Free Shark Out of Water (Grab Your Pole, #3) by Jenn Cooksey Page B

unbiased support to a chick he doesn’t even know, then he can’t be all bad. I mean, his game is all bad, but it might be good for her to get some separation on all this shit. Hell, I’m even thinking of asking her for the guy’s number…
    “Here, get the other side,” Katy directed as she pulled one side of the comforter up and started to tuck it under the pillows. “I don’t know, I didn’t get that far…she had to go. Her dad is taking her out for another pre-driver’s test testdrive.”
    “Think she’ll pass this time?” Poor Camie. I know I like to make fun of her for stuff like this, because it really is pretty fuckin’ comical, but the chick’s been through the wringer this past week, you know? First her boyfriend—who’ll remain nameless for right now because if I think about him even a little bit, I’m gonna fuckin’ lose it again—dumps her on her birthday, then she finds out her mom’s cancer that they all thought was in remission actually isn’t and that it spread when she comes home all sick and shit after having a surgery that removed most of her colon, then she fails her driver’s test, and then there’s last night and all the rest of the shit with her now ex-boyfriend. It’s a wonder the girl can even spell her own name right now.
    “I don’t know…” Katy answered and then sighed. Aw goddamnit; I know that sigh. She’s gonna start talking at me. “Jeff, I know you don’t wanna talk about last night, but I do…what did you say to Pete before he hit you? I mean, I couldn’t really hear from where I was, but I was watching and he was definitely leaving. Whatever you said really, really pissed him off.”
    Yeah, no shit. Pete doesn’t get pissed like that. Not that I’ve ever seen…not off a baseball field anyway. There was one time a batter rushed the mound, which completely pisses him off, and Pete cleaned his clock but good; I honestly expected to see little cartoon birdies flying around the guy’s head. Anyway, I’ll be one hundred percent honest here; it shocked the shit out of me when he actually punched me. He didn’t even hesitate a millisecond and before I even knew he’d hit me, I was on my ass. It was like getting struck by lightning…it was that fast. It was also that hard …my ears only stopped ringing a couple hours ago. The thing is, I don’t know what I said that made him do it.
    “Katy, I’ve been over that like a zillion times starting when my ass cheeks hit the grass, and I still have no idea what I said that pissed him off so much. Honestly, when I asked him if he knew what fuckface had done, he said something like ‘I know what he didn’t do,’ which makes no fucking sense whatsoever. So I called him on that and compared him to Jillian, except I think I called her a bitch or something, I’m not sure though because that was when he hit me. The only thing I can think is that…fuck, I don’t know what to think. Maybe he just got fed up with me running my mouth.” That’s a very real possibility…Pete’s not a fan of people talking shit. He doesn’t even especially like it when his catcher does it to a batter and that’s part of what a good catcher will do. You know, get inside a batter’s head and fuck with them so they don’t hit well. “He said it was a wakeup call and that I needed to realize shit isn’t what it looks like.”
    “He called Camie Tristan’s girlfriend…” Katy said quietly.
    “Out of habit. He misspoke, Katy.”
    “Yeah, you’re right…but um, everything else he said…you know, about you eventually waking up, Tristan trusting you again…things not being what they appear to be…I just…it makes me wonder if there’s something we don’t know. I mean, don’t you think we should be asking ourselves the big question why? Why didn’t he tell you what happened, why did he disappear, why didn’t he fight back last night, and why are Pete and Jillian on his side?”
    “All good questions, Katy, so when