by Vera Roberts
They were going to work together. She was going to treat him, as well as the other Dodgers. Quinn needed to be on good terms with Bobbi. He didn’t know anything about her treatment plans but he was sure she was the best to ever do it.
What a disaster. “That was before I met her, though.” Quinn shook his head. He knew Bobbi felt the same way; she just needed to be convinced. “Things are different now.”
“I bet they are,” Bobbi’s brother-in-law, Jameson, commented. His real name was Marcello but he was called Jameson because it was his favorite drink. “If she was all over you like a lovesick puppy, you would be in here bragging about how you’re the mack. She didn’t, though. Baby girl left you on read.”
“Cold. Blooded.” Xavier shook his head and tried to stifle his chuckle. It wasn’t that Quinn was a some nerdy homebody who didn’t get any play nor was he some smooth lothario who had a ho in every area code.
It was a rare sight for a woman to reject Quinn. It was even more rare for a woman he liked to reject him. “No wonder you’re feenin’ for her. She put it on you and then pulled a Mariah on you – I don’t know him.”
“Lied and denied like if he was Eminem,” Jameson shook his head.
Quinn didn’t want to admit his friends were right. He really didn’t want to admit he was dumped before there was even a first date. He didn’t even get the chance of having the awkwardness of what to do at the end of the date.
He had a plethora of corny jokes he didn’t share! “Sarah told me she had a boyfriend.”
“Scotland?” Jameson scoffed. “That dude is bad news, man. And he ain’t her boyfriend, neither. I don’t know what the hell he is other than a waste of time.”
Quinn stared ahead at the menu and barely acknowledged the server when she brought over the appetizers. “She hates me that bad to lie to me like that?”
“Or maybe she was trying to protect herself. I mean, you are a pitcher for the Dodgers and you’re in the Major Leagues, bro.” Xavier replied, even though he was annoyed he even had to say that much. “You’re on the road most of spring, all of summer, and a part of fall. That would give you all winter with one girl. And Bobbi ain’t stupid, man. She knows how athletes get down.”
“Yeah, all except this one.” Quinn took a sip of beer and shook his head. “Y’all don’t know what I mean. You never been in love like I’ve been in love.”
“WHAT?” Xavier slowly stood up as the word spewed out of his mouth. He reached over, grabbed all of the beer from the men, and quickly dumped them out. “I don’t know what’s in that, but apparently it makes you a simp.”
“Are you about to go all Lenny Williams on us, bro?” Jameson asked as he checked his Panerai watch. “I don’t have time for that right now. I need to pick up Sarah.”
“I can’t let her get away,” Quinn chewed his bottom lip. “I need to convince Bobbi we’re meant to be. But how, though?”
“Letting her go and become her friend.” Xavier suggested. “Don’t be a Home Alone. Don’t be thirsty. Get to know her. Be a friend.” He emphasized. “And then she’ll make the realization that what she’d always wanted was right in front of her.”
Nine
A shot of adrenaline raced through Bobbi’s body. It started at her toes and went in a maze until it reached her brain. Today was her first official day as one of the Dodgers physical therapists. She honestly thought she was about to vomit.
As she checked into the Wigwam Resort, Bobbi thought about the long road she’d trekked to get to where she was. The younger of two daughters born to Sam and Elliott Gibson, Bobbi always knew she was going to do things her way.
She wasn’t a typical girl who only played with Barbies. She often stripped them and massaged their plastic legs.
Her mother, Sam, was a respected psychologist who often treated her daughters as ongoing patients. It was never out of resentment, but always love and respect. When Bobbi expressed an interest in medicine and holistic treatments, Sam fully encouraged her daughter to pursue it.
Her father, Elliott, was a retired quarterback cum Sunday football commentator. He foot the bill of every success and mistake Bobbi had every made. He never complained; he was just glad she was never on World Star Hip Hop or made an embarrassing sex tape.
Bobbi didn’t have a sob story like some of her peers where their parents didn’t show them enough love or attention. Her parents were the type to go Christmas Caroling. Sarah ragged on her, but it was always love.
Yet, Bobbi continuously made horrible decisions in her love life.
Maybe that was the drama she needed. She had great credit, money in the bank, and other than trying to find a place to live, she didn’t have any drama. She wasn’t escaping from anyone or anything. At least that’s what she told herself.
Bobbi found her room and immediately went inside. She collapsed on the super-soft bed and exhaled a deep breath. She’d come a long way from hustling between classes, living off Cup O’ Noodles, and buying the cheapest toiletries she could find so she could look decent at a dollar twenty five.
She wasn’t going to blow any of it because of some dick.
She flipped over and sighed again. Baseball players usually hung out with each other. The trainers hung out with each other. The coaches hung out with each other. The odds of her and Quinn seeing each other outside of treatment were next to none.
She was overthinking this like she normally did. Quinn wouldn’t see her unless he had to and she couldn’t tell if there were any issues with his arm. Furthermore, he didn’t even have to see her specifically; he had his choice of therapists on the roster. He might even have a personal one.
It was too early for a drink and Bobbi felt she needed one. Tonight was the team dinner and then the spring training would officially start tomorrow. She would worry about everything then.
~~~~~~
“Hey, man, thanks for letting me room with you.” Star hitter, Angel Bradley, commented. He was a young Black man with a smooth fade, and a smoother goatee. He was considered a rising star in the Dodgers and popular with the IG ladies.
While Angel occasionally posted about going to some party and music festival, it was all-just for show. If people knew he love spending quiet nights at home catching up on Netflix and taking care of his ever-growing to-be-read pile he’d gathered, they wouldn’t follow him.
He knew how to play social media and quite the expert at it. “I thought you and Xavier would be cutting up by now.”
“Nah, I can’t hang with him. He’s my boy and all, but I can’t room with him.” Quinn replied. “Too many groupies and too much drama. I’m good, fam.”
“I hear that.” Angel plopped on the bed and stretched out his arms behind his head. “So, what about you, man? Don’t you have some fine honey somewhere? I’ve seen the comments on your IG, man.” He began to mock the various women. “Oh, Q! I just love you! Oh, can you marry me, Quinn? Quinn, what’s your favorite flavor?”
Quinn shook his head. “I have no one.”
“Not one fine honey in all of this land of women?” Angel shook his head. “Unbelievable, man.”
No, what was unbelievable was how quickly Bobbi shot him down without giving Quinn a chance. What was unbelievable that his one-night-stand is going to be working on his body preparing for the new season.
What was unbelievable…was Quinn never stood a chance in hell being with Bobbi regardless of the circumstances of how they met. “I can’t tell the difference between someone who actually wants to be with me and someone who just wants a good time.”
“That’s why you need to just have fun with it and be done with it.” Angel suggested as he opened Michelle Obama’s autobiography. “Everyone else does.”
“Says the man who reads about 100 books a year.” Quinn noted.
Angel put on his reading glasses. “I can read and fuck.” He turned a page. “Just not at the same time.”
“That would be awkward, yes.” Quinn casually tossed a baseball in the air as h
e laid in bed. “Are all of the trainers here?”
“I don’t know,” Angel noted, “I think so.”
“Heh.” Quinn caught the ball and sat up. If Bobbi was here, they were bound to run into each other. He didn’t want to start an amazing season with awkwardness from someone on staff. It would quickly travel and mess up the vibe of the entire team.
He quickly picked up the room phone and dialed Hector’s room. “Hey Hector, it’s Quinn. Did Bobbi arrive yet? She’s here? She’s in Room 1213, got it. Thanks.” Quinn hung up and picked up his baseball cap. “I’m out. I’ll be back before the team meeting later.”
“Tell, Bobbi I said what’s up!” Angel turned another page. “And yo, let me know how she is. I want to try her out later.”
Quinn was about to leap on Angel’s bed and knock him out one good time before he realized he referred to Bobbi’s training skills. “Um, sure.”
~~~~~
Somewhere in Bobbi’s past life, she had to have been a shamaness; there was no other explanation.
As she unpacked her oil diffuser along with a wide variety of essential oils, Bobbi wondered if she’d packed enough lavender for the trip. She’d two bottles with her, but athletes tend to love that particular fragrance. Oh, and sandalwood. The burly men loved themselves some sandalwood.
Athletes who smelled like day-old funk and would drown themselves with an entire bottle of the world’s shittiest cologne, were requesting some of the most feminine scents while she massaged their muscles.
It was then Bobbi stopped trying to figure out men. She just never understood them. She tried but it was like doing a crossword puzzle and she knew she sucked at those.
“I think that’s it,” she muttered as she looked at her oil spread, “I certainly hope so. I only have a few weeks here so that better be it.” The O’Jay’s “Love Train” signaled her parents were calling and Bobbi rushed to pick up the phone. “Hey!”
“Hey, I’m glad you called us to let us know you’re there and safe.” Sam Gibson playfully chided her daughter. “I was about to put an APB on you but I decided, ‘Nah, she’s probably doing her hair or she might have met some boy.’”
“Okay, I’m not sixteen,” Bobbi reminded her mother, despite how right she was, “and I was busy getting situated with the team. I’m in Arizona now for spring training and we’ll be here for like a month. And then we’re going back to L.A. for Opening Day.”
“Oh, that sounds just wonderful and exciting!” Sam gushed. “Have you met any of the athletes?”
“Yeah, I met the whole team. Well, I was introduced to them the other day.” Bobbi stated.
“Have you met the guy everyone calls “The Answer?” Gosh, he’s an attractive, young man! Have you gotten to know him? Is he single?” Sam inquired.
Quinn was single. He wore a size 11 shoe. He randomly recited “A Thousand Miles” by Vanessa Carlson as they walked along the beach and waxed poetic why Big Daddy Kane was the last true MC that didn’t disrespect women.
He was very single and mentioned that to Bobbi every chance he had during their fling, if that’s what it was. “Um, yeah, I met him. He’s a nice guy.”
“Maybe you two could meet up, go out as friends, and see where it leads to.” Sam encouraged. “You’re getting up there in age and I still don’t have grandbabies.”
“And what the hell?” Bobbi questioned. There was a knock at her door and she was grateful for it. She would soon learn she should’ve looked through the peephole before she answered it.
Standing before Bobbi was Quinn in a blue t-shirt and matching jeans. He gave a soft smile and all Bobbi wanted to lick his lips before she sucked on them. Sam rattled off some more mess about Bobbi’s life and how she needs to hurry up before her eggs dried up and fall out, but Bobbi paid no attention to any of that.
The funny feeling she had earlier; those tingles along with a wide smile and a weird feeling of bliss and magic? Maybe it was magic. Maybe Quinn was some voodoo doctor and his dick had the magic potion to make every woman sprung on him.
After one night with him, Bobbi completely understood his fan club. “Mom, I gotta go. I’ll talk to you later tonight. Bye, love you.” She tossed the phone behind her. “H-h-h-hey Quinn! What’s up?”
“I need a massage. My arm is feeling tight.” He lied. His arm felt fine. “Are you available?”
“W-w-why me?” She questioned. “I mean, are the other trainers unavailable?”
“I’ve had them before,” he met eyes with her and Bobbi felt Quinn looking right through her, “I haven’t had you.”
They both knew that was a damn lie but it wasn’t what he meant. The way Quinn said it made Bobbi feel an all-too familiar dampness in her panties. She quickly remembered how big Quinn was and how slick she came upon entry.
She cleared her throat to clear the feelings, but it was no use. It didn’t stop the crackling of sexual tension that bubbled underneath the surface. She was going have to be professional about all of this. Her job depended on it. “Sure, come on in.”
Ten
Bobbi wore no makeup. Her bare face was somewhere between just woke up and had that little sexy kitten thing going on and a fresh, bare faced look he’d always appreciated on a woman.
Her hair was in two puffs on top of her head. She wore shortalls and a tank top. Very girl next door, yet it wasn’t a try hard look. She was the girl next door, almost quite literally.
Yet, she was still the sexiest woman Quinn ever laid eyes on.
As she entered into her hotel room, he sat down at a table and watched her set up shop. The Dodgers purposely booked her into a suite so she could massage the players in her room, if need be. Quinn also knew he was breaking a major rule – Bobbi was to never be alone with a player without her supervisor. It was for her protection.
Bobbi clearly trusted Quinn enough to have him be alone with her.
She smelled like vanilla, strawberries, with a touch of Erykah Badu. She was hope, love, with a dash of spunk. She was old enough to know better but still wanted to go along for the ride. There was a bit of innocence inside of her that didn’t turn into skepticism by men or society.
She was everything. He was determined to have her. Permanently.
“Where does it hurt?” She asked.
“My heart.” He casually replied and Bobbi stopped setting up the table and sighed. “You asked and I answered.”
The smart thing was for Bobbi to ask Quinn to leave and not return until she had a supervisor with her. She didn’t want Quinn to get comfortable on making any other inappropriate comments.
Bobbi was never known to do the smart thing in her love life. “Physically speaking,” she didn’t look at him, “where do you need treatment?”
“My arm.” He stated. “It was feeling sore and tight.”
Bobbi nodded as she quickly jotted down some notes. “How long have you had those feelings?”
Quinn was tempted to say another cheese-tastic comment but refrained from it. “Two days. I think I overtrained.”
“You need to take it easy.” She suggested. “Train and throw. You should be on a 5-7 day schedule.”
Quinn was pleasantly surprised to see how well Bobbi knew a pitcher’s training schedule. “I am. It still gets tight from time to time.”
“Okay,” Bobbi was finished setting up her station. “Remove your shirt so I can give you a full neck and shoulder massage while I focus on your arm. You can remove your shoes as well.”
“Okay.” Quinn stood up and peeled his shirt off. He stepped out of his shoes and put them aside. “I’m ready when you are.”
Bobbi looked up at Quinn and gulped. She blew out a quick breath and blinked as she waited for her heartbeat to slow down to normal levels. She almost forgot how incredibly ripped he was.
Almost forgot? Who was she kidding? She knew his body like an astrophysicist knew science.
His tawny skin had a light dusting of hair. Quinn was lean, toned, and muscular. He kept in shape but
he never overdid it. She was inexplicably drawn to him and imagined how much she wanted to trace his muscles with her fingertips. Again.
Bobbi felt her breath hitch inside her lungs and blew out another harsh breath. The only thing that stood between them was air and opportunity and she didn’t want to act brand new.
His deep blue eyes penetrated through her and Bobbi wondered what Quinn was thinking. It was clear he knew he wasn’t supposed to be inside her room alone, yet they both broke the rule. If they were caught, the worst that could happen was a talking to but neither would get suspended or in trouble.
Bobbi wondered if she was ready to risk it all for Quinn – again. “I’m ready.”
“How do you want me?”
Underneath me as I wrap my lips around that big ol’ dick of yours and suck you down until you come inside my throat. Then, I won’t let you wait. I’ll get on top and ride that motherfu—
“Bobbi?”
Bobbi blinked the image out of her head. “Um, yes. On the table.”
Quinn got on the table and patiently waited for Bobbi. He wondered what her technique was. Was she hard? Was she mean? Was she gentle? Did she have a loving touch? He’d experienced all of the above with other physical therapists in his life and grew tired very quickly.
No one understood his arm. No one understood the enormous pressure he’d put on himself, day in and day out. No one got him. They saw a kid with a lucky arm, cheerful demeanor, and wanted to bring him down a notch.
Quinn would be lying if the thought of Bobbi acting the same way didn’t cross his mind.
“Music preference?” She asked.
Quinn shook his head. “I’m open.”
“Cool,” she turned on her Bluetooth speaker and a soulful, bluesy voice came through.
“Alabama Shakes, huh?” Quinn knew he shouldn't have been surprised by Bobbi’s taste in music. After all, she sung the lyrics to Sublime’s “Wrong Way” and waxed poetic on how Elvis Presley perfected the art of being a culture vulture before Miley Cyrus turned into a science.
