The Third Baseman (The New York Lions #1)

by Lulu Moore

“My future doesn’t include you.” I

OOOOOF THAT SUCKKS

the second I heard her voice, I nearly fell to my knees.

Well, an astrodynamicist.” “Holy fuck. What’s she doing with you? You can’t even pronounce it!”

Turns out when something isn’t rocket science, it’s really hard.

For stargazing. And as you’re not inviting me over, here are the coordinates for my roof terrace the next time you want to see me and my body… all that. 40.7336° N, 74.0027° W

Threatening people really put a pep in my step.

My earlier panic and the ringing in my ears was likely the answer to why I hadn’t heard him out there setting it up, because there’s no way he’d been able to do this in silence. Roped lights hung between the palm trees, crisscrossing the tiny space and fastened onto the wall. My blankets had been laid out, along with more, and a dozen cushions I didn’t recognize. Electric tea lights flickered in the twilight, positioned in every corner and crevice he’d been able to find.

. . . I DID NOT LOSE MY VIRGINITY THIS WAY WHAT THE FUCK

I nodded, and reached up to wipe a trickle of sweat from his forehead; he caught my hand in his and brought it to his lips.

“I don’t give a fuck. You can’t come here looking like that and expect me to be…” “Be what?” “Friends.”