“That’s what I thought,” Hutton mutters just as the girls reach the table.
Without invitation, Scarlett takes a seat on Hutton’s lap and reaches out and grabs one of the strawberries on his plate and plops it in her mouth.
“Big daddy with the fruit hookup.” She holds one out to Indie. “Want one?”
Sitting in the chair next to me, she shakes her head. “I’m good.” She then pokes my arm. “Are you going to just sit there or are you going to say hi?”
I chuckle. “Just waiting for you to sit on my lap too.”
“In your dreams, Castle,” she shoots back with sass, then grabs my Powerade and takes a drink from it.
“Help yourself.”
“I will.” She winks.
“You haven’t kissed me yet,” Hutton says, squeezing Scarlett, who elbows him in the chest.
“Just because I’m sitting on your lap, eating your fruit, doesn’t mean I need to kiss you. This is a free country. We women don’t have to pay up anymore. We have rights and I’ll damn well take advantage of them.”
Oh shit, Hutton really has his hands full. I would not want to be in his shoes.
“You can’t use that ‘I have rights’ shit.”
“Didn’t seem to bother you the other night when I smacked your hand away from your cock and told you I had the right to suck your dick.”
“Oh-kay,” Indie says, jumping in—thank God. “Maybe not a conversation for public, you guys.”
“You don’t want me saying cock in the dining hall?” Scarlett asks with a grin.
“Not really,” Indie says and then nudges my arm nodding at my broccoli. “Done with that?”
Laughing, I nod. “Have at it, Mayhem.” She picks up my fork and helps herself.
I can feel Scarlett’s intense gaze on us, and I have a feeling that because she’s not allowed to talk about Hutton’s cock in the dining hall, she’s about to direct her attention to me and Indie.
“You know what Indie was boasting about last night?” Scarlett says. Yup, I was right.
“What’s that?”
“She couldn’t stop talking about how she’s a better athlete than you in all respects.”
“Is that so?” I ask Indie with a lift to my brow.
She finishes up her broccoli and says, “You already know this. Don’t act surprised.”
“I know you think that, but I wasn’t aware of you smack-talking.”
“It wasn’t smack-talking. It was laying out the evidence and being right.”
Chiming in, Hutton says, “You really think you’re more athletic than Castle? The dude is one of the top pitching prospects in the country.”
“Which is awesome, he knows how to throw a ball, but that doesn’t mean he’s more athletic. He’s already admitted to not being able to handle me on the soccer field. I know my feet are faster than his and my endurance is stronger. I’ve proven myself in air hockey and basketball—”
“Hey, I won our basketball competition.”
“Barely,” she scoffs. “And held my own in other challenges. When you weigh it all out, I’m clearly better.”
“And self-aware,” I add, taking my drink from her.
“You know, there’s only way to solve this,” Hutton says, hand on his chin. “You have to pitch to her. If she can hit off you, then that will solidify her theory.”
“Oh, I would love to see her hit off me,” I say on a laugh.
“Then let’s go.” She stands from the table. “Let’s go play some ball.”
“You’re serious?” I ask, challenging her.
She leans down, one hand on the back of my chair, the other on the table, her face inches from mine. “Dead serious.”
Oh.
It . . . is . . . on.
“Warmed up?” Asher asks, standing from a squatted position and lifting a catcher’s mask off his head.
I nod, rotating my arm a few times.
We ran into Asher in the stadium parking lot and when he asked what we were doing, I gave him a brief rundown, and the cocky grin I saw cross his mouth indicated he had to watch. Thankfully, he’s caught before, so he offered to sit behind the plate for me so Hutton didn’t have to.
“You’re up, Indie,” Asher calls out and then puts his mask back on.
We’re in the pitching cages, because Disik would kill us if we were on his field. I found a helmet and bat that would work for Indie and saddled her up. While I was warming up, she was hitting balls off the tee, and I was pretty impressed with her form.
She very well might be able to make contact.
“Pepps,” I call out and motion for Asher to come to the mound. He jogs up and just like in the games, I place my glove over my mouth as I talk quietly. “I’m going to lob some in there at first, and then pick up the pace, blow them by her.”
“Got it.”
We bump fists and he jogs back as Hutton holds up the netting and helps Indie inside.
She looks adorable in the helmet and seeing her stand in the batter’s box—ready to try and best me—it makes me want to run up to her and just fucking hug her. Hug her so damn hard.
“Ready, Mayhem?”
“Oh, I’m ready.” She taps the plate. “Bring it, Castle.”
“Hit him in the nuts,” Scarlett screams from behind the cages.
“Yeah, hit him in the nuts,” Hutton repeats.
“Dude,” I say, arms wide.
He shrugs. “Scar said she’d suck me off if I rooted for Indie. She gives good head.”
“Good head?” Scarlett asks, hands on her hips.
“Scratch that, fucking mind-blowing head.”
“Better.” Scarlett claps her hands. “Come on, right in the jewels, right in the jewels, Indie.”
Directing my attention to Indie, I say, “Please don’t hit me in the balls.”
“You nervous, Castle?” she asks, bat on her shoulder, determination in her stance. So irreverent. So fucking hot.
“No, just making a simple request, that’s all.”
“Enough with the chitchat,” Scarlett yells. “Let’s get this over with, as I have an orgasm to cash in on.”
That girl is something else.
“Good luck.” I nod at Indie and then get in position.
Like I said to Asher, I take it easy and lob one in. She connects with it, hitting it right back at me. It’s not a hard hit, but it’s a hit that makes Scarlett whoop it up obnoxiously.
“She owns you, Castle. Freaking owns you.”
Rolling my eyes, I toss pitch after pitch, throwing them at about fifty percent, and Indie connects with them. Hutton whoops it up as well and the “crowd’ starts to grate on my nerves. It’s time. I nod at Asher and he nods back.
I bring it up to about seventy-five percent.
And she hits it.
Okay.
That was lucky.
I throw another and another, and she makes contact with each ball. I pick up another ball and push my hand through my hair.
“Is that all you’ve got?” she asks, a shake to her ass.
“I was going easy on you. Settle down.”