Fastball Flirt (The Boys of Summer Series Book 1) Page 7

  Most people would love it.

  I’m not most people.

  So, I don’t take this career for granted. I’m not going to become a screw up or let the money and notoriety get to my head. I’m not going to cut my career any shorter than it already is.

  My teammates like to give me shit for it, for being the rookie with a stick up his ass. I don’t get drunk off my ass. I don’t hook up with random chicks just because I can. I don’t draw bad press to me or my team because of my decisions. It’s not who I am. When it’s game day, I am in the zone, even when I’m not pitching. I take every drill, stretch, practice seriously. The minute my cleat hits the dirt, I center myself.

  I’m home.

  When I get to the field, I inhale the fresh smell of dirt and grass. I can block out the crowed on a good day, but sometimes I like to listen to them; their cheers, their boos. It motivates me. It makes me better.

  Today, as I stand with my hat in my right hand over my heart, I search the stands for her. Lila.

  The day I signed my contract with the Sox, I thought that was it for me. I got my dream job. Nothing else mattered. I would focus on baseball and the game alone.

  I didn’t realize what I was missing.

  I sound like a pussy-whipped fucking sap.

  No, I’m not pussy-whipped because we haven’t even slept together yet. Yet being the operative word. I know she’s hanging on by a thread. I see the way she looks at me and I sure as shit look at her the same way.

  So when my eyes scan the stands, I’m not surprised to find her watching me.

  My lips lift in a half grin and she smiles back. For the first time in all my years playing this sport, I wish I didn’t have to be at the game I’m not pitching in. I’d rather be up there with her and not in the thick of it. Though, I am glad to see she’s sitting with Melissa, Jimmy’s wife, and not totally alone.

  When the Anthem ends, I head into the dugout with the rest of the team where I’ll likely sit for the entire nine innings.

  Once the inning is underway, it’s easier to get lost in the game than I thought it would be. The team is on the edge of our seats as the innings pass. Neither team has scored in four innings. Our pitcher, Marshall, is having an off game. He’s given up hits every inning, but luckily none have made it back home. By the fifth inning, he gives up a home run with two men on base, and in an instant, we’re down three to nothing. By the sixth inning, coach pulls him from the game. Though our reliever doesn’t give up any runs, we only manage to score once ourselves. I was hoping to celebrate tonight with Lila, not have her throw me a goddamn pity party.

  After the game, I change and grab some food from the spread in the locker room, but I don’t want to be around any of these guys. Some are going out after the game, no surprise there, but I head right back to the hotel.

  My girl is already there waiting for me. I told her not to wait for me after the game because I never know how long I’m going to be there. Sometimes Coach and I go over the players and the game plan; we focus on what went wrong and what we can do better. Though, we’ll do the same thing before the game tomorrow, so we don’t have to stay too long.

  “Hey, sorry about the game.” She’s sitting on the edge of the bed wringing her hands and biting her bottom lip.

  “Shit happens.” I drag my hand through my hair and plop down on the bed beside her. I lie back and let out a frustrated huff.

  “Come here.” Her hand is cold when she wraps it around my wrist, attempting to pull me into a sitting position.

  I help her out, knowing damn well there’s no way she’ll pull me up on her own. I’m on the edge of the bed, my feet on the ground, and Lila climbs behind me on her knees. Her hands rub over my back and a moan escapes my lips as her fingers dig into the knots on my back.

  “Oh, God, that feels amazing. You have no idea.” Lila tugs at my shirt and I pull it over my head to give her better access. She works my shoulder, the one I slightly pulled a few games back. Her fingers are like magic, pushing and pulling the tender flesh. I hang my head, letting her get to my neck and shoulders.

  She massages me and I try my damnedest to control my reaction to her, but I can’t. It’s visceral. Her touch is an electric shock straight to my groin. Her perfume invades my senses, a distinct floral smell my I’m drawn to.

  After fifteen minutes, she pauses and shakes out her hands. I spin to face her on the bed, attempting to adjust myself subtly as I go.

  “Thank you,” I say and clear my throat. Her eyes trail over my body and land on my groin where I’m hard as a rock for her and widen when she spots what I was trying to hide.

  I can’t help it. Her smell, her proximity. The sensual nature of the massage and the fact that I’m shirtless on a bed with her added to my current state. Plus, I haven’t had sex in months. That doesn’t help.

  “Sorry, I can’t control it.” I push off the bed, hoping if I put space between us, I’ll calm down.

  Before I get away, her hand finds my forearm. She’s still kneeling on the bed and she looks up at me from under her lashes. Biting her lip, she tugs on my arm and I move like a lightning strike. My arms wind around her waist as I hoist her against me. Her kiss is searing and I groan at the contact. Her fingers tangle in my hair and tug at the roots gently. I can’t get enough of this girl. She’s more reserved, where I’m wild with need. Every move she makes is tentative where I’m uninhibited. I still won’t push her, but the effort might kill me.

  We kiss for ages, but I can already tell it’s not enough. Nothing with her will ever be enough. She’s burned into me. She’s a flame dancing in the wind and I’m a fucking pyromaniac. No matter what she gives me, I can’t get enough.

  ELEVEN

  Lila

  I could get lost in Hollis Graham.

  The thought scares the hell out of me. I barely know this man, but every time we touch I feel it in my soul. Something in him calls to me and my body is all too eager to answer.

  But, fuck, I’m scared. It’s why I won’t sleep with him. I can’t. This thing between us is ephemeral. I knew that going into this, but suddenly my heart has taken a turn. I’d hoped for a carefree summer, a reckless adventure filled fling with benefits and no strings.

  Yet, Hollis is playing on my heart like a freaking harp.

  What’s going to happen in a couple of months when I head to school? I’m not naïve enough to believe we’d try to make this work long distance. He’s a pro ballplayer and I’ll be occupied with school for the next couple of years. There’s no way to make this work, even if we wanted to. I don’t know why I wanted to come on the road with him so bad. What I thought would be a fun summer has been a serious bummer so far. One riddled with overwhelming anxiety.

  “Hollis.” I push away from him, breathless. His eyes are like dark chocolate, filled with desire. “We should talk.” I cringe at how lame I sound. We need to talk. I am a cliché.

  He’s probably going to be pissed and he should be. We should’ve talked about this before I traveled with him on his dime. I was freaking out at home; I could have brought up my concerns then.

  I feel like I keep waiting for him to flip on me. To get angry. To storm out, yell at me, throw a fit. But he never does. He’s patient and kind. He simply stops mauling my neck like a hungry lion and sits on the edge of the bed, a smile perched on his now red lips.

  “What are you afraid of, Lila?” He can read me like I’m a book he wrote. I sit back on my heels, unable to meet his gaze. Why do I always have to fucking clam up on him? I wanted to talk. God. If he’s not going to be pissed at me, I’ll be pissed at myself for him.

  “This isn’t what I wanted,” I start, then realize how that sounds. “No, that’s not what I mean. This, you, yes. I wanted this. I want…you, but I’m also afraid of you?” My words are uncertain and I don’t know how to explain what I’m feeling. He starts to object, but I shake my head and stop him. This isn’t coming out right. “No, you’ve been perfect. You’re a gentleman. I’m…I�
��m afraid of falling in love with you.”

  “Why?” He’s genuinely curious, like he’s put no thought into what will happen to us in a few months. Like it’s of no concern to him whatsoever.

  “Because this thing between us has an expiration date.” There’s my confession. My soul is bared for him to do what he pleases. Take me or leave me.

  “Why? It doesn’t have to.”

  “Be realistic.”

  “I’m trying to be. You’re the one who doesn’t want to listen, who doesn’t want to bend on this. You’re hell bent on going to school and forgetting about me, on leaving me behind. Why? It doesn’t have to be that way.” He runs an exasperated hand through his hair. Is he saying I shouldn’t go to school and pursue my dreams?

  “Doesn’t it? You’re a pro baseball player.”

  “That doesn’t have anything to do with this.” He can’t be serious.

  “You’re delusional. It has everything to do with this.”

  He pushes off the bed and starts pacing around the room. “What would be different if I wasn’t a pro ballplayer? What if I was an accountant in Boston? Would things be different then, if we met and you were still going away to school?” He caught me. I keep my mouth shut and he knows he’s onto something. “Exactly. The bottom line is, no matter who I am or what my occupation is, you don’t want to try.”

  “If you were an accountant I’m sure there wouldn’t be thousands of girls all over the country throwing themselves at you, at a shot to get into your bed. You wouldn’t be rich and famous, with your face plastered all over TV and magazines with endorsements.”

  “You don’t know that. Maybe I’d be on the cover of Accountants Weekly.”

  “That’s not even a real thing.” I shake my head, trying to get back to the point. He crosses the room to get to me and pulls my hands into his.

  “Then why did you come with me? You had to know this wasn’t going to be a physical thing for you. You don’t seem the type. Though, thanks for your vote of confidence. Frankly, I don’t sleep around either. I’m not interested in that lifestyle. Honestly, if I were, I probably wouldn’t have invited you to travel with me this summer. I don’t know what it is about you, Lila, but I want you. Nobody else. And I’m kind of getting a little pissed off that you’re not willing to give me a chance.”

  “I promised myself I would focus on my career. I don’t want to lose sight of that.”

  “Neither do I. Why can’t I change my perspective, my future, to include you? I’m not seeing a valid reason here to give up on us. Shit, we’ve been gone for two days and we’re already having this argument.”

  “Maybe I should just go home.”

  “That’s not what I meant.” His brows crease in determination. “Fuck, Lila, I’m already falling for you. I’m not fighting you, I’m fighting for you. I want you here. I want you to stay and I’m scared that you’re backing out on me. I don’t want you to give up on this. We could be something really fucking great.”

  I’m at a loss for words. His hands are still clutching mine, holding on for dear life. He’s begging me to stay. My head and my heart are at war.

  I pull my hands out of his grasp and glance up at him. “I can promise you this summer, but that’s all I can give you.”

  He takes his hand and runs it through his chocolate locks. He glances at me. I’m gnawing on my bottom lip, afraid of what he’s going to say. A cocky look washes over his features. The mischievous glint returns to his eyes and his usual sexy smirk is stamped on his lips.

  “We’ll see,” he says, grinning.

  I’m taken aback. “What does that mean?”

  He chuckles and leans in, pecking me on the lips. “If I only have a couple months to change your mind about us, then challenge accepted.”

  I’ve poked a sleeping bear.

  I’ve spent the rest of our time in California attempting to friendzone Hollis. I’m quickly discovering it’s hard to put someone in that box when you don’t actually want them in that category.

  I’ll admit, I want to be with Hollis. The problem is, it’s too complicated, as we’ve discussed. However, I think only I processed our conversation. He’s been pursuing me more intensely than ever. I know I promised him this summer, but how can I give myself to him for three months and then have it ripped away?

  It’s amazing he hasn’t gone to the ER for whiplash because of me.

  Ergo, the friendzone. I’ve kept my distance, as best as I can since we’ve been sharing a hotel room. I opt to sleep in long pants, I make a barrier of pillows between us. I make sure he doesn’t buy me any more meals if I can help it.

  But it hasn’t stopped him from bringing me flowers, from hitting on me at every turn. Though, I gotta hand it to him; he’s stopped kissing and touching me, which, somehow, is more frustrating.

  I can’t win.

  Now, I’m settling into the hotel room in Arizona for his series against the Cardinals. When we checked in at the front desk, I demanded a downgrade to a room with two queen beds. Hollis takes it all in stride, chuckling and shaking his head as if it’s all a matter of time until I crack and screw his brains out.

  He’s probably right, but that’s beside the point.

  The Sox have another surprising day off. I’m sure they’ll pay for it later in the season to make up for it, but since we have the day to ourselves, we don’t want to waste it. The hotel has an incredible pool and the heat is scorching here. I dig around in my bag to find the bathing suit Bridget insisted I bring along, and snagging it, I head into the bathroom to change.

  “Where ya headed?” Hollis is leaning against the wall. His tall frame blocking me from leaving the room.

  “The pool. I need to work on my tan.” I duck under his arm to grab my purse.

  “Cool. Hang on. I’ll come with you.”

  “You don’t have to. I’ll be boring. Lying there, listening to a podcast, baking in the sun. I won’t even go swimming. You’ll be bored.” I’m trying to talk him out of coming because if I see him in a swimsuit I might finally cave and jump him. It probably wouldn’t be the best idea to have sex with him in a public pool at a family friendly hotel.

  He fingers the thin yellow strap on my bikini and lets it go, letting it snap against my skin. “If you’re wearing that, I won’t be bored.” He offers me a wolfish grin and my cheeks heat under his gaze.

  “Suit yourself.” I don’t wait for him to get changed before heading down to the pool.

  The place is packed, thanks to the temperature feeling more like mid-July than May, but apparently that’s par for the course in Arizona. Gross.

  “Hey, you’re Hollis’ girl, right?” A guy with shaggy blond hair peeking out of his backwards baseball cap comes up to me. His eyes are hidden behind Ray-Bans and his body is ripped. I assume he’s Hollis’ teammate, but I can’t place who it is.

  “Uh, kinda, sorta. I’m Lila.”

  “I’m Owen. Come sit with us?” He motions to a couple of guys on the far side of the pool. I lift my shoulder and nod, following him. Why not?

  “Beer?” He offers me a can but I decline. “So, what’s your story with Rookie? How’d you two meet?”

  “At a game, actually. We’re just friends, though.” He shoos one of the guys away to open up a chair for me to sit. I feel bad stealing his seat, but I don’t refuse the offer.

  “Aren’t you two shacking up?”

  “Yeah, so?”

  Owen turns to look at some of his teammates and snickers. They make colorful comments under their breaths, but I choose to ignore them.

  “If you get tired of bunking with him and want to have some real fun, I’m in room eight-oh-six.” He tries to squeeze beside me on the lounger and I shrink away.

  “I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks.” I’m about to give him some excuse to get away from him, but I get distracted when Hollis pushes through the hotel doors to the pool.

  He’s shirtless with a t-shirt thrown over one shoulder. His swim trunks are dark blue
and stand out against his skin. A blue baseball cap sits backwards on his head and he pushes sunglasses over his eyes but pauses the minute he spots me.

  I notice him glance between me and Owen and his jaw hardens. He walks toward us with purpose, grabbing a nearby chair and dragging it toward the group of his teammates.

  “Hey, Rook.”

  His nod is terse. I can’t tell who he’s looking at behind his shades. “I see everyone here has made themselves comfortable.”

  A dig at me, surely.

  “Your girl here—sorry, she says she’s not your girl.” My head whips toward Owen, shooting daggers at him. I thought my death glare would at least induce some level of pain, but he seems wholly unaffected. “Lila was just telling us how you’re such a good friend to her.”

  His jaw ticks and his nod tells me he’s pissed off. I didn’t even say that, per se, but now’s not the time to bring it up. Instead of offering a retort, Hollis throws his stuff down onto his chair and dives into the pool. He manages to splash a couple of bimbos standing by the edge nursing their fruity cocktails. They squeal and immediately flock to him. I can’t hear the conversation, but he offers them a panty-melting grin. In retaliation, I peel off my cover-up and let Owen rub sunscreen on my back.

  We’re fighting fire with fire, and I have a feeling we’re both about to get burned.

  TWELVE

  Lila

  Skank one and skank two haven’t left Hollis’ side. I’m bordering on a nice shade of lobster and need to get my ass inside before I regret it. Yet, here I am, acting like a chaperone at a high school dance, making sure there’s no inappropriate touching or canoodling.

  Canoodling? I’m turning into my grandma.

  The brunette bimbos attached to Hollis at the hip are laughing like hyenas in heat. I swear, the man is not that funny. These two are acting like he’s Kevin Hart.

  “What’s wrong, Blondie?” Owen follows my gaze to the pool. Yes, this guy has not left my side since I got down here. He’s persistent, I’ll give him that. “Ahh, but I thought you two were just friends?”