time and place,” I joke.

“Is that so? I’d keep a backup career on retainer if I were you. What is it exactly that you’d be giving up in exchange for knocking me off my pedestal?” he teases.

I finish swallowing my first bite before I put the rest of my food down. Noah’s looking at me with expectant eyes, fully focused.

“I’m a business major. I want to be a business analyst.”

“What exactly do you do as a business analyst?”

When it’s my turn to explain about my aspirations and the details of what my dream job entails, I can tell that he’s actually listening. He doesn’t interrupt me except to ask the occasional question, and by the end of it, it’s his turn to look impressed.

He lets out a low whistle. “I’m not even going to pretend that I could compete with that. I’ll have to keep baseball for myself then.”

“Skill exchange. You taught me about basketball, I could teach you something.” Even though I hadn’t intended it to sound suggestive, heat flickers in his blue eyes. I feel myself blush in embarrassment.

“Wait, I didn’t mean for it to sound like that,” I almost stutter.

But he shakes his head playfully. He keeps his gaze steady on mine and I feel like I’m melting. “Trust me, Jane, I’m not opposed to letting you teach me anything you want to.”

My pulse begins to race at the tone of his voice, at the implication of his words. Desire hits me, raw, strong, and undeniable. I want nothing more than to follow through with it, to find out if his focus and attentiveness in both his sport and conversation comes through in the way he fucks.

But it’s not like me to want to jump into bed with someone on the first date.

It’s not that I have an issue with it due to any misplaced moral hangups. It’s just that it’s not something I’ve ever done before. I’ve only ever slept with one guy, a high school boyfriend who wasn’t exactly the best experience.

Granted, I don’t have anything to compare him to, but I know what feels good and what doesn’t, and nothing about his lack of sufficient foreplay and rushed thrusts did anything to convince me I liked sex.

But I knew from the way my friends spoke about some of their own experiences that it could be better. And now, I had the opportunity to discover that for myself. This was what Rachel meant by taking more risks, right?

When I take a bit to respond, Noah loses the smirk on his face and instead looks concerned.

“Jane, if you don’t want to do anything, we really don’t have to. There’s no pressure. I was happy just to see you tonight.”

That last bit of reassurance is what officially makes my decision for me.

I smile at him. “Let’s get out of here.”

He blinks in surprise. Then, that same sexy smile slowly returns to his face. “I have a place off campus if you’d want to go?”

The flurry of emotions I feel gives way to impulse and I nod.