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Full Count - Audiobook

Full Count - Audiobook

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Main Tropes

  • Sports Romance
  • Friend's To Lovers
  • Tortured Hero
  • Angsty
  • All The Feels
  • Slow Burn

Synopsis

Dating my bestie? Yeah, I can only wish...

Garret Cartel.

Cessna University’s starting shortstop.

Painstakingly gorgeous.

Reserved.

Friend-zoned since freshman year.

I have a knack for falling for unattainable guys.

Blame my trust issues.

They keep me safe.

But this is our final year.

My last chance to break the dreaded friend-zone chains before graduation.

There’s one slight problem.

Every time we get close, Garret pulls away.

There’s a secretive side to him I haven’t tapped.

And I need to know.

Is it his secret keeping us apart, 

Or something bigger?

No matter what holds him back,

I intend to play my part.

I don’t care how full his count is, I want my shot.

And I don’t intend to stop until he’s mine.

Book Three in the Cessna U Wildcats series, Full Count, is a friends to lovers, stand-alone romance. If you like sexy, hot baseball players, click to add Garret Cartel.

Intro Into Chapter 1

Lexie

Current Day

Garret: Fun Fact. My mom bought Silk Latte Mocha, thinking it was chocolate milk. I thought of you.

One quick errand and my rare, kid-free night can begin. So, how do I celebrate? By visiting Sunset Pavilion, the long-term healthcare faculty where Mom works. Big party girl, I am. At least, I didn’t have to dress up. Or do my hair. The residents don’t care about my makeup-free face, my messy bun, or the fact I smell like a Chinese restaurant. I have one mission, and that’s to deliver Mom’s supper and head back to the house and binge season one of Locke and Key.

The latter portion is my actual celebration. For once, I’m looking forward to a peaceful evening of my version of Netflix and chill. This summer has been grueling with my two brothers acting like wild heathens. One brother thinks he’s the lead drummer for Metallica when in reality, he couldn’t hold the cymbals for a novice band student. The other one acts like he gets daily infusions of Red Bull mixed with shots of 5-hour ENERGY. They are a handful. Regardless of their hyperactivity and my constant complaining, I love them to the moon. It’s just nice to get a reprieve once in a while.

I snatch the takeout from the front seat of my car and exit. I’m halfway to the building when my phone buzzes. For a split second, I contemplate ignoring it, but it could be Dad. He has my brothers. I juggle the takeout bag to my other hand and fish my phone from my shorts pocket.

“Hello?” I answer, trepidation lacing the edges of my voice. Dad’s calls are never good.

“I’m swinging by the house to drop the boys off. I’m almost there.”

“Why?” My feet come to a halt as my insides cringe from the question. I know better than to ask. His answer will only infuriate me and further the rift between us.

“Jillian can’t handle them.”

“They were supposed to stay for another three days. What am I supposed to tell them? Don’t answer that. They’re in the car with you and will overhear our conversation.” I grip my cell tighter. I shouldn’t be all that surprised. His latest live-in girlfriend doesn’t seem to like kids—not surprising since she’s my age—but I could tell my brothers got on her nerves the first time they met.

“Don’t be like that. Jillian isn’t used to kids.”

Because she’s an only child and doesn’t have any of her own. Oh, God. What if they last and she decides to have children? A shudder races down my spine from the thought of Dad becoming a father again. He sucked the first go around, so I doubt he improved. “Whatever. It isn’t my place to tell you how to be a father.”

His sigh resonates through the phone. “Jillian’s trying, but this is a hard week for her.”

“Is everything okay?” I resume walking. As much as I dislike Jillian, I’d hate for something terrible to have happened.

“The adoption of her Maltese puppy got delayed by two weeks.”

“Tragic,” I deadpan. The boys are wild beyond doubt, but come on. They’re his kids. Some girl who’s the same age as his daughter shouldn’t come before spending time with them. I bite my tongue, holding back what I want to say.

“Speaking of Jillian, she really would like for you to come to her gym. She wants to school you on proper nutrition and exercise. If you listen to her, you may be able to snag a guy before graduation.”

I scoff. As if I need to pin down a guy before graduating. What the hell? I thought the idea of obtaining an MRS Degree fizzled a couple of decades ago. “First of all, quit trying to sound hip. You’re using the slang wrong, and it’s not even popular anymore. Second, thanks, but no thanks. I’m rather busy with it being my final year before grad school.”

“Talk to her, at least. She can teach you how to eat properly. She teaches a nutrition class, and knowledge is power. You do favor your mother’s frame.”

I stand outside the building’s front door, trying to reel in my emotions. What Dad’s saying is I’m too heavy, considering Mom’s weight was an issue in their divorce. He cheated on her with a younger, more fit woman and then tried playing the victim. He claimed the woman came on to him, and she was too tempting with her tight, fit body. Ugh. I’m glad Mom kicked his ass to the curb. But he continually hounds me about my weight. I get that I’m vertically challenged, and my frame appears heavier than taller girls, but I’m not undesirable, far from it. I’m normal. Besides, some men prefer curves. Only shallow-minded people like him care. Nope. My weight isn’t the issue as to the reason I don’t have a permanent boyfriend. But his words still bite deep.

“I’ll give it some thought,” I say dismissively. “I have to go.

Mom’s food is getting cold.”

“Wait, you’re not home?”

The corners of my mouth lift to an evil grin. It serves him right for assuming I have nothing better to do on a Saturday night. “Nope. I’m at Sunset. I guess you should’ve called before leaving.

You’ll have to wait until I get back.”

I’m met with his silence as I stroll inside the building. I flash a quick smile at Gladys, who I’ve dubbed The Warden. She’s a nice, older lady, but when she’s on duty, no one slips past the front desk. I hold up Mom’s takeout food as Dad’s “fine” rings in my ear.

“I’ll see you when I get home,” I say a little too chipper. Without waiting for a reply, I hang up. I hate being that way, but he leaves me no choice when he harps about my weight.

“Did she forget her food again?” Gladys asks.

“Yep.”

“I buzzed for her. She’ll be down here any moment.”

“Thank you.”

“Lexie?”

My body stiffens from the familiarity of that voice. And the reason I remain single. I close my eyes for a beat, cursing my luck. The last person I want seeing me without makeup and smelling like garlic is Garret Cartel.

Humor.

I’ll deflect with humor. That way, he won’t be focused on my appearance. I suck in an encouraging breath and spin on my heels to meet my bestie. But the moment I take in the view, the snarky greeting dies on my lips.

“Aw, you have your hands full.” I motion to the little girl draped across his shoulder. She’s out like a light. Long, dark curls hide her face, but my bet’s on her being gorgeous. I place her around three or four years old. She could be a much younger sister, but I’m leaning toward a niece. I’d ask, but considering he has been my male bestie since freshman year, I feel kind of dumb for not knowing if he has siblings. As close as we are during school, I don’t know much about his personal life. Other than me griping about having to babysit my brothers, family discussions never come up in our conversations. He’s reserved when it comes to his life outside school.

“Yeah, she crashed about a half-hour ago.” He pats her back, and my heart doubles in size from the cuteness. “We were just visiting family. What are you doing here?”

I lift the bag of Chinese takeout. “Bringing Mom her supper.”

“Your mom works here?” His eyebrows pop in surprise, but he quickly regains control.

“Yeah. Mom doesn’t work too many weekends, but this is where she goes when I complain about babysitting.” I expect him to laugh, but his lips curl into a grimace. Then, he gives me a onceover, and it’s my turn to grimace. My elastic waisted knee-high shorts and ratty T-shirt aren’t going to turn any heads. Need I mention my messy hair and lack of makeup?

“You look good.”

“I’m a mess.” I bark out a laugh. “I look like I just rolled out of bed.”

Something flashes through his eyes I can’t quite distinguish. Dark and feral maybe? I don’t know. I’m sure it’s my imagination. Garret is such a tease. He never thinks of me as anything other than a friend. Why would he? My appearance resembles a homeless person while he looks ripped straight from a comic book. With chiseled muscles and broad shoulders, his overall strong physique looks perfectly drawn. He’s a bundle of masculine hotness. His short dark hair and defined jawline are enough to make any girl swoon. And believe me, I’ve been swooning for the past three years.

“You’re perfect the way you are. You don’t need all that crap women wear. And I like your messy hair. It’s sexy.”

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Amid the electric charge of Cessna's fields, Lexie seeks to decode the game's most elusive player: Garret Cartel. As time dwindles, love's greatest challenge isn't in the play, but in the unsaid. Can a heart hit a home run through walls built over time?
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