Playing Fate (Endgame Series Book 1) Read Online Free PDF Page B

She presses a drink in my hand. I sip it; it’s strong as hell, but I’ll take it.
    I repeat the conversation I overheard, and she stares at me like I’m an idiot. “You’re mad at him for that?”
    “Yes. I don’t like handouts. He doesn’t know me.”
    “Because you hold him at arms-length. I’m telling you, he’s a good guy. He doesn’t know your story because he isn’t around that much. He has other responsibilities.” Yes, Julie. I get it. I hear her name enough. I feel like these conversations are on constant repeat . . . maybe I’m the culprit. I have this resistance and pull to him. “Just don’t rush to judge him.” I watch her mingle and feel regret. I don’t want her annoyed at me, and maybe I did overreact.
    Leaning against the wall, I watch the party and let the alcohol loosen me up. “Hey.” I look over and some tall guy in a tight shirt leans next to me. His hair falls over his forehead in a boyish, bad news way. “I’m Alec.”
    “Saylor.” I smile at him. This guy is wasted.
    “I know. I asked about you. I play ball with the guys.”
    “Ah. Nice to meet you.”
    “Wanna get out of here?” His nose is pressed against my cheek, and he gives me the creeps.
    “I’m good.” I push off the wall, trying to exit. His hand grabs my forearm, holding me there.
    “Come on. You know you want to.” His grip tightens, and I panic.
    “Really, I’m fine.” I see Mason in my line of vision, and I call to him. “Mace.” He turns and makes his way to me.
    “You good?” His eyes go to where Alec has a hold of me.
    “Yeah. Can you tell your teammate to let go of me?” Alec releases my arm and leaves, throwing a nasty look over his shoulder. I watch him walk off and take a deep breath. “Thanks.”
    “You okay, Shortstop?” He’s looking at the hand mark left from his friend.
    “I’m good. Ready to leave.”
    “Let me walk you home.”
    “Thanks, Mace. You’re a good guy.”
    “So’s DD.” He winks at me. Not gonna happen. I look at his shirt and die laughing. ‘I have A.D.D.’ is written across it, and underneath it reads ‘A Delicious Dick.’
    “That shirt . . . shouldn’t it be Deacon’s?”
    “Nah, he has his hands full.” See, this is what I don’t get. His hands are full with Julie, and an ex that is still lurking, but people are trying to get me to get to know him. He seems like he is interested in me, but that makes him an asshole. Dude doesn’t know what he wants. I’ve had experience with that type of male, and I am not looking for a repeat performance. My dad left a lasting impression.
    I kiss Mason’s cheek with a, “Night.” I give a little wave as I make my way across the yard under his watchful gaze.
    I reach for my journal . . . the words won’t come because my head is a jumbled mess. Tossing my pen aside and putting my journal back, I snuggle in bed and drift off.
    The disaster that awaits me is worth three hundred bucks. Why did I demand a lower rate? Fuck, they are messy. I try to be as quiet as I can, letting Florida Georgia Line pump in my ears. In a little under two hours, I have the place manageable. I just need to vacuum as I survey the room and put the mop away.
    “Hey, Shortstop.” Caden pats my head as he steps into the kitchen—promptly busting his ass on the wet floor. I can’t help my laughter. I know I shouldn’t, but Captain Obvious watched me put the mop away.
    Mason comes around the corner. “If we’re getting wet and wild on the floor, count me in.”
    “Pig.” I roll my eyes. He helps Caden to his feet, and I try and stifle my giggle. “I’ll be done in a few.”
    “No rush, we’re gonna go next door and lift for a bit.”
    “So, what position do you play?”
    “Pitcher.” Mason grins. Cocky ass.
    “Catcher,” Caden mumbles, chugging orange juice from the carton. UGH.
    I mull it over and laugh. “So Mason, you’re the pitcher in this relationship?”
    His eyes widen. “Shut it, Shortstop.” Turning to