Fastball Flirt (The Boys of Summer Series Book 1)

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Fastball Flirt (The Boys of Summer Series Book 1) Page 8

by Kelsey Cheyenne


  “Grow up, Owen. In what universe would I really want to only be his friend?” I toss my hair over my shoulder before crossing my arms over my chest.

  “We could make him jealous?” The man sounds all too eager. Sure, Owen is cute, but his playboy vibes set off about sixteen red flags.

  “I don’t think he’s even aware I’m still here,” I grumble.

  “Are you crazy? He looks over here every thirty seconds to make sure you’re still watching him. You two are the ones who need to grow up and stop playing games.”

  “Pot meet kettle.”

  “I don’t play games. With me, you know what you’re getting: one night of supreme satisfaction. That’s all I’m here to offer, even if they come crawling back for more.” I roll my eyes.

  “He’s not playing any games. He told me exactly what he wants, I’m just too afraid to give it to him.” It seems somewhere along the line I’ve decided Owen is my new therapist.

  “Why? Rookie over there is as lame as they come—and in this instance, I mean it as a compliment. He never comes out with us; I’ve never seen him pick up a girl. Truthfully, we were all placing bets on him being gay.” I scoff at the toxic masculinity this man is exuding. “Look, the dude likes you. He’s a good guy. Take him for his word; he’s probably one of the only reliable guys on this team.”

  I believe him for some reason. Owen seems like a lot of things, but I don’t think he’s lying to me.

  I grab my things and stomp inside. I don’t want to leave Hollis with the twin sluts, but I can’t stomach to sit here and watch this any longer. Pressing the button to the elevator, I lean against the wall while I wait. The ping is music to my ears as the doors open. After pressing the button for the ninth floor, I press my back against the wall of the elevator and hang my head.

  What is wrong with me? I tell Hollis I can’t be with him, but seeing him with those girls sent a hot jolt of jealousy straight through my veins. Why am I even here? If I don’t want to be with him, why did I bother coming at all? I’m frustrated with myself; I can only imagine how he feels.

  When I get to my floor, I walk into my room and get right in the shower. The water sears knives into my burnt skin, but I need to wash this day off of me. Afterwards, I make sure to apply approximately one pound of aloe all over my body before ordering up room service. While I wait for my food to arrive, I’m also waiting for Hollis to come barging in the room, chasing after me like the guys do in romantic comedies. Isn’t that what men are supposed to do? Shouldn’t he be fighting for me like he said he was?

  Ten more minutes pass and there’s a knock at the door. My stomach growls as I walk as briskly as my crisp legs can manage. I pull it open…to see Hollis.

  “I forgot my key.” He’s holding a doggy bag of food. A smile forms on my lips and he pushes in to put the food down. In an instant, I’m on him.

  I grab his arm to pull him to face me and lift on my toes, kissing him. I must have shocked him because it takes him a minute to reciprocate, but then his body wakes up. His arm wraps around my back in what should be a romantic moment, but it’s ruined by my hiss of pain.

  “Ow, ow. Sunburn.” I jump away from him and press my palm to my tender flesh. I take in his appearance in contrast to mine. I look like Doug after he got left on the roof in The Hangover. Hollis, of course, looks like a summer dream come to life. Sexy and tan and able to move freely without hurting himself. Life isn’t fair.

  “Shit, I’m sorry.”

  We’re in a bit of a standoff. There’s a lot between us right now and I’m not talking about the couple of feet separating us. I want to kiss him. I want to hit him. I want to scream and yell and handcuff our wrists together.

  “Should we—”

  “Talk?” I finish his thought.

  “I was actually going to say eat.” I sit on my bed and he sits on his. We’re facing one another and our knees almost touch. “Why were you with Owen?”

  “He came up to me and invited me over. I didn’t want to be rude.” He rubs his jaw so I throw the question back to him. “Why were you with those girls all day?”

  “Because you looked cozy with Owen.”

  This is unproductive.

  There’s another knock at the door and I open it to snag my food. Hollis quirks an eyebrow as he stares at me.

  “What? I didn’t know what you were going to do with the twin tramps. I didn’t know if you were even going to come back to the room.”

  “I told you I’m not like that.”

  “I think I’m finally starting to believe you.”

  His smile is broad, though my returning grin is shy. It’s a baby step, but I feel it’s a step in the right direction. We’re quiet for a bit while we chow down, but I catch him sneaking glances at me every so often because I’m doing exactly the same. I wanted to talk, now’s my chance.

  “I was jealous.” I wipe my hands on a napkin without glancing up, though I can feel his eyes on me.

  “So was I.” I finally look at him. I’m not surprised by his words, by his honesty. He’s been nothing if not completely transparent with me. “Can we stop with the games?”

  “I wasn’t trying to play games with you,” I tell him honestly. It was never my intention. I didn’t realize I’d react like an indecisive psycho. “I wanted to give you this summer, but I wanted to do it on my terms. I wanted to have a fun summer fling. I realize now how unrealistic that sounds.” I bite my lip. I’ve never been careless a day in my life and apparently I’m not starting now. I thought I could throw caution to the wind and have meaningless sex. Clearly, I lost my mind in agreeing to this whole thing.

  “Lila, I could’ve told you you’re not that kind of girl. I knew that the moment I met you. It’s what I like about you. You’re not throwing yourself at me.” Like all the other girls do. He doesn’t say it, but he doesn’t have to. I can fill in the blanks myself.

  “So…you want me to keep playing hard to get?” I smirk as I glance up at him and his eyes narrow into slits. He gets up and comes to join me on my bed, totally unabashed as he gets in my space.

  “I’d prefer if you didn’t.” His words are nothing but a whisper as he leans in toward me. I’m ready for his kiss and I close my eyes, waiting for the electric moment out lips touch, but it never comes.

  Peeking with one eye cracked, I catch that damned sexy grin on his face. My other eye opens and I pout in disappointment. “I thought you were going to kiss me,” I admit.

  “I told you I wouldn’t touch you.” We’re still whispering and the tension in the room has skyrocketed. I scoot closer to him until our thighs touch. I’m surprised my pajama shorts don’t burst into flames with the sparks shooting between us. No way in hell can I wear long pants to bed tonight with this sunburn. I’m not sure I want to keep him away from me anymore anyway.

  “But I kissed you. That was your green light.”

  “Are you sure you want to do this?”

  I glance up at him from under my lashes. Instead of answering him, I lean in and press my lips to his. There isn’t much we can do with my body in its current state. We kiss until my lips are as red and sore as the rest of my body.

  I’m already acutely aware that it’s not damn near enough.

  Today’s game against the Cardinals is at 4:35, and Hollis is pitching, which means he’s heading to the stadium by the time I’m crawling out of bed. It’s just after nine when he plants a kiss on my forehead and walks out of the door.

  There’s been a shift since our conversation yesterday, which I’m not surprised. I gave him an inch, an admission that I trust him to not be America’s Largest Manwhore, and he’s taking miles. My kisses worked the way I’d intended. We’re back on and touching is no longer off limits.

  I must say, I’m here for it. Finally. We ordered dinner and ate side by side and watched TV after. The whole time, some part of him was touching me. I still want to take it slow. I made him sleep in his own bed last night, but that’s mainly because I don’t trust m
yself at this point to not maul him.

  Luckily, my sunburn has forced me to behave, but as I stretch, my skin doesn’t feel as tight or itchy today. I guess the aloe and lotion helped my cause.

  Since I have the day to myself until the game, I take the opportunity to call Bridget and catch her up to speed, even though there’s not much to say.

  “Finally, you bitch. I thought he might’ve turned out to be a serial killer after all. You need to send me updates more frequently. A text here and there. A carrier pigeon. I’m not asking for much.”

  “I’ll break out my quill and ink.”

  “That’s what I like to hear.” I laugh. Damn, I miss my best friend. “So, give me all the dirty details.” Somehow it’s like I can hear her wiggling her eyebrows through the phone.

  “There are no dirty details.”

  “You’re not implying…” She’s shocked and I don’t even blame her.

  “Yup. My chastity belt is still intact, thank you very much.”

  “I’m almost impressed.”

  “Well, the thing is starting to slip, so don’t go inducting me into the nuns’ society or anything.”

  “That’s my girl. Where are you now?” I hear codes being called in the hospital through the phone and briefly wonder if she has to go attend to any of them. When she doesn’t say anything, I respond.

  “Arizona for the next three days. Then we’re heading to Atlanta for the next stretch.”

  “How’s life on the road?” I fill her in on my various anxiety attacks and futile attempts to friendzone the sexiest man I’ve ever spoken to. She laughs and I can almost hear her saying, I told you so. Naturally, I tell her about our first night together and how he opted to sleep in briefs that gave a very full display of his impressive package. She won’t let me continue without full blown measurements.

  “Come on, you gotta give me something. Is it like a cucumber? A beer bottle? A carrot? Think, Lila.”

  “Isn’t that a little intrusive?”

  “You’re the one who brought it up. You can’t go and grow a conscience now.”

  “Fine. It’s like…a tall beer can.” My face is hot at the admission…and the memory.

  “In length or girth?”

  “Both.”

  “You saw it hard?!” I think I can hear her shriek all the way from Florida.

  “No. That’s what it looks like soft.”

  “Holy shit. How the hell have you not taken that thing for a test drive?”

  “BRIDGET!”

  She laughs and we spend the next hour on the phone talking about anything and everything. It feels good to talk to her. I almost didn’t realize how much I’ve missed her until I heard her voice. She tells me all about her job and how much she loves it. I’m so happy for her. I promise to take time to visit her before school starts and she swears she’ll fly back up to visit soon.

  Surprisingly, the rest of the day passes by swiftly. I head to the stadium early to watch the Sox warm up before the game starts. I’m lucky and Hollis comes to talk to me before heading into the dugout, but he also gets swarmed with fans asking for autographed balls. That’s one of the downsides, for me anyway, of him playing for one of the best MLB teams. Even though it’s an away game, there are fans everywhere.

  It’s warm again today and I wore a hat to try and keep the sun off my face. The past few games I’ve been sitting next to Melissa, one of the other pitcher’s wives, to chat and keep me company. Today, though, a man probably in his thirties snags the empty chair beside me.

  I think most of the family and friends get box seats this close to the field and since he’s on the away side, I ask if he’s here with anyone. His name is Max and he’s the brother of one of the Cardinals’ players. We shoot the shit a bit, partaking in friendly banter. He’s a nice guy and this way, at least, I still have someone to talk to. I guess his girlfriend was supposed to come with him to the game, but she got sick and couldn’t make it.

  The game starts and Hollis takes the mound. I make sure to talk a little smack, telling Max that his brother won’t get any hits today because that’s my guy, the all-star pitcher. As the inning ends, I wave to Hollis. I catch his gaze snap between me and Max as my neighbor leans toward me from his seat. He’s whispering a bunch of bullshit about how his brother will knock a shot out of the park. We even bet on it.

  Though, as the game progresses, it looks like my new friend is going to lose his bet. It was simple; if his brother hits a homer off one of Hollis’ pitches, I have to leave here in Cardinals gear. If I win, he has to rock a Sox hat on his way out of the park. It’s juvenile, but the conversation is easy. We’re both missing our people and it’s a simple, silly bet.

  The Red Sox are up to bat and in classic baseball stadium fashion, the kiss cam circles around the stadium. I never expected it to land on me, which, in hindsight, might have been a little naïve. I am sitting front row alone, next to a man I’ve spent the entire game talking to.

  Max and I show up on the jumbotron inside a pink, cloud-like heart. Both Max and I shake our heads and wave our hands, trying to get the camera to point at someone else. I’m not Irish and clearly have none of their luck because the entire stadium starts chanting¸ “Kiss, kiss, kiss!”

  My face shows up bright red on the screen and not because of my healing sunburn.

  The next thing I know, I spot Hollis jog up the steps from the dugout. He runs right over to me, jumps up on the tiny wall separating me from the field, and pulls me in for a searing kiss.

  Everyone sees it.

  People hoot and holler.

  In a flash, it’s over, and Hollis jogs back to the dugout, but the damage is done. We’re a public item as far as baseball fans around the world are concerned. Next thing I know, I’ll be spotting myself on the cover of some sleazy gossip magazine or on E! News.

  I’m probably getting ahead of myself, considering I’m a legit nobody, but the thought still has be cringing.

  In the next instant, my phone starts vibrating and my brother’s name flashes on the screen as an incoming text. And so it begins.

  Jackson: What the hell was that?

  Lila: I assume you’re watching the Sox game?

  Jackson: You have some explaining to do

  My brother and I have always been pretty close. He’s the classic older brother, always looking out for me and threatening all of my boyfriends. I’m not looking forward to this conversation, but then another text comes through.

  Jackson: You’ve gotta introduce me

  Something tells me he won’t be threatening his idol to protect his sister’s heart. He’ll probably threaten me to make sure I don’t screw it up.

  The rest of the game flies by without incident aside from my phone blowing up. I get texts from both Bridget and Phoebe because they somehow heard about or saw the kiss. At least my parents were never sports fans and I don’t have to worry about them seeing it.

  I think my cheeks are permanently flushed. People hoot and holler all around me, patting me on the back. Some of the more petty girls sneer and talk shit loud enough for me to hear, but I don’t care. They can’t touch me.

  I’m not upset about the kiss. In some part of my brain I thought I would be, but I’m not. Truth be told, I’m kinda turned on about Hollis staking his claim on me in front of an entire stadium…and everyone watching at home.

  I’m proud as I watch him pitch an incredible game. Mentally the whole time I’m thinking, that’s my man! And now everyone knows it. He only let one run in and much to Max’s dismay, it wasn’t his brother who scored. As the game draws to a close, I make sure to walk him to a vendor selling Sox merch and watch him buy a hat to wear out of the park.

  “Thanks for keeping me company. Maybe I’ll see you at the game tomorrow?” I ask, but it seems this is the end of my friendship with Max since he’s not coming to any more games this series.

  I’m flying high from the game. I thought after the moment passed and settled, I’d be mad or embarrassed f
rom Hollis outing us to the world, but I’m still flattered. He wanted people to know I was with him. It’s pretty freaking hot.

  The Uber driver can’t even bring me down with his chattiness. I tune him out as I take the short ride back to the hotel. All I can think about is Hollis and all the things I want to do to him the minute I see him. He’s claimed me in public, now I want to claim him in private.

  I get antsy as I sit on the bed and wait. I alternate pacing the floor and striking a sexy pose on the bed, but as soon as I hear someone walking by, I choke and sit up. I head to the mini bar to down a quick drink and loosen my nerves as I wait.

  After an hour passes, the door swings open and in walks Hollis in all his glory. His hat is backwards, which I’m discovering is my kryptonite. He walks right over to where I’m perched on the bed and hugs me. His slight scruff scratches my cheek as he pulls back, giving himself access to kiss down my neck. The kisses, though brief, are sharp. Biting. The flesh is tender still from the sun exposure, but the slight edge of pain awakens parts of my body that have been dormant for quite some time.

  “Where’s your friend?” His words, though soft, have a hidden meaning. It’s why he’s punishing my sensitive flesh. He’s jealous.

  “You just missed him. Must’ve snuck out without you seeing him.”

  Hollis growls and pulls me so I’m standing before slapping my ass.

  “You torture me. You tease me.” His hands find my back pockets, allowing him to cup my ass. “You’re killing me, woman.” He kisses my neck and moves up, capturing my mouth roughly. “I want you so bad, Lila. I promised not to push you, but I’m hanging on by a thread here.” His hands grip my waist, fingers digging into my flesh. Bruising me. Baiting me.

  “I know what you mean.” My quiet admission takes him my surprise. His eyes widen as he looks at me and I bite my lip, suddenly embarrassed. Am I ready to drive head first into Hollis? One glance at him, and I know the answer.

  I push on me toes and kiss him with hungry fervor. I bite and tug at his bottom lip, egging him on. His slacks do nothing to hide the outline of his cock as it hardens against me. Suddenly breaking away, he grips my shoulders, keeping me at arms’ length as he pants. My rapid breaths match his and I slide my hands around his forearms, slyly attempting to move his arms.

 

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