I was hoping we’d all get to go to dinner with Hollis one of these days, but it doesn’t look like that’s going to be an option. I really wanted the three of them to get to know one another and get along, but it’ll have to wait for another day. The game tomorrow night is another late game and then we’re leaving. I’m already sad about saying goodbye to the girls and also jealous because Phoebe gets to stay longer than I do.
Bridget recommends a burger place near her work which sounds like perfect pregame food, not to be confused with the pregame drinks I used to consume in copious amounts before parties. Different pregames.
The girls beat me there and I join them at the table where they’re talking baby stuff. I guess Derrick is dead set on the name Koi if it’s a boy—likely to give him an explanation to his koi fish tattoo—and Kale for a girl…I’m not even going to touch that one.
“Do you have any names picked out?” I ask as the waitress comes up and places a community bowl of chips and salsa on the table along with our drinks. Bridget already ordered me a beer when she got here; God bless her.
“Not really, but I already vetoed, like, all of his names. I don’t want my kid to be bullied, ya know?” She rolls her eyes and a part of me truly wonders if she is happy with Derrick and if the two of them can make it for the long haul. Part of me thinks they’re just weird enough to be compatible and make it work.
My relentless concerns in my relationship seem so petty compared to Phoebe and even Bridget. I mean, Phoebe just moved in with her boyfriend and they’re already getting married with a baby on the way, yet I’m worried about moving too fast? They’re just out of college and about to be responsible for a whole new life. It’s wild. On the flip side, Bridget is working full time with no prospects of a boyfriend and living back at home with her mom. I should be grateful for the opportunity of a lifetime I’m living with Hollis.
Yet, I still have a ton of unresolved issues with my brother and a severed relationship with my parents I don’t think will ever be mended. I have to take the highs where I can get them because I have enough drama already. A part of me still thinks I should’ve tried harder and longer to maintain a no strings attached type of arrangement. Then again, my jealousy would’ve been even worse if that were the case. I’m backing myself into an unnecessary corner when I need to chill the fuck out and enjoy my life with my hot rich boyfriend. Things could definitely be worse.
The waitress comes and goes with our orders and I’ve never been happier when she reappears with a tray carrying our food. It’s like an instant jolt of serotonin deposited in my brain from the mere image and smell of a cheeseburger.
Why do I have to overthink everything? Why can’t I picture Hollis as this cheeseburger and be as happy and carefree about him as I am about this? They’re both equally hot and delicious. I could totally trick my brain into believing it. After I inhale my burger and way too many fries, we head to the stadium. I’m like a resident baseball groupie now. We get here a little early and the players are on the field signing autographs and some are even taking pictures.
There’s a group of girls I spot right away down by the Sox dugout. There are three of them holding a massive sign with a red glittery number eighteen and a not-so-funny attempt at a dirty pun playing on Hollis’ last name. Number 18 can Graham Slam me any day. Barf.
Yet, they have their phones out and are snapping an obnoxious number of selfies with the wearer of the number eighteen jersey himself; Hollis, with his boyish grin and messy, floppy hair peeking out from under his cap. I can smell their desperation from here and my boyfriend is playing right into it.
“See?” I hold my hand out so the girls follow my sight. “This is what I’m talking about. This is what I’ll be dealing with when I go away to school. I mean, girls just flock to him. They’re sharks and he’s an unsuspecting thirteen year old girl about to get her period for the first time in the ocean.”
My friends don’t say a word, but their faces tell me everything I need to know. They think I’m crazy.
“Is this about the girl in the bar he took a picture with when you first got together? I thought you were okay with that. Like, you were scary mature about it,” Bridget tells me with wide eyes.
“No, it’s not about her. I was fine with it…I’m not letting it get to me. I mean, I am, but it’s not him. It’s them. I know I can trust him, but—”
“No buts.” Bridget cuts me off and plasters her hand over my mouth. “If you can trust him and you love him, that’s all that matters.” I nod and she lowers her hand. “Now get down there, shove those skanks aside, and kiss your man.” I guess it doesn’t hurt to mark my territory in front of these hoes. And everyone else.
I head down the steps to metaphorically pee on my man’s leg. His smile turns broad as soon as he catches me coming down the stairs. The silly girls think it’s all for them, but they better move or they’re gonna get some piddle on their sandals.
“Hey, babe.” I’m the queen of the petty committee and I don’t even care. I lean over and place a kiss on his lips and the girls tsk and stomp away. Sayonara.
“You don’t need to be jealous.” The man can see right through me.
“I’m not jealous, but I’m hoping to make those girls turn a little green.” He smirks and shakes his head. My hands find my back pockets and he chuckles to himself.
“I know you’re trying to make them jealous, but I think a public quickie on top of the dugout is a bit much.” I remove my hands and place my arms at my sides, my jaw agape.
“I’m not trying to seduce you for a quickie.”
“Tell that to your body.” My cheeks heat and I turn my head to where the girls are standing. My friends come over quickly to wish Hollis and the Sox good luck. I kiss him goodbye but grab his arm before he gets too far.
“Hey, do you have any single teammates or a friend for Bridget? She’s in the middle of a dry spell. Better yet, do you know anyone playing for the Rays? It might be a better fit for her.” Bridget smacks my arm with her mouth wide open ready to catch flies.
“Lila.” She chastises me and I can’t help but laugh at her ruby shade. “Bye, Hollis. Good luck tonight.” She drags me away and I wiggle my fingers at my boyfriend as we head back to our seats. “You know I can’t date a ballplayer. My dad would kill me.”
“You brought it up first! And I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you tell your dad all about your sexcapades? I didn’t say marry the guy. Just have fun. Let loose, let off some steam. It could be for one night. Not like you have time for a relationship anyway with your job…” The sentence hangs and I can see the wheels turning in her pretty little head.
“Since when are you trying to convince me to hook up with a guy? Hollis changed you, girl. For the last four years, the shoe has always been on the other foot. I’m like a proud mama right now.”
“Speaking of mamas, I have to pee.” With that, Phoebe heads to the bathroom, and Bridget and I sit and look up the Tampa Bay Rays roster on our phones to see who has the best batting average…and best butt.
TWENTY-FOUR
Hollis
Seeing Lila with her best friends reminds me there’s a huge part of her I don’t even know. We’re sitting in the bar in the hotel thanks to the third game in our series being rained out. It’s been almost hurricane-like conditions all day and the field is soaked to no return. My girl is happy I was able to join them tonight for their goodbye dinner so I can get to know her friends. Part of me is glad to be here, but the other side of me is sad…or maybe confused.
Her friends make it seem like Lila has done a complete one-eighty this summer. Sure, she’s alluded to that fact herself, and there was the not so great interaction with her brother before accusing me of changing her, but I’m truly realizing it now for the first time, thanks to her friends and how much they like to talk.
I’m glad Lila wasn’t a sloppy party girl in college with numerous one night stands occurring weekly. But I can’t help but wonder why she changed. Why was I worth a shot?
Did I change her?
“Hey, are you okay?” My girl leans in close to whisper in my ear and I can smell her floral perfume. Her voice is laced with worry and if I could see her blue eyes, I’m sure they’d have a similar appearance.
“Yeah. All good.” I sip on my beer and notice her drink is almost empty. Is her brother right? Is she drinking more to cope with her decision to be with me? Am I bad for her? “I’m gonna run to the restroom.” I push my chair back and head straight back to relieve myself and get a few minutes to think.
I’m letting Jackson get in my head and now I’m seeing everything differently. Why? Am I only noticing it because the seed was planted, or is it really true? What would her friends say if they heard what Lila’s brother accused me of? From the conversation happening tonight, they might agree.
Fuck.
A few seconds after I lower my fly, the door opens. I’m not one to glance at the door when someone walks in the men’s room, but the scent wafting in catches my attention, especially compared to the usual bathroom smell. Glancing toward the floral fragrance, my brows reach my hairline in a mixture of confusion and surprise.
“Whatcha doing in here, Lila?” I’m fairly certain there’s a door labeled Women’s Room on the other side of the hall.
“Oh, I—oh. Sorry.” She glances down and sees my flaccid cock in my hand since I’m ready to piss. “I thought you leaving was like a code or something? You seemed off at the table…I thought you wanted to talk…sorry. I’ll let you get back to that.” She rushes from the room, pink coloring her cheeks before I can even get a word in.
Though I really do have to piss, I go as quick as I can and meet her back at the table. Her friends laugh and comment about how quick our quickie was, and if I’m not mistaken, unshed tears are forming in my girl’s eyes. Dammit. This is not supposed to happen.
“Give us a minute.” I tug on Lila’s hand and pull her from the table. She keeps her head down, averting her gaze from her friends to not let them see her cry. I drag her back to the hallway toward the restrooms and lean against the wall, urging her to talk to me.
“It’s nothing. I’m being stupid.”
“Stop that. You’re upset. Talk to me. I wasn’t blowing you off back there. If I knew you were going to join me, I would’ve done things differently.” I can’t control that I actually needed to piss, but I could’ve pushed the need to the side for her.
“You just seem so weird tonight. You’re not acting like yourself.” Wow, how the tables have turned. In a million years I didn’t think we’d be having this conversation about me.
“I’m sorry. I’m distracted. There’s a lot on my mind and I don’t want to burden you with it around your friends. Do you want me to head up to the room to wait for you? I don’t want to ruin your last night with them.”
She shakes her head and presses the palm of her hands to her eyes. When she pulls her hands away, she glances up at the ceiling and blinks several times, a tactic I know she’s using to dismiss her unwanted emotions. “No, come back with me. I want you here. I want you to know my friends and for them to know you.” She bites her lip as she glances at me but doesn’t look me in the eye as she explains herself. “I’m embarrassed because I thought you didn’t want me and I feel stupid for assuming to begin with.”
“I always want you.” I kiss her, not caring if anyone sees and actively ignoring her friends catcalling us from across the room. “I love you.”
We walk hand in hand back to her friends. I mostly let the three of them talk and spend this time together. I don’t want to ruin her night, but she really is a different person with them. She’s more open and comfortable in her own skin. Her eyes don’t wander with worry and her forehead is never crinkled. The only time she’s nibbled on her perfect bottom lip is when I stress her out.
Maybe Jackson is right after all and I just need to accept it. Maybe the best thing for Lila is if I leave her alone for good.
I need to get these thoughts off my chest. I can keep telling myself it’s not the right time, but I don’t think there will be a right time. She’s sitting on the bed with tear-stained cheeks after wishing her two best friends goodbye and not knowing when she’ll see them next. First thing tomorrow, we’ll be on a plane to the next game and I can’t have a deep and meaningful conversation with her surrounded by my teammates either.
Then again, I don’t want her to think I’m breaking up with her and then she’s stuck with me on this leg of our trip. That’s not happening and it’s not what this is about. I want to talk to her, to see where her head is at, to see if the things her brother said stuck with her like they’ve stuck with me.
I also know Lila, and if I give her one iota of doubt, we’ll be circling the drain, and I don’t want her to worry. I’m in a lose-lose-lose situation.
I sit back on the bed, determined to put these thoughts in a box in the back of my mind and drudge them up later when Lila isn’t crying and we aren’t surrounded by people. I reach for the TV remote as thunder crackles outside, and for a moment, the room is lit up with lightning.
Setting the remote on the bed, I open the curtains and watch the storm. I have a love-hate relationship with storms. On one hand, they get in the way of my career and can screw things up in an instant. Still, they’re powerful and I’ve always been drawn to them; I watch them every chance I get.
I open the sliding door and step out onto the balcony.
“What are you doing?” Lila screeches, but her volume is nothing compared to the rumble in the sky.
It’s windy and I’m instantly soaked as I stand and watch the world light up. It’s gotta be right overhead of us now, close enough for the electricity to be buzzing in the air.
“Are you crazy?” I glance back at the door where Lila is standing, her head outside to yell at me over the noise. Maybe I am crazy. Maybe I need to yell into the night and let the sound get lost against the sky.
Her hair is getting wet from the rain and I smile as I look at her. Fuck. I love her. I take my thoughts from earlier, my anxieties and fears—I think Lila is rubbing off on me—and turn them into positive sentiments.
Yeah, I can wonder why she changed; instead I think, how did I get so lucky? For her to take a risk, take a chance on me for no real reason, with nothing backing up her decision, with no proof she can trust me—how the fuck did I get so lucky?
I walk to her, uncaring about her squeals. I pull her out onto the deck with me and kiss her so she can feel all of my thoughts and worries and emotions. I feel as powerful as this storm and I want it to radiate down to her bones. I devour her, my hands fisting in her now-wet and tangled hair. I back her against the wall of our balcony and she caves to my whims. Her chest vibrates with a moan I can’t hear, but I can feel. I feel every inch of her, body and soul.
I peel off her shirt and the water droplets take to her bra, turning the white lace translucent. Her pink nipples pebble as they beg for me, but I ignore them for now. Seeing her like this is a fucking wet dream. I’m hard in an instant and my cock is dying to get inside her.
I unbutton her jean shorts and push them down her legs. They stick against her wet skin, but I fight harder. Lila’s hands find my waist and she pushes my shirt up and I help her tug it over my head, discarding it on the soaked balcony. My shorts follow and soon we’re both in our underwear, standing in the rain, staring at one another like two hungry animals eager to pounce.
My chest heaves with desire and her breaths match mine. Even now, in our most primal states, we’re in sync. I lunge for her and she’s easily as eager. She comes to me without thought and wraps her arms around my neck. We kiss until we can’t breathe and we’re almost slippery enough to slide apart. My hand trails over her soaked skin and down under her cotton panties, soaked from both the rain and her.
I glide my finger over her folds and slide into her easily. Our kiss ends as her head falls back against the wall. Her eyes are pinched shut as I circle her clit slowly. Easing another finger inside, I pum
p into her, keeping my thumb on her bud and urging her to fall.
Her cries rival the storm and she shakes as if she’s experiencing an earthquake. I tear off her panties, throwing the scraps to the ground without a care. She’ll probably have red lines from the fabric digging into her, but right now neither of us seems to care. The only thought ruling my mind is claiming her, getting inside of her, and going wild.
I push my briefs down next and lift under her thighs, pushing her back up against the wall, positioning her so I can slam her down onto my cock. Her perfect tits are still covered by the lace because there’s something innately sexy about the drenched see-through look. She’s there, but not fully available, and it’s driving me insane in the best fucking way.
I lean down, nipping at her neck, my tongue lapping up the water droplets. A boom sounds above us and I slam into her. The wind drowns out her screams of pleasure to everyone else, but I hear her. I feel her. I own her.
Her arms are slung over my neck and her head is back, lazy, too heavy to hold up. I thrust into her and I know her body so well. I can anticipate her every need, her every desire, without needing to hear her cries. I’m relentless, slamming into her with a storm of my own building inside of me. Tonight I’m a storm chaser and my storm is release. Hers and mine.
She spasms around my cock, gripping me from the inside and taking my punishing strokes for all they’re worth. The cold rain pounding on my back is a stark contrast to the wet heat she covers me in. The juxtaposition is heaven and I can’t get enough.
“Fuck, Lila, fuck, fuck, fuck.” My body moves harder, faster, until I can’t take it anymore and I erupt. A groan like thunder builds from my chest and pours out of me. I empty into her and she takes it all. I’ve never felt such…relief. Pleasure.
My legs actually buckle and I sit us down on the balcony covered in almost an inch of rain. I’m still inside her; it’s my home and I never want to leave.
I cradle her in my lap and notice the scratches all down her back thanks to the rough wall of the balcony. She looks up at me from under her lashes and a lazy, satisfied smile graces her pretty pink and swollen lips. I do my best to shield her from the torrential rain, but the point is moot by now. We’re cold and soaked. Her hair is matted and messy. Still, she’s never looked more beautiful.
Fastball Flirt (The Boys of Summer Series Book 1) Page 14
