Fastball Flirt (The Boys of Summer Series Book 1)

Home > Other > Fastball Flirt (The Boys of Summer Series Book 1) > Page 24
Fastball Flirt (The Boys of Summer Series Book 1) Page 24

by Kelsey Cheyenne


  I take my time, not moving, sitting on his dick and reveling in the full feeling. My arms wrap around his shoulders and I bury my head into his neck. I nip and kiss at his skin, peppering red bite marks down one side. I can tell he’s getting antsy underneath me. His hands sprawl across my hips as he lifts me up and slowly moves me back down. He’s in control, though it’s my body moving. He lifts me like I’m nothing until I can’t handle it anymore and I take over. His hands find my ass and he palms my cheeks. I ride him, moving harder and faster, the same way my heart is beating. For him. For us.

  He takes over when I can’t do it anymore. My limbs are locked in bliss, my back arched, my hair cascading down and tickling my hot skin. Hollis is everywhere—his hands, his lips, his arms circling my waist—it’s intoxicating.

  “I love you,” a whisper of truth in the midst of vulnerability. Even though it was quiet, nothing but an exhale hiding in the air, it doesn’t make it any less true. I do love him. So much it’s killing me. Every day without him is a battle, one I no longer want to face, yet I don’t have a choice.

  Still, I love him with all my atoms and all my fibers.

  “I love you too, Lila.” The words send a new crack down the center of my heart. One I’m not sure I’ll ever recover from.

  FORTY-ONE

  Lila

  One year later

  I take a break from packing up some of my things to scroll through social media. I’ve tried to steer clear of anything baseball related since I last saw Hollis, but today I feel like picking open my scabs. I type his name in the Instagram search bar and click on his profile. I still follow him, but he never posts much. Plus, I’ve been busy working on myself, preparing for my next move. I don’t have time to stalk his social media.

  At least, that’s what I tell myself. I’ve been too scared to look him up to risk seeing things I don’t want to see. I click on his tagged photos to really drive the knife into my chest. The first picture, of course, is him with his arm around a pretty girl with tits as big as her head and platinum blonde hair. Weirdly, she looks familiar, but I can’t place her.

  Like a jealous psycho, I screenshot the post and send it off to my best friend with the message, who is this?

  The phone buzzes in my hand with a FaceTime call. “You need to stop,” Bridget tells me and I roll my eyes.

  “She looks familiar, right?” I turn off the camera momentarily and go back to Instagram. If she’s not going to help me, I have to find out for myself.

  Realizing it’s too difficult to search through the tagged photos and see his face, I go to the girl’s page. A risky move. One wrong slip and I could follow her or like any number of her pictures, but desperate times and all that.

  “Oh my God, B.”

  “What?”

  “It’s the girl!”

  “Oh, yeah, that really clears things up.” I screenshot a second picture and send it to her. I return to FaceTime, only for her to be gone now, looking at the text I just sent her.

  It’s the same freaking girl he met at the bar when he and I first started dating. I checked the photo tags. It’s the same bar in the same city with the same girl. Does she work there or live there or something? Doesn’t she have anything else to do with her time besides stalk baseball players?

  “It’s just a photo.” Bridget turns her camera back on and I’m sure she can see my full blown mental breakdown on the verge of commencing.

  “Two photos. What if he’s dating her?”

  “Two pictures doesn’t make a relationship. She’s probably just a fan.”

  “Of his dick, maybe.” This time Bridget rolls her blue eyes aggressively. “You don’t know how good his dick game was, okay?”

  “Then maybe you shouldn’t have said goodbye to him again.”

  I close my eyes and think back to the last time I saw him, a year ago, after the funeral.

  I pull my dress back over my head to cover and protect myself. My heart is already split in two; now I need to try to put it back together.

  “I miss you, Lila.” His words break me. Tears fall, whether from the heavy emotions of the day or the reality of the situation, of the realization that nothing has changed. I’ve just made things more difficult for both of us.

  “This doesn’t change anything.” The words are scratchy as they fight me, not wanting to leave my lips.

  “It changes everything. You feel it too, I know you do. You’re as scared as I am. This whole Jimmy thing…it does change things. This only solidified what I already know. I don’t want to be apart from you.”

  “Do you think this is what I want? I want to be with you, of course I do. It’s…it’s more complicated than that.” There is another way…but I’m not there yet. I can’t make him a promise because I don’t know if I’ll be able to keep it.

  “It doesn’t have to be.”

  “But it is, Hollis. I’m sorry.” For now, it does have to be this way. But I don’t tell him that.

  He runs a hand through his hair and reaches down to pull his pants back up. He snatches his shirt off the floor and storms out the door before even putting it on. The slam against the wood frame makes me jump.

  Despite being off from work, I change and head back to the hospital, but not before writing a note for Hollis. Who knows if he’s even coming back tonight, but there’s so much more I need to say.

  With shaky hands on a tear-stained page, I write everything down. My feelings, my plan, all of it. He needs to know I’m working toward us.

  But…I scrap it, crumbling the page and tossing it in the trash. This note is me asking him to wait for me. I can’t ask him to do that.

  Instead, I start a new note. I leave it simply, with a bunch of I’m sorrys and I tell him I’ll miss him. I mean every word, I leave it on the kitchen island where it’s easily visible and I head out the door.

  “I had a plan.” My voice sounds small and stupid. I’m embarrassed to even mutter the words.

  “That’s great and all, but was he aware of this plan?” I bite my lip and shake my head. “Then you can’t be mad at him for going out and living his life and dating girls like her.”

  “I didn’t want him to wait for me.”

  “Why? Because you know he would’ve? Which was it, Lila? Either you want him to live his life or you want him to wait for you, but for some reason, it doesn’t seem like you want him to do either. If I can’t even figure you out, how do you expect him to?”

  I tip my head back in frustration. She makes a good point.

  “God, why am I such a fuck up? Why can’t I ever sort out my feelings before it’s too late? He’s a man and even he knew what he wanted.”

  “Well, women are more complicated. It’s the curse of the vagina.”

  I laugh and make a mental note to visit my best friend more often. These brief FaceTime calls aren’t nearly enough to fill my Bridget fix.

  “Your plan is still in action, right? You talked to your boss and you’re good to go?” I nod and a broad smile pulls at my lips. I just hope I’m not too late. “Are you all packed?”

  “Yup. Wish me luck.”

  “You don’t need luck. You have fate on your side.” My eyebrows crinkle and my lips pull up into a disgusted look. “Yeah, you’re right. It felt weird to say. I’m better at the tough love.”

  We hang up and I wait for my Uber to get here. Next stop, Houston.

  I feel like Rachel on her way to Ross’ wedding with Emily, bursting at the seams to tell her best friend she’s in love with him and pray it’s not too late.

  I just hope Hollis isn’t getting married when I show up.

  I was frugal and only packed a carryon for now. Though, if things go as planned, a lot more of my things will have to be sent down here. I breathe in the fresh Texas air and rush to my hotel. I want to wash the scent of travel off of me before reuniting with Hollis. That’s the goal, anyway. So long as he will see me.

  I pull out my jeans and my brand new navy blue Astros shirt with the nam
e Graham spelled out across the back. I reach into my bag for one more very important item and put it in my purse before heading to the stadium. It’s the first home game of the season for the Astros and I wanted to be here for that reason.

  I get to the stadium early enough to see the home team still warming up. I spot Hollis on the field in an instant. He looks so handsome in his uniform I could cry. I’m banking on the fact that he loves to give autographs. At least, he used to for the Red Sox. I’m hoping he hasn’t changed. Hell, I’ll yell for him all day if I have to. I don’t care about the mass of other girls surrounding me, yearning for his attention.

  As soon as the team stops warming up, a couple of the guys jog over to the stands to the swarm of fans with baseballs and t-shirts and markers clutched in outstretched arms. Another player comes toward where I’m standing and Hollis walks to the other side. Fuck. A slight panic starts to climb up my throat as I realize my plan is dissolving before my eyes.

  I push around the people behind me, which isn’t hard considering they all want to get to the front—to the player standing almost directly in front of me. I walk up one step to see where Hollis went to. I lost him in the crowd. I head toward the opening of the dugout. He has to pass by here eventually anyway. I wait, impatience making my skin crawl. I spot him as he’s signing a baseball for a little boy and my heart swells at the sight. The minute he steps away, I make my move.

  “Eighteen!” I yell, shoving people out of the way to lean on top of the dugout. Luckily, even with the transfer he was able to keep his old number. “Hey, Graham!” I call again, getting his attention. I can’t stop the shy smile from pulling at my lips. I pull the ball out of my bag and toss it to him, waiting for him to glance down and for recognition to dawn.

  A ghost of a smile pulls at the corner of his mouth. He spins the ball in his hand and must see the script written in his own handwriting. Though I added a question mark.

  Wait for me after the game?

  “What are you doing here?” His brows are pulled together in confusion, but he’s still smiling. I take that as a good sign.

  “I’m here for you.” He opens his mouth, ready to ask me a million questions, I’m sure. I motion to the ball in his hand. “After the game.” He nods and jogs into his dugout.

  I endure what feels like the longest game of my life. My nerves are shot and I’m tempted to have a drink to chill the eff out, but I refrain. I want to be perfectly clear when I talk to Hollis. I don’t want him to think anything is influencing my decision. Unless he turns me down. Then I’ll walk into the first bar I can find and drown my sorrows in a bottle of tequila.

  With my luck I’ll probably run into the blonde bimbo, wherever it is she works.

  Like before, I wait at the entrance of the stadium for him to appear. I sigh the minute I see him emerge from the shadows. He has no right to look so damn good.

  “Hey,” I say, my hands in my back pockets and feeling as comfortable as a teenager buying a pregnancy test.

  “Hey.” His eyes rake over me and a full blown devilish smirk lifts the corner of his mouth.

  I’m waiting for him to say something, to initiate the next move on where to go. I’m ready to burst and if we don’t get out of here soon, I’m going to word vomit my emotions all over the place. I had a plan. I wanted it to be special and romantic and for him to be unable to turn me away.

  Now, I’m standing here with him and I’m not sure if location even matters. Maybe I’m thinking too much into it. Maybe Rachel Green was right and people just like to hear that you love them, no matter the time or place.

  “So, did you want to talk here, or…?”

  “I love you, Hollis.” There’s the word vomit. I cover my mouth, but it’s already out in the world. “I do and I tried so hard not to. I tried to ignore my feelings, to mash them down and push them away, but nothing worked. Nothing was going to work because I love you and I want to be with you and we finally can…if that’s still what you want.”

  His smile is contagious. In two strides, he wraps his arms around me and picks me up, spinning me around and holding me flush against him. My lips find his and I kiss him and I don’t stop kissing him until I’m dizzy and drunk off his tongue.

  He sets me back down but continues to hold my hands. “What are you talking about?” Kiss first, ask questions later. I like his method. “You have work and you love living in Boston and—”

  “Boston is nothing without you. God, that sounds so cheesy, but I didn’t realize how true it was until you left. I’m empty without you there. The apartment, your apartment, is full of ghosts and memories of us. It was never my home. Not alone, anyway… As for work, well, I kind of worked all of it out. I made a plan...”

  “A plan?” He hasn’t stopped smiling and neither have I.

  “Last year, after the funeral and you stormed out, I wrote you this note.” When I got back home, the note I’d left was still in exactly the same spot as if it was never even seen.

  “I know. I saw it.”

  “And you just left it there? For the past year, I wasn’t even sure if you read it. It was never touched. I wanted so badly to reach out and ask you—”

  “But you never did. Why?”

  “I don’t know anymore.” It’s true. I thought I’d wanted to give him space, but I also never wanted him to move on. I’m a walking contradiction. “You didn’t call either.” My voice is low and full of emotion I’m not sure I even have a right to. I’m the one who ended things with us. I should’ve been the one to reach out.

  “I was giving you space.” I let out a small chuckle to myself. It’s like he and I share one brain. “I read the note, Lila. Not that fake apology note left on the counter. The real note.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “The one you threw in the trash.”

  “You went through the trash?”

  “It’s not like I was rifling through it digging for gold. Listen, you left one note on the counter and I saw a wadded up piece of paper on top of the garbage. I got curious.” I’m a little grossed out, but I mostly can’t believe he saw the real note and I didn’t notice it was no longer in the bin. “That’s why I gave you space. I knew you had a plan and you’d come for me eventually.”

  I step back and look up at him and see a glimmer in his eyes. Walking hand in hand, he leads me to his car and I don’t stop him. I don’t even care if he takes me back to his place because we still have a lot to talk about.

  “I didn’t want to ask you to wait for me.”

  “Well, I did and I would’ve anyway. I wasn’t done fighting for you, Lila.” He pulls out onto the highway and I watch him behind the wheel. There’s something so sexy about a man driving. “Besides, I got some good advice and I couldn’t let it…or you…slip away.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Remember when we were at the funeral and Melissa whispered in my ear?” I won’t lie, it drove me crazy, but I didn’t think it was my place to ask what she said to him. He continues without making me answer. “She told me not to give up on you, that the way we look at each other is how she and Jimmy used to look. She made me promise I wouldn’t fuck it up and I’d get you back no matter what and no matter how long it took.” My eyes tear up at the thought. I can’t believe she said that to him.

  “I’m glad you listened to her. And that you found my note.” I don’t know if he would’ve held on without it. After another few minutes of silence, he pulls up to a building I assume is his new place. He throws the car in park and leads the way.

  We’re quiet in the elevator, though the tension is building. I want to jump his goddamn bones, but I need patience. Easier said than done.

  His new place is a very similar layout to his last place in Boston. There’s a wide open view, the living room and kitchen are a full open floor plan and there’s a hall down one side. I let my mind wander about following the hallway to his bedroom and the activities I can’t wait to participate in later.

 
“Wait, what about work?” I let go of my dirty thoughts as he speaks to get back to the conversation at hand. “I know how much you love your job and how hard you worked. I know I wanted you to move with me before, but I would never force you to do that. I don’t want you to give up your dream. I know firsthand how scary that thought is.” He leads me to the sofa and I turn to face him. We can’t stop touching and I don’t want to. I want his hands everywhere, all over me…focus, Lila.

  “I’m not giving up on my dream. I can become a travel nurse, which means I get to pick and choose where I work in spurts. Usually the assignments last about twelve weeks at a time and I can take time off between them. Which means sometimes I can travel with you and I can live with you full time. If you get transferred again, I can work in that city next. Hollis, this is what I’ve been working on. I can still do everything I love and be with you. I needed to work at Mass Gen for at least a year in my field and I’ve met that requirement. My boss even helped set me up with an agency to find my first placement down here. If this is still what you want?”

  He’s been awfully quiet and suddenly my nerves are getting the best of me.

  “Are you kidding? Lila, this is perfect.” He grabs my face and kisses me, leaving me senseless. “I just wish you would’ve told me sooner.”

  “I didn’t want to hold you back or ask you to wait for me. It seems silly now.” I shrug. “I think I really needed to focus on me and my career this past year. We could’ve continued as we were long distance, but…I needed the clarity. I needed to know I was doing this for me and not for you.”

  He pulls me into his lap and I straddle him. I recall the last time we were on a couch we were in a similar position.

  “You’re sure this is what you want?” I nod, my eyelids growing heavy along with the building desire coursing through me. “And you just think I’m going to let you move in with me? I mean, it’s a bit fast, don’t you think?”

 

‹ Prev