Chapter 12 #2
I internally sigh at myself. I’m trying to become less of a people pleaser. Automatically agreeing to whatever Colt wants is just falling into the same pattern, but I can’t find it in me to care when I’m lost in his blue eyes.
He rewards me with a blinding smile. “Really? Awesome. Thanks, Lark. You’re doing me a huge favor. You good to follow me? We need to go straight there to make it on time.”
“Yep,” I chirp as I hustle over to my bike. I place my backpack on the seat and unclip my helmet. I also pull out my gloves and zip up my leather jacket.
Colt shrugs on his own riding jacket before grabbing his helmet. “Let’s connect our comms in case we get separated.”
“Sounds good.”
Once we’re connected, we both get onto our bikes. Colt pulls out ahead of me, and I follow him down the winding back road, enjoying the feel of my machine under me and the air whipping around me.
“You know much about baseball?” Colt’s voice crackles over the speakers in my helmet. I know he’s probably shouting to be heard over the wind, but his voice sounds whisper quiet. With my shifter hearing, I can make out what he said without much effort.
“Yep. Charlie’s brother played baseball through college, so I used to spend a lot of weekends in the fall and spring going to his games.
I’d also play pickup games with other kids in the neighborhood sometimes.
” My lips tilt up in a small smile at the memories of Charlie, their parents, Wren, and me cheering on Coop.
“So, what you’re saying is you could coach this team perfectly fine on your own? I can just take the afternoon off?” Colt teases me.
I snort. “Not quite. I know how baseball works, but I’ve never coached anything in my life.”
Thinking about it now, I’m pretty sure it was a terrible idea to agree to help out. I have no idea what to do with one teen and preteen, let alone fifteen of them.
Some of my anxiety must leak into my voice because he rushes to reassure me. “You’ll do great, sweetheart. I can tell.”
“Thanks,” I mumble. I feel my cheeks heating, and I’m glad I’m wearing my helmet so Colt can’t see it.
The rest of the ride is fairly silent, aside from him giving me directions. I enjoy the wooded scenery and Colt’s quiet companionship as we ride through the back roads. Eventually, we start riding through the outskirts of Willow Bend.
It’s only a few minutes until we reach the baseball field complex. We wind through the fields before coming to a stop in front of the one that I’d guess is where Colt’s team is playing. After parking, I dismount and pull off my helmet.
As soon as I get a whiff of the scents around me, I realize something. “They’re human.”
“Yep. I coach both kind of teams. Is that a problem?” Colt asks carefully, although I can see the disappointment on his face. I don’t know why, but his disapproval is like a gut punch.
“No! Not at all,” I rush to tell him. “I was just surprised. I didn’t think you’d have much in common with human kids, is all.”
Maybe it’s an Oakridge Park thing, but my old streak didn’t ever mix with the humans. My parents were less than thrilled when I wanted to go to a human university after college, but they begrudgingly allowed it.
I have a lot of fond memories with humans from my college days, but I’m in the minority in the supernatural community. Most of our kind likes to keep to ourselves, for a variety of reasons.
“This team is through an organization for kids who have lost a parent or sibling. It’s a cause that’s close to my heart.” Colt clenches his jaw and looks away for a moment to gather himself.
I have to swallow past the lump in my throat a few times before I can croak, “That’s a good cause.”
Colt gives me a soft smile before rummaging in his backpack for something. When he finds what he wants, he chucks a wad of white-and-blue fabric at me.
I catch it reflexively. Shaking out the bundle, I realize that he tossed me a white baseball jersey with blue stripes. Both “11” and “Davenport” are embroidered in matching blue on the back.
After examining the shirt that’ll be way too big on me, I questioningly look up at him.
His mouth tips up in a half smile. “I’m already wearing team colors. You’re not, so you can borrow my jersey.”
I mean, he’s not wrong. I’m in pure black, and I’d assume the team colors are white and blue.
Shrugging, I take off my leather jacket so I’m just in my tight black undershirt.
The stretchy material is sweat-wicking and comfy for riding, but it’s a lot tighter than anything I’d normally wear.
Combined with my skinny riding jeans, I feel like I’m wearing a catsuit without my jacket over the top.
Colt growls, and I look up at him in alarm. I freeze when my gaze collides with his. Colt’s icy blue eyes are burning with something that looks a lot like heat or anger. I can’t really tell which it is, and I automatically shrink back at the thought that he’s pissed at me.
Apparently, this was the wrong move because Colt’s expression turns thunderous. He takes a step toward me before whirling around. With his back to me, Colt puts his hands on top of his head and looks up at the sky.
“Put on the damn jersey, Lark,” he growls over his shoulder. “Now.”
My eyes widen, and I hurry to do what he says. Pulling the shirt over my head, I’m unsurprised when it falls to mid-thigh. Colt’s a good ten inches taller than me, so it makes sense that his top absolutely swallows me.
Once I’m sufficiently covered, I mumble, “Sorry. I didn’t realize I looked so bad in the undershirt. I don’t usually give any thought to how I look when riding, so… sorry.”
I want to crawl into a hole and die of embarrassment. One of the hottest guys I’ve ever met is grossed out by seeing me in a tight shirt and pants. I guess I don’t need to worry about guarding my heart from him, because he clearly would never want me like that.
“You looking bad is not the problem. Not even close. Trust me, sweetheart.” Colt turns back around and scrubs a hand over his face before seeming to shake himself out of it. “C’mon. Let’s get on the field before they start the game without us.”