Strike: Bases Series (Book Two)

by Grace, Hazel

  “I’m fine, Freshman,” he claims, patting my knee. “You forget I used to get into fights all the time in college.” He flexes his jaw. “And as you can see, it’s been a while.”

  I inch closer to him on my couch. “Are you hungry?”

  He stretches his jaw again, still holding the ice in place. “I’m too scared to eat your pussy in fear that Colson will jump out of the closet.”

  I smack his arm. “Jake... “ I warn. “Can you be serious for once in your life?” He glances over at me with a somber look.

  “You didn’t tell me he was still in love with you,” he chides. “Or that he was there.” I wrinkle my nose at the nonsense of his first comment.

  Colson despised me. That was the only “feeling” or vibe that I felt around him. That and wanting to get his dick wet with the only pussy that he hasn’t had yet—mine.

  “He must’ve hit you harder than I thought,” I allude, leaning back into the cushions. “Because he demonizes me a good portion of the time we’re around each other.”

  Jake kicks his feet up on my coffee table. “You didn’t feel how hard he hit me.”

  “He’s a man, don’t y’all get bent out of shape with—”

  “Freshman,” Jake silences me. He lets out a staggered, uncomfortable exhale and turns his face to meet me. “Listen, I’m not going to bullshit you. I’m not a chick that’s going to feed you shit that you don’t need or want to hear. That fucker still has some hard, literally, feelings for you.”

  That’s not possible.

  Even though Jake knows of Colson, he doesn’t know him. I’ve lived the whole Colson Hayes experience, and it was up and down and like I was suffering from a bad case of schizophrenia the whole time. I knew every shade and side of him.

  And the huffy and infuriated one wasn’t my favorite.

  “I don’t know what to say to that,” I reply honestly. “I don’t see nor feel it. I’m just sorry he hurt you.”

  Jake returns his attention back to the TV. “I’ll survive. But not if I stay here.”

  My brows furrow. “You’re going back home?”

  Jake chuckles lightly. “I love you, Freshman, but if you want to spend a few more years with me around, you’re gonna have to let me sit this one out.”

  “But I need you,” I complain.

  God, I know how I sound. It’s pathetic, I’m a grown woman, but Colson has me feeling small with a fraction of defeat, fear, and starvation. Three things that I should be over, that shouldn’t even phase me now.

  My God, how much more time would have to pass before I can dismantle Colson’s hold on me?

  “You have Taylor here,” Jake replies. “She’ll—”

  “She lives over a half hour away,” I push. Whining again, really.

  Back to timid Sawyer. Rearing backward and right back into my safe space where Colson couldn’t get to me.

  “You’re relying,” Jake drones, flipping the channel. “It’s time you face this. You went to Cali for a reason, remember?” I jerk my head away from Jake’s knowing words.

  I couldn’t do it. I saw her in the window.

  Annabelle Turnstone.

  Colson’s flawless and beautiful girlfriend, dancing around in their kitchen window with her headphones in. She looked so happy, a small smile brightening her ivory-colored skin, and I was there to tell Colson that I couldn’t take it anymore.

  That I still loved him, and I couldn’t deal with us being apart anymore.

  I didn’t care that he had a girlfriend, I was going to be selfish. Profess after eight years that he was meant for me, and I’d spend the rest of my life making it up to him after one mistake.

  The one that chews me up and eats me alive.

  I was hopeful on the way there and scared out of my mind, but I knew Colson felt something for me. It was embedded in his caramel brown eyes, I saw it, felt it, and soaked in it.

  Colson Hayes was mine.

  But standing on the sidewalk in front of his perfect ranch-style home, I couldn’t do it. Seeing her happiness through that window pierced and swatted at every ounce of trust that I had in us.

  He moved on.

  She was the perfect woman for him.

  And I was about to become a homewrecker and possibly ruin three lives that night.

  I couldn’t be mad at Annabelle for being with him, it was impossible. She went to UCLA, was at the top of her class, volunteered at a homeless shelter, and ran charities to raise money for children with cancer. She took her grandmother to get her hair done, I saw the trend on her Instagram feed, and tried to cook even though she failed often. But more importantly, she made Colson smile.

  A true and genuine smile that I’ve only seen grace his face a few times.

  She didn’t come with the baggage of dating his best friend or the simple truth of being naive and stupid. Annabelle was a grown woman, independent and strong. I was the girl still living in Freemont, still catering to my perverse sister, not able to decide what I wanted to do with my life, and kept around a fuck buddy because I couldn’t get close enough to anyone worth remembering without comparing them to Colson.

  “He’s mad,” Jake professes, breaking the stillness in the room. “He has every right to be in a way. But you need to stand the hell up. Where is the girl who cemented his car to the damn flagpole?”

  She’s been destroyed.

  I fight back the tears that vow to fall. They’ve been cooped up, too. I haven’t been able to completely face the devastation from when Colson left. I’m still grieving us and haven’t gone through the seven stages yet.

  I never wanted to.

  I’m unhealthy and in the worst case of denial.

  “I don’t know,” I finally hiss through a strangled sob. “I lost her when he left me. It’s like she abandoned me too.” Jake nestles closer to me, brushing the side of his body with mine. “What do you think I should do?”

  “I think...I think you should let him sleep with you and let him get his anger out of his system, see where it goes.” I turn to face him, seeing him through glassy eyes.

  “You want me to sleep with him?” I repeat in bewilderment.

  He nods. “Yes.”

  “That won’t do anything, Jake. It’ll just make me...it’ll make me miss him more. He’ll take more from me.”

  “You misinterpret the power you hold over that man,” Jake reputes. “No man that feels nothing for a woman is going to do what he did and threaten to still sleep with you when my dick was—” I put my palm in his face to shut him up.

  “Were you ever dropped on your head?”

  He chuckles and removes the ice from his chiseled jaw. “Might be from the punch to the head a few hours ago, but no, I’m still pretty here.”

  “You’re insane,” I marvel.

  “You’re stronger than you think.” He wraps his arm around my shoulders and pulls me into the crook of his arm. “And you stole something from him too.”

  I scoff. “What, his heart?” He shakes his head and rests it on the top of mine.

  “No, his sanity.”

  Ten years ago

  She won’t speak to me, hasn’t even looked at me since her fight in the cafeteria with Camila.

  I know what she did.

  She stuck up for me and is beating herself up over it because she did it in front of her boyfriend and the whole damn school. Add my holding her hand in the front seat of my truck, and we’ve got a full-blown mission of evading me no matter the costs.

  I’m surprised she hasn’t shoved herself in a locker yet or pulled a fire alarm just to give me the slip.

  I wasn’t going to bring it up, we’re in this weird “are we friends, are we not friends” sorta vibe right now, and I’m not looking to stir shit up. I’m fucking exhausted from practice, mowing lawns on the side for extra cash, and keeping up with school. I couldn’t fuck with her right now if I wanted to.

  Now, if I could just exhaust my fucking brain from thinking about Sawyer’s words at Moonlight
Ridge, or about her in general, I’d be a whole lot better off. I could say my actions were a lapse in my judgment, but they weren’t.

  I wanted it.

  I’d take anything she’d give me at this point, even if it was just her hand in mine for a few minutes after picking up Gavin from the slammer.

  The shocker, though, was that she didn’t pull away from me and didn’t feed me a line of bullshit when I asked if she was happy with Gavin.

  Sometimes.

  I don’t know fully what that means, but it was better than her face lighting up with so much happiness in her eyes that there wouldn’t be any hiding or questioning it. I’m not going to deny that it made me happy either. I’ve wanted to kiss Sawyer since the day she tripped over first base and I almost fucking died from laughter in the dugout.

  Not an ideal boner moment, but she was cute enough to make me notice her. And I’ve kept noticing her throughout the weeks. I just followed the drool puddles Gavin left.

  We’ve never competed over a girl, I wasn’t about to start now. I’m just curious. I just wanted one kiss from the girl my teammates can’t stop spouting about.

  Her ass is tight. (Yes, it was.)

  They love her red hair. (They want to pull on it while fucking her from behind.)

  Her perky tits look like ripe peaches. (You can probably imagine they want to fuck those too.)

  Her toned legs, her flat stomach, the way she could whip a ball from left field to shortstop or first base with no problem. Sawyer Boyd was what you’d call inattentively ignorant when my team would cheer her on to score, and score her later in their dreams. They’d high five her just to feel her soft ivory skin and intently lean over her table just to get her attention.

  And apparently, I wasn’t the only one unhappy about Gavin dating her, but mine was for an entirely different reason.

  In the meantime, she’s gotten her seat moved in Mr. B’s class, eats lunch on another side of the cafeteria, and when she sees me approach, she fucking leaves. I’ve actually seen her dodge me in the hallways by walking the opposite way or quickly rounding a corner before she thinks I’ve seen her.

  I detect her every single time. She’s like a dog whistle that only I can hear. A color that the human eye doesn’t detect, but I’ve acquired some special power where I can see her through a crowd and immediately she stands out.

  Today is no different than the last three days of Sawyer’s anti-speaking to me. We’re all at an away game and shared a bus with the softball team, where Sawyer purposely made sure she was surrounded by her friends so maybe I wouldn’t have the balls to approach her.

  I have the balls, I just don’t want to fuck her up before her game.

  Team player and all that shit.

  The girls have already finished their game, winning against Stevenson, and are cheering us on from the stands. We’re up two runs in the fourth inning, and I’ve been trying to keep my head out of my ass with the Sawyer bullshit so I can focus on my pitching and our undefeated record.

  Grabbing a gatorade out of one of our team’s coolers, I sit on the bench to catch my breath and stretch my fingers. I’m tense, they’ve been cramping up, and I don’t want Coach to think something is off. He’s been watching me like a hawk lately to make sure I stay healthy for the scouts that will be showing up toward the end of the season.

  “Dude, we’re going to kill them,” Roger chats next to me, opening his water. “I’m going to try batting left handed tonight.”

  “Just hit the ball, man,” I chide. “No goofing off and fucking up our stats.”

  He tsks. “Tell that to your buddy, Gavin. He’s the one fucking around with that redhead.”

  “He’s been hitting the ball tonight, dumbass.” I size him up. “What the fuck have you been doing?”

  Roger turns his whole body toward me. “That ump made a shit call, that was a ball.”

  “You need some damn glasses because it was down the middle.”

  “Fuck you, Hayes,” he bites out. “You and Sheston can go suck the ump’s dick some more to get him to make fair calls.”

  I cock a brow. “Like your mom did with my cock last night?” Roger’s body tenses, he wants to jump my ass, but he won’t. He knows I can fuck him over with my antics and ensure the ass clown gets home schooled for the rest of the year.

  “Nah, man,” he gripes. “Like your girl did.”

  I scoff. “I don’t have a girl, you fucking idiot. Quit smoking before a game if you can’t handle the high.”

  “I’m as sober as a damn judge,” Roger claims. He’s wearing a cocky smirk, and I’m ten seconds away from smacking it off his chipmunk-looking face. “Sounds like you and Gavin don’t talk that much anymore, eh?”

  I death grip my Gatorade bottle. “Say what the hell you’re going to say, Alvin, or get the fuck away from me. Some of us have work to do to win this game.”

  “Gavin fucked your girl the other night.” My breathing hardens but nothing else can move on my body.

  If he says her name, I’m going to lose every ounce of my shit in this dugout.

  Instead, I just say, “Again, I don’t have a girl. Gavin can fuck who he wants.”

  There is no way in the universe that she’d give up her virginity to that motherfucking idiot that is my best friend.

  If she is a virgin. Fuck, I have no idea, I just assumed. Was this the first time they had...I shake off that idea from my head.

  No way.

  Sawyer was a million times better than to hand off her V-card to Gavin with no ring on her finger. Especially considering she answered “sometimes” when I asked if she was happy with him. She didn’t make rash decisions, everything was calculated. Even her stupid retributions on me were mapped out.

  No, Sawyer Boyd wouldn’t do it.

  Roger must be talking about someone else. I knew Gavin would never keep his dick in his pants for long.

  “I guess so,” Roger concedes, inclining back along the chain-linked fence. “I mean, it’s his girlfriend. You were just second best anyways, right?”

  Thoughts of Sawyer naked underneath Gavin cloud my judgment. Him pounding into her, mercilessly, because he waited so long to have her. Her moaning softly while she lays back and lets him get off in her tight—

  This isn’t happening.

  “Come on in,” Coach bellows from the field. “I still need everyone on their A-game.”

  I’m suspended in place, I feel sick, my stomach knotting in lucid disgust that Gavin was an asshole and Sawyer was naive as fuck. She had no reason to believe me before, I know that, but I also know that her no-bullshit friend Taylor has warded her off Gavin too.

  A hard slap on my shoulder brings me back to reality. “Gear up, man. We need your fastball this inning.” I gnash my teeth together at the familiar voice. Rage starts to stew in my veins, scalding and irate.

  “Don’t fucking touch me,” I snarl at Gavin. He chortles, grabbing his glove out of his black bag.

  “What’s up your ass?”

  “Did you fuck her?” I seeth through my teeth.

  “Sawyer?” Gavin fills in casually like it’s nothing. Like she’s nothing. Like she was just a normal fuck because she’s hot. He peers over his shoulder when I don’t respond back, his face scrunched. “Yeah, so?”

  I’m up on my feet, slamming him into his batting bag hanging off the fence. “You’re not even going to stay with her, why the fuck would you do that?!”

  Gavin’s eyes widen then his face reddens at my hold on him. “Why wouldn’t I do that?” He shoves at my shoulder, but I hold on tighter to his jersey. “Get the fuck off me, man.” I shove his back into the fence again to make it perfectly fucking clear I’m about to murder his ass right here.

  “She’s not like the other little flakes you screw, ass clown, she actually feels. She’s that girl that wants a relationship to last forever with the white picket fence.”

  “So you’ve fucking warned me about,” he answers. “Don’t worry, I won’t be cal
ling you about scrapbooks or her wanting to—”

  “Why didn’t you just fucking listen to me when I told you to leave her the hell alone?” Gavin grips the sleeves of my jersey and tries to force me back to allow him space. But I’m not budging until he...fuck, I don’t even know.

  He can’t turn back time and take it back.

  “Why the hell are you so mad?” Gavin gripes. “I gave her the best fucking lay of her life. She’ll thank me later for the shit I taught her.”

  My fist plows into his jaw, my adrenaline barrelling through my body like a freight train as I follow with another hit to his stomach. I don’t know how my back hits the gravel, but Gavin is on top of me, docking blows into the side of my chest and into my kidneys.

  A burst of energy rips through me, and I knock Gavin off of me by kneeing him in the spine then flinging him to the side. I’m on my feet in seconds, so is he, and I uppercut him with a quick knee to the balls.

  Yep.

  I just broke every rule in the book about fighting fair, but I’m too much of a trifling asshole to give a shit right now.

  I’m yanked back by my jersey, Coach’s screaming rings loud in my ear, but I can’t translate any of the words he’s spraying.

  My focal point is on Gavin rolled up in a ball of pain, and I want him to experience more. So much fucking more. I know Gavin, like the back of my damn hand. He will drop her faster than he swiped her up after this.

  She’ll be upset, cry, walk around the school with a dark cloud hovering over her, and I’ll have to see it.

  Fuck that.

  She did this to her damn self after I told her that he wasn’t for her. That she didn’t know what she was getting herself into when she signed up to date one of the biggest whores in school. She hasn’t questioned one rumor about him being seen making out with another girl because, here she is, still dating the stupid motherfucker.

  I’m done.

  Coach orders me out of the dugout, myself and my bag are thrown onto the bus. I’m suspended from the game that we were going to win anyways when I type out a text to Sawyer.

  Me: Your boyfriend isn’t going to be able to use his dick for awhile. His balls are somewhere in his throat.