Chapter 2
Fletcher
“You hear that Fletch got shot down last night?” Hudson, our team’s catcher, announces without a care for who could possibly overhear.
“What?” Jaxon, our first baseman, practically chokes. “Fletch? You can’t possibly mean our Mason Fletcher?” His wide brown eyes move in my direction. “This is fucking historic. We need to make some commemorative T-shirts or something.”
I may be the brunt of the joke, but I’m not worried. As a member of the team it’s practically a rite of passage to get roasted. It’s basically our love language. If they aren’t screwing with you, that’s when you know you need to be concerned.
“I wouldn’t worry about it fellas,” I say as we exit the locker room and head through the tunnel toward the field.
“I have a feeling I’ll be running into her again soon, and next time I don’t imagine she’ll be saying no,” I assure them, feigning confidence despite the fact that I’m currently fueled by nothing more than delusion and the power of positive thinking.
Plus, Magnolia Fields is a pretty small town.
How hard could it possibly be to stage another run-in?
Not only did I meet Hollis there last night, but her ex, too.
That has to mean it’s a regular spot for them, and with it being only a thirty-minute drive from Houston, I should be able to make it happen pretty easily.
Some could call that stalking, but I prefer to think of it as offering fate a helping hand.
“I don’t know. She seemed pretty dead-set on turning you down,” Hudson taunts.
“Still not worried about it,” I say, brushing him off, even if the sting of her rejection is still a bit raw.
Contrary to what these assholes seem to think—and are excited to broadcast to everyone within a fifty foot radius—I have in fact been turned down before. With Hollis, though, this is the first time someone’s burrowed so deep under my skin after just one meeting.
She wasn’t just gorgeous, she was my exact type, down to every last impossible detail. If someone asked me to describe my dream girl, it’d just be her.
She wasn’t exactly short, as I still had several inches on her, but I love a woman with a little height on em’, especially when paired with a perfectly curvy yet slightly toned frame.
I’ve also always been a sucker for a gorgeous brunette, and the way her long chestnut hair fell in loose waves over her shoulders?
Yeah, let’s just say it took some effort not to spend the entire night picturing myself grabbing a fistful of it.
“I don’t know,” Hudson says, cutting into my daydream. “You got pretty lame last night. After she shot you down you didn’t hit on anyone else for the rest of the night. Not even those bachelorette chicks who invited you back to their Airbnb.”
Jaxon’s eyes grow even larger. “Wait, hold up. You got turned down and you went home alone? Are we sure you’re okay?” he asks, reaching out as though he’s checking the temperature of my forehead.
I slap his hand away.
Okay, so maybe I’ve garnered a reputation for enjoying a certain kind of company, and usually my bed is kept pretty warm at night, but they’re definitely blowing this way out of proportion.
“Seriously? Come on.” I hold my hands up. “This isn't a big deal. I just wasn’t in the mood for company. Plus, it’s obvious they were the type of women to completely deck out their place in dick memorabilia. Sorry, but that’s just not the vibe I was going for last night.”
Hudson scoffs. “A bunch of horny women throwing themselves at you after playing pin the dick on the fiancé?” he smirks. “I don’t know. I’m just not buying it. Something was definitely up.”
“No kidding. Plus, we know you. Mason Fletcher never strikes out. Not in baseball or with women,” Jaxon says, nudging me with his elbow.
“Aw, Jax, you know better than anyone there’s no such thing as a perfect batting average,” I joke, getting in a quick jab of my own.
“Ha-Ha,” he says with no trace of amusement in his tone as we walk onto the field to join the growing crowd.
Not only has the entire Houston Honky Tonks team gathered—the namesakes of our small entertainment-first baseball league—but our ‘rivals’, the Rowdy Rattlers, are here too, along with what looks to be the entire staff of the Honky Tonk Ball organization.
“So what’s this all about, anyway?” Jaxon asks as we settle in among the rest of the players, coaches, and staff.
“I heard that Jared finally hired a new social media manager for the league,” Hudson says, which checks out.
We’ve gone through a few already, none of them delivering the results needed to build a proper fanbase—something this franchise desperately needs if it’s going to survive past this season or the next.
For now, all we can do is trust that Jared Clemmins, a former Major League Baseball player and the owner of the Houston Honky Tonks, has finally landed someone worthy of the role.
We’ve managed to gain a small following, and even picked up some traction after our first season last year, but we all know the league has the potential to be so much more.
Jared truly created something special here, and despite us busting our asses to get the word out about Honky Tonk Ball, it just hasn’t taken off the way we hoped.
The one thing working in our favor is the people who do find us instantly fall in love with us as players.
Our silly, and oftentimes downright crazy antics on the field, along with our individual social media accounts have slowly started to gain traction across various platforms. While the league and team accounts are growing, it hasn't been as fast as we've hoped.
And the engagement with those accounts? Abysmal at best.
It probably hasn’t helped that no one who’s taken on the role so far has truly understood what we stand for. We aren’t your typical baseball league, nor are we trying to be.
We’re known for our trick plays, our crazy rules, and our walk-up music that often involves cowboy hats, choreography, and, of course, our signature line dances.
We’ve taken the classical game of baseball, bent a few rules, and turned it into a full-blown show the entire family can enjoy together.
There’s never a dull moment at a Honky Tonks game, yet none of the previous hires have been able to fully capture the magic we bring to the field.
“Alright everyone, let’s calm down,” Bruce, the head coach of the Honky Tonks, hollers, cupping his hands around his mouth to amplify the sound across the small crowd.
The chatter dies down as Jared steps onto the field, followed closely by a woman wearing a form-fitting red, Honky Tonks T-shirt and jean shorts. Her chestnut-brown hair is pulled back into a slick ponytail as it swishes from side-to-side as she walks.
Time doesn’t just slow down, it freezes altogether.
I’ve never felt this sort of out-of-body experience before.
It’s like I’ve been dropped into the middle of one of those slow-motion movie montages.
It’s not just my world that comes to a halt—so does my heart.
Or maybe it’s just the fact that I’ve stopped breathing altogether, my breath getting caught in my throat.
“What the fuck?” I curse under my breath, but obviously not quietly enough as Jaxon’s curious gaze swivels my way, while Hudson nudges his shoulder into mine.
“Holy shit!” Hudson chuckles. “That’s her. It’s Fletch’s dream girl.”
Jaxon catches on and straightens up, as he does his best to get a better look.
The black dress and the fuck-me heels that had me drooling all over myself may be gone, but even in her Honky Tonk gear, she looks just as stunning. Hell, maybe even better.
At least now I can sleep better knowing it wasn’t just one too many beers making me glamorize her for no good reason.
If anything, seeing her like this only makes me want her more.
I mean, come on. Who doesn’t look good when they're dressed up and going out with their friends?
She obviously made an effort to look good for her first day, but this feels different. More real.
“Hey everyone,” Jared greets us with his usual big, friendly grin.
“As you all know, we’ve been looking for a new social media manager, and I was lucky enough to convince my daughter, Hollis, and the best social media manager out there to agree to it,” he explains, placing a proud hand on her shoulder.
It hadn’t even been a consideration that I’d run into Jared Clemmin’s daughter last night. Now, taking the time to look at them side-by-side, there’s an obvious resemblance with their dark hair and similar eyes and nose shapes, but last night, how could I have ever known?
Okay, so maybe the only reason we knew about the bar in Magnolia Fields was because Jared had mentioned it, and had even taken us out for drinks there, but still, that feels like a pretty big stretch to make.
Even Hudson, Mateo, Easten, and my other buddies from the team who went last night hadn’t pieced it together.
“And I better not hear any talk of nepotism or of her not being qualified. If anything, she’s doing us all the favor by lending us her services.
After earning her Communications degree from Texas A&M, she's spent the past two years working in Los Angeles for some of the biggest brands out there, half of whom have only achieved their current level of recognition because she was the one who put their names on the map.” His serious gaze slowly pans over us.
“However, just because she’s here due to her own merits doesn’t mean I’m not going to be a protective father, so I’m only going to say this once: you will show her the level of respect she deserves. ”
Hollis has kept a professional smile on her face, albeit with an occasional blush on her cheeks, but that calm demeanor falters as she rolls her eyes.
“Okay, Mr. Clemmins. That’s more than enough from you,” she jumps in, clapping her hands together with a radiant smile.
“Like he said, I’m Hollis and I’m genuinely excited to be here.
Most importantly I’m ready to become an official member of the Honky Tonk family.
I’ve heard nothing but the highest praise about each and every one of you from my father, and it’s been practically impossible not to come across many of you online. "
“I’ve seen so many of your videos and it’s clear a lot of you already know what you’re doing, which is why I want this to be a collaboration.
I’m not here to take over or fix something that isn’t broken.
So if any of you have any ideas, no matter how big, small, or ridiculous they may seem, I want to hear them all.
My door, as well as my DMs are always open, so please, never hesitate to reach out. ”
“So, does this mean since she turned you down she's fair game?” Jaxon mutters under his breath.
I shoot him a glare.
I don’t exactly have any real claim over the beautiful goddess that is Hollis Clemmens, but that doesn’t mean I want any of these guys shooting their shot either. Not that they’d even stand a chance. The way she shut me down was so effortless, it was almost impressive.
All I know, as my eyes remain locked on Hollis as she talks privately with her father, is that I’m nowhere near ready to tap out. I meant every word I told her last night. I’m a patient man, and if she wants to play hard to get, I’m completely down. Easy is overrated, anyway.
If time is what she needs, she can have it. But if what she really needs is someone stubborn enough to chip away at that wall of hers then hand me a fucking toolbox and I’ll gladly start hammering away. I play to win, and right now, I’m playing for her whether she’s ready for me or not.
Game fucking on.