Behind the Plate: A New Adult Sports Romance (The Boys of Baseball Book 2)

by J. Sterling

  BEHIND THE PLATE

  THE BOYS OF BASEBALL #2

  by

  J. Sterling

  BEHIND THE PLATE

  Copyright © 2020 by J. Sterling

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Edited by:

  Jovana Shirley

  Unforeseen Editing

  www.unforeseenediting.com

  Cover Design by:

  Michelle Preast

  www.Michelle-Preast.com

  facebook.com/IndieBookCovers

  Kindle Edition, License Notes

  This serial e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and you did not purchase it or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Please do not participate or encourage the piracy of copyrighted materials. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  ISBN-13: 978-1-945042-27-0

  Please visit the author’s website

  www.j-sterling.com

  to find out where additional versions might be purchased.

  Other Books by J. Sterling

  Bitter Rivals—an enemies to lovers romance

  Dear Heart, I Hate You

  10 Years Later—A Second Chance Romance

  In Dreams—a new adult college romance

  Chance Encounters—a coming of age story

  The Game Series:

  The Perfect Game—Book One

  The Game Changer—Book Two

  The Sweetest Game—Book Three

  The Other Game (Dean Carter)—Book Four

  The Playboy Serial:

  Avoiding the Playboy—Episode #1

  Resisting the Playboy—Episode #2

  Wanting the Playboy—Episode #3

  The Celebrity Series:

  Seeing Stars—Madison & Walker

  Breaking Stars—Paige & Tatum

  Losing Stars—Quinn & Ryson

  The Fisher Brothers Series:

  No Bad Days—a New Adult, Second Chance Romance

  Guy Hater—an Emotional Love Story

  Adios Pantalones—a Single Mom Romance

  Happy Ending

  THE BOYS OF BASEBALL

  (THE NEXT GENERATION OF FULLTON STATE BASEBALL PLAYERS):

  The Ninth Inning—Cole Anders

  Behind the Plate—Chance Carter

  Safe at First—Mac Davies

  About the Author

  Jenn Sterling is a Southern California native who loves writing stories from the heart. Every story she tells has pieces of her truth in it, as well as her life experience. She has her bachelor’s degree in Radio/TV/Film and has worked in the entertainment industry the majority of her life.

  Jenn loves hearing from her readers and can be found online at:

  Blog & Website:

  www.j-sterling.com

  Twitter:

  twitter.com/AuthorJSterling

  Facebook:

  facebook.com/AuthorJSterling

  Private Facebook Reader Group:

  facebook.com/groups/ThePerfectGameChangerGroup

  Instagram:

  instagram.com/AuthorJSterling

  Follow Me on These Book Loving Sites:

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  Dedication

  This story is for every person who fell for our loveable screw-up, Jack F’n Carter and the love of his life, Cassie Andrews. Chance’s book is for all of you. I know you’ve been waiting. I’m so excited he’s finally here!

  Table of Contents

  Other Books by J. Sterling

  About the Author

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Coming Home

  Pre-Fall Party

  Meetings

  Tutoring Athletes

  The Boyfriend

  Tutor Girl

  Not Friends

  Friends Eat Together

  Dinner with the Fam

  When Pasts Collide

  Internal Conflict

  Don’t Recognize Myself

  Catching Up with Cole

  Secrets Brought to Light

  Take a Break

  Tried to Break Up

  Grade Check

  Her Boyfriend is Still a Dick

  Pre-Winter Break Party

  What Do I Do

  Back in New York

  Surprise Visits

  First-Game Nerves

  Cheated in Silence

  Talk It Out

  Talking is Overrated

  No More Talking

  Stick a Fork in Me

  I Have a Girlfriend

  Not Himself

  Stubborn Little Spitfire

  Realizations

  Propositions

  I Have My Answer

  Parental Advice

  Family Meeting

  Dreams Come True

  Epilogue

  Other Books by J. Sterling

  About the Author

  Prologue

  The Summer Before Junior Year of College

  Chance

  The airport was too bright, light filtering in from every direction as I looked around at the sheer amount of people rushing in and out, avoiding touching each other like they had the plague. Why was everyone always in such a hurry?

  My phone buzzed in my hand, and I looked down, seeing a text from Cole Anders, wishing me good luck. I was surprised that he remembered I was leaving today.

  Cole was my teammate at Fullton State, and he had just gotten drafted for Houston. I couldn’t have been happier for him for getting the chance to pursue his professional dreams, especially after all the shit he’d gone through last season in order to get there.

  I typed out a quick reply, telling him the same thing back, and shoved my phone in my pocket when it buzzed again.

  I pulled it out, pressed on the screen, and saw a picture of Mac’s face zoomed in way too close. Mac Davies was another teammate of mine, but he was also my closest friend. He was currently driving to Washington state to play baseball for the summer there, and I knew he was bored traveling by himself. I sent him a picture of me flipping him off, and my mom swatted my hand.

  “Really?” she pretended to scold me, but I knew she didn’t really care.

  “It’s just Mac,” I said, like that should excuse my behavior.

  “I like Mac. Don’t be me
an to him,” she chastised, and I rolled my eyes, apparently a trait I’d gotten from her since my dad brought it up each and every time I did it.

  “I like him too. That’s why I’m mean to him.” I smiled, and she shook her head, her eyes starting to water.

  “Mom, no.” I stood in the airport with my baseball bag slung over my shoulder as I watched my mom’s bright green eyes fill with more tears. “Please don’t cry. Dad, help!” I turned to look for my dad, willing him to come and get my mom, but he was preoccupied with my little sister, Jacey, who wasn’t so little anymore.

  My mom wiped under her eyes and smiled. “I’m fine. I’m sorry. It’s just always emotional when you leave for the whole summer.”

  “I’ve been doing this every year since I was a freshman,” I reminded her, but it was no use.

  I’d been invited to the most exclusive baseball programs each summer since I started playing college ball. I knew how lucky I was to have this chance and how most other guys would kill to be in my position, but I also knew how hard I’d worked for it. Invitations like this didn’t get handed to guys who couldn’t play the game, no matter what your last name was. I’d earned the right to be on that field with the best of the best, but some players never saw it that way. To some guys, I’d always be riding my dad’s coattails, and nothing I did could change their minds.

  “I know. It’s still hard though. Wait until you’re a parent. You’ll see,” she said before her expression changed, and she swallowed. “No. I mean, do not be a parent. Just say no. Not yet. No kids for you. You’re still a kid.”

  She kept saying all the things she’d told me a million times before, and my dad finally decided to walk over and save me from the lecture starting that was all his fault, it was about to happen anyway because of his past.

  My mom tended to absolutely freak out whenever the thought of baseball groupies going after her only son shot into her mind. It was like she was catapulted back in time, her face twisting, eyes narrowing, heart breaking. I knew far too much about my parents’ dating history and the things that they had gone through when they were my age. But I wasn’t my dad. At least, that was what I’d been told a thousand times by everyone who had grown up with him. Apparently, not sleeping with the entire female population made me nothing like my old man.

  I’d started keeping girls out of my life once I realized that some of them were exactly like the ones my parents had always warned me about. I’d grown up hearing stories about females with malicious intent, but it never really sank in until it started happening to me in high school. It scared the living shit out of me to realize the things that girls were capable of doing and saying, the lies they were willing to spread just to escape their reality and hopefully gain a part of mine.

  There was a time when I was stupid and naive and believed that people meant the things that they said, but I learned that wasn’t true time and time again after getting burned by females I’d genuinely liked and thought they liked me back. They didn’t. At least, not really. They liked the idea of me being a famous baseball player with a lot of money. They wanted a part of that, and I wanted none of them So, I had become untrusting and closed off. All I wanted to do was play professional baseball, and I did not want my future derailed in any way.

  My dad was Jack Carter, former Major League Baseball player—on and off the field—and all-around legend at Fullton State. He cast a long and wide shadow, but to be honest, I never felt like I lived in it. Where Jack Carter was one of the best left-handed pitchers anyone had seen in years, I was one of the best catchers on the field. You tried to steal on me, and it was to your detriment. Take too big of a lead at first base, and I was going to throw your ass out before your fingers even reached back for the bag. I had a cannon for an arm, and I wasn’t afraid to use it.

  My dad wrapped his arms around my mom and planted a kiss against her head. “What’s this about Chance having kids?” He gave me an all-knowing look, clearly getting joy from riling my mom up. It was one of his favorite pastimes, teasing her.

  “I was just reminding him that he’s not allowed to have any,” my mom spoke up, and Jacey laughed.

  “Ever. I’m not allowed to have any ever, apparently,” I added, not that I had a problem with that, to be honest. I couldn’t even imagine finding someone who looked at me and didn’t get dollar signs in their eyes.

  My dad stepped away from my mom and toward me, putting his hand on my shoulder. “You know she just worries.”

  “I know.” I narrowed my eyes. “Because of you.”

  “Well, I wasn’t as smart as you are,” he offered with a shrug, and Jacey busted out laughing again.

  “What are you laughing at, Squirt?” I turned to face her and rubbed my fist on top of her head, messing up her hair.

  She used to let me do it when she was younger, but now that she was fifteen, she hated it.

  “He called you smart. We both know that’s a lie.” She maneuvered herself out of my grip and started straightening her blonde hair.

  “What do you know about it?”

  My little sister was far too fluent in sarcasm and being a smart-ass. I wanted to get pissed at her for it, but it usually made me laugh. My sister and I had a great relationship. I wasn’t sure if it was the six-year age difference or just our personalities, but we always got along. Except for when she started crushing and flirting with my friends. I wanted to lock her in her bedroom and never let her out.

  “I know you can’t pass math.” She stuck her tongue out and ran a few steps away, so I couldn’t reach her. “Sucks to be dumb!”

  I swiveled my head toward my parents, knowing that they had ratted me out to her. What she had said was the truth, but still. I’d delayed retaking this math class for as long as I could, and I couldn’t put it off anymore. If I didn’t pass this class this coming fall semester, I wasn’t going to be eligible to play … in my freaking draft year.

  The worst part was that I’d gotten drafted right out of high school, but after a long talk with my dad, I decided that I wasn’t ready. I elected to go to Fullton State on a full-ride athletic scholarship, and my dad also got offered a coaching position with the team. The goal was for me to improve my game, see better competition, and honestly, take a little time to grow up. Everyone had thought I was crazy to not accept the offer, but it had never once felt like a mistake to turn it down—until now, when things were starting to feel more out of my control.

  I wished I were a genius when it came to school and could pass my classes with ease like Mac and some of the others, but I wasn’t. And while I knew that an education was important, I really was only at Fullton State to play baseball, not to learn about things I’d never use later on in life.

  “Really, you guys? You have to tell her all my personal business?” I asked both of them, not knowing who was to blame.

  “She overhears everything,” my mom whispered toward me.

  “I heard that,” Jacey announced from ten feet away.

  “See?” My mom’s green eyes were wide. “It’s not natural.”

  “Heard that too,” Jacey said in a singsong tone.

  Shaking my head, I looked up toward the large clock in the terminal and glanced toward the line at security. “I need to get going,” I said, my tone sadder than I had intended. The last thing I wanted to do was upset my mom again and have her start crying.

  “Did you hear about Coby?” my dad asked, almost hesitant, and I nodded.

  “Yeah. Uncle Dean called me.”

  Uncle Dean was my dad’s brother and my unofficial sports agent. Even though we weren’t allowed to sign any paperwork until after the season ended, it went without saying that he would be representing me. There was no way that I’d let anyone else handle my career. Not just because he was family, but also because he was respected across the industry and great at his job. I trusted my baseball future in his hands.

  “And I talked to Coby this morning.”

  My cousin, Coby, Uncle Dean’s son, was
a baseball player too.

  We had always talked about going to Fullton State together and playing on the same team in college. I thought it was our shared dream to continue some sort of Carter legacy, but instead of coming to school with me, he decided to play baseball out of state.

  I was hurt at first when I found out, but after talking to Coby, I understood his reasoning. He knew that if he came to Fullton, he most likely wouldn’t be a starter for a couple years, if at all. He played infield and ours was already stacked. Coby’s best chance at actually playing and having a future in baseball was to go play somewhere else. I knew how hard the decision must have been for him to make, and I supported him a hundred percent. He’d sounded relieved when I congratulated him.

  “I was really sad about it at first but mostly for selfish reasons. But I think it might be the best decision for him,” my mom said, always the logical one.

  “It is. He’s doing the right thing,” I agreed as I sucked in a breath. “I really need to go,” I urged, hoping they’d let me walk away this time.

  “Have a great season. We’ll come out soon,” my dad said with a grin, and I felt a little lighter.

  I genuinely loved whenever they came to watch me play in the summer. It made baseball feel even more right, knowing they were all there, cheering me on.

  There wasn’t a time when I remembered even playing baseball without my dad around, so summers always felt a little weird without him. You would think most kids would love the freedom, but I loved having my dad’s opinion, feedback, and help. He made me a better ball player.

  My mom reached for me and hugged me hard. “You’re my favorite son.”

  “I’m your only son.”

  “So? You’re still my favorite,” she said with a small laugh.

  “I’ll take it,” I said. Right when she was about to speak, I interrupted, already knowing what was coming next, “I know, Mom. Stay away from the girls who think I’m their meal ticket out of town.”

  She shrugged. “You can’t blame me for being concerned.”

  I could.

  But I don’t.

  She wasn’t wrong when it came to the way some of the girls acted. It seemed like not much had changed between my dad’s time playing baseball and mine. Girls chased me. They left their cell phone numbers on my Bronco windshield, stalked my social media profiles, sent me a million and one direct messages, pretended to run into me on campus, hung out with my teammates to get closer to me, befriended my little sister to get to me—that one pissed me off the most—and showed up at my place, uninvited.