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    Catch Me Now
    Catch Me Now
    Catch Me Now
    Ebook94 pages55 minutes

    Catch Me Now

    By Ava Stone

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    About this ebook

    In her roommate's borrowed dress, Brynne Wright doesn't look like herself. In trying to capture the attention of a certain keyboardist, she somehow captures the interest of the sexy guy from her history class instead.
    Wheston baseball catcher Nate Carey is in trouble. A failed history midterm lands him on academic probation, which puts his baseball scholarship in jeopardy. Looking for a one-night distraction from his problems, a girl at a local club captures his full attention. But when the sun rises the next morning, and he has to focus on his academic troubles, will he be able to put the sexy blonde out of his mind? Or will she capture his heart when he least expects it?

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherAva Stone
    Release dateFeb 17, 2015
    ISBN9781311422682
    Catch Me Now
    Author

    Ava Stone

    Ava Stone is a USA Today bestselling author of Regency historical romance and college age New Adult romance. Whether in the 19th Century or the 21st, her books explore deep themes but with a light touch. A single mother, Ava lives outside Raleigh NC, but she travels extensively, always looking for inspiration for new stories and characters in the various locales she visits.

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      Book preview

      Catch Me Now - Ava Stone

      Catch Me Now

      A Desolate Sun Novella

      Copyright © 2015 by Ava Stone

      Cover Design by Lily Smith

      Smashwords Edition

      All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form by any electronic or mechanical means—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without written permission.

      The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

      Smashwords Edition, License Notes

      This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold 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 did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of the author.

      Ava Stone’s DESOLATE SUN series

      Week At the Beach ~ Short Story

      Live Like You Mean It ~ Novel

      Table of Contents

      Dedication

      One ~ Friday

      Two ~ Saturday

      Three ~ Monday

      Four ~ Tuesday

      Five ~ Wednesday

      Six ~ Thursday

      Seven ~ Saturday

      Eight ~ Monday

      Nine ~ Wednesday

      Ten ~ Thursday

      More Desolate Sun

      About Ava Stone

      SNEAK PEEK ~ Like It’s the First Time

      For my brilliant son ~ You’ve battled dyslexia your entire life and have had to find clever solutions to problems the rest of us take for granted. You’re one of the smartest people I know. ~ Mom

      I tipped back a bottle of Miller and closed my eyes, blocking out the lights and the crowd in the club and wishing everything was different. The band was decent enough. Desolate Sun usually was, but I just wasn’t in the mood to be social. I might not ever be in the mood again.

      Academic probation. Two words that really shouldn’t ever be together. I’d certainly never wanted to hear them in the same sentence. But I had that afternoon. Academic probation meant no baseball. No baseball meant no scholarship. No scholarship meant I was fucked. I tipped the bottle back one more time.

      Whoa, whoa. A hand clapped me on the back, and then Mike Willett, our first baseman, dropped into the seat across from me at the dingy little table. Don’t get too far ahead of me.

      I snorted at the absurdity of that statement. There wasn’t anyone I was getting too far ahead of, not anywhere it mattered. You don’t have to babysit me, Mike. I’m not gonna throw myself from the bell tower or anything.

      He stared at me like I’d lost my mind for saying something like that.

      I was on academic probation with a shit GPA, and I was dyslexic. But I wasn’t stupid. I know Coach wants you keep an eye on me.

      I don’t mind, I just… Willett breathed out a breath and shrugged. Well, I just don’t know how I’m supposed to help you, Nate.

      I laughed even though I didn’t feel like laughing. If you ever figure that out, you’ll far surpass every teacher and every counselor I’ve ever had.

      He shook his head. You’re just always studying. It’s not like I can have a talk with you, get you buckle down and put school first. You already do that.

      I’d always done that with the same results. You know how many major leaguers have a college degree?

      Twenty percent? he guessed, before taking a drink from his own bottle.

      Four point three. I frowned. You know what percentage of draft picks end up in the majors?

      Twenty percent? He grinned.

      He was closer that time. Seventeen. Essentially one in six. But not all of us will get drafted. Now I’m a good catcher—

      "You’re a great catcher."

      "I’m good, I said again. If I was great, if I was better than everyone else out there, that four point three percent wouldn’t bother me. I shook my head. But I’m not better than everyone else out there. And the odds are not in my favor, Mike."

      Well, now you’ve got me depressed. He took another swig of his beer.

      I have a high IQ, I told him, and I held up my thumb and forefinger. This close to genius, believe it or not. But my grades have always been shit. Probably shoulda picked a different school. Hindsight. I blew out a breath. I’d always known that very few of us had any sort of real shot at the majors, and if Wheston University was gonna let me play ball and give me a degree that was gonna mean something to me later on in life in the process…Well, a degree from Wheston was better than a degree from ninety percent of the other schools out there. So I’d jumped at the opportunity, swore to myself that it would be different in college. I would study morning, noon, and night. And I’d done that, but I was still fucked.

      And the last thing I wanted to do was go home to Texas, my tail between my legs, and work for the same chicken company my dad had all his life. But that’s what it was looking like.

      Mike frowned at me. Did you know my dad was the head of the medical school?

      Yeah. I’d heard that. Mike’s dad had been killed on some kind of trip for the university several years ago. Something like that. I wasn’t gonna ask for details.

      He always said talking to your professors was the best thing to do. You gotta appeal to their human side. They’re people too at the end of the day.

      I nodded. Uh, yeah, when you’re dyslexic you’ve had those conversations your whole academic career. And, honestly, most teachers, most professors were pretty understanding, but… "Professor Giraud does not give a shit. Told me he was tired of incompetent student athletes looking for a pass and he wasn’t giving one out this time. So I either ace the final

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