by Vera Roberts
“Reality speaking, you shouldn’t. You don’t want to shit where you eat, Quinn Alexander.” She sternly warned. “If it goes left, it’ll be hell for you both.”
“That’s what she says. And I agree.” He paused. “But I don’t know, Mom. I really like her. We vibe very well.”
“She’s off-limits, Q.” Lisa warned again. “You want her because you can’t have her. If you could have her, you wouldn’t want her.”
“There’s some truth to that.” Quinn admitted. He sat down on his bed and put on his sneakers. “Everyone’s telling me to just be her friend and that’s what I’m doing. But it’s hard. Each time I’m around her, I just want to hold and kiss her.”
“Boundaries and limits.” Lisa reminded her son. “Always ask for permission.”
“I know. Keep my hands to myself and my dick inside my pants, I get it.” He repeated the drill Lisa gave to him over the years. “I still want Bobbi. It hasn’t changed.”
“Have you approach you. If you approached her and she said no, that’s it. If she wants you, she’ll let you know.” Lisa replied. “I don’t want to hear about you in the news, Q. That #metoo movement is targeting even old, senile men who can’t remember if it’s 2019 or 1919. You think they’re going to remember grabbing a woman by the pussy when they were 20?”
“Oh Mother,” Quinn winced hearing his mother saying that word. His mother has always been pretty liberal but there were certain words a woman shouldn’t say to her son. The P-word was one of them. “I need to go. I’m going to be late.”
“Pack condoms because AIDS and the other disease is forever.” Lisa warned.
“What other disease?”
“K-I-D-S.” Lisa nodded. “F-O-R-E-V-E-R.”
“I love you, too. Bye.” Quinn hung up and stretched his arms over his head. He had one chance tonight to make a lasting impression on Bobbi and like a fool he was, he chose the silliest thing a couple could do.
Well, technically, they weren’t a couple, but they were something. Every time he was around her, sparks flew. No, they didn’t fly. They exploded. And he knew she had to have felt them, too.
Quinn wasn’t like Xavier, who tossed and dumped women like they were garbage. He respected women, but he was cautious due to his celebrity and wealth. Bobbi didn’t care about any of that and he knew she was paid well to be a trainer.
If she wanted to just be friends, they were going to be friends, even if it really, really sucked.
~~~~~~
Bobbi made her way down to the lobby and looked around for Quinn. She took a seat in the lobby area and occupied herself with her phone until Quinn made his appearance. Maybe if she went on some gossip sites and laughed at the misfortunes of the internet famous, it would shake the butterflies out from her.
She didn’t know why she was so nervous. It most certainly was not a date. If Quinn wanted to impress her, he wouldn’t take her to some karaoke bar. Maybe he thought she could sing and sound like Jennifer Hudson.
If that were the case, Quinn was going to get the surprise of his life when he finds out Bobbi’s singing voice sounds more like Jennifer Lopez and she can’t sing.
Shhh….Bobbi quieted her anxiety that threatened to come out. They were going to go out and have a great time. They were two people, in a platonic, and professional relationship, and they were going out as if they were lifelong friends.
So, why was she nervous? She told Quinn they could only be friends and yet her body and heart were betraying her. She envisioned busy Saturday mornings filled with orange slices and Capri Suns, while Quinn coached Little League to pass the tradition off to their children.
She saw the family create their own traditions. They were going to be that family in matching PJ’s for every Christmas. She was going to direct Quinn on why they needed to hire a kid to hang their Christmas lights but he would be too stubborn to do it and insisted he got on the roof himself.
She envisioned everything for a man who was not destined to be hers.
“I think he’s in this hotel.”
“Are you sure? We’ve been to two hotels already.”
“I’m sure he’s in this one.”
Bobbi briefly glanced up and saw two women in the lobby. One was thinner than the other so Bobbi nicknamed her Peroxide #1, because she was pretty sure the carpet didn’t match the drapes. They both were fully clothed but Bobbi couldn’t say they were conservatively dressed.
The women wore form-fitting clothing that left nothing to the imagination. Peroxide #1’s sidekick, a woman Bobbi nicknamed Prolapsed Anus Lips, or PAL, was also a fan of butt injections and Bobbi couldn’t help but to stare. It seemed she was disproportionate in every area on her body. She was a plastic surgeon’s dream client with her build-a-body.
Peroxide #1 was a fan of the 90’s darling of belly piercings and had one she showed off every time she moved her arms, which was often.
Bobbi had been around enough athletes and sports team to recognize groupies when she saw them. Gone were the barely dressed and pounds of makeup. Today’s groupies often came in the form of IG models with so much plastic stuffed into their bodies, they were made from Mattel.
Peroxide #1 sat down as PAL stood over her. Bobbi assumed PAL was afraid to sit down because her ass might explode beneath her. “Are you certain Quinn is here?”
Bobbi’s back went straight and the need to beat a bitch down became apparent. She steadied her breathing and gripped her phone so tight, she thought it was about to snap in two. Who were these heffas?
“The Dodgers stay here every year, I know he’s here. And he’s often alone.” Bobbi felt #1 glance over at her direction. “And he has a certain type.”
Bobbi sucked the inside of her cheeks and resisted the urge to run back upstairs to grab a jar of Vaseline. “What is his type?” Perioxide #1 asked. “No one has ever seen him with anyone. Are we sure he’s not gay?”
“I’m sure he’s not. One of my girlfriends had him last year. She said he was one of the best fucks she’s ever had. He treated her well, even though they don’t talk anymore.” PAL stated. “They kept in touch for a while but then they fell out of contact.”
“Why did they stop talking?” Peroxide #1 asked and Bobbi felt the woman glance over to her direction again. “He’s not seeing anyone.”
“He’s super busy with baseball and charity. That’s all he does. If he’s not doing one, he’s doing the other. Plus, he’s a Mama’s Boy.” PAL shrugged and rolled her eyes. “If Mama Riordan doesn’t approve, no one gets past the front door.”
“Girl, I ain’t trying to marry him.” Peroxide #1 replied and crossed her arms. “I’m just trying to secure the bag and get my bills paid. I don’t care about all of that other stuff.”
“You should.” PAL replied. “No Mama, no bag. That’s how he rolls.”
“So all those rumors of him tricking some girl out are just that?” Peroxide asked and PAL nodded. “So, why am I wasting my time?”
“I didn’t say to go after him. I want Xavier but that ho is for everybody.” PAL laughed and Peroxide followed. “Quinn is just that – a conquest. And who know what it’ll lead to? You might be the one to change his mind.”
“Who knows? Maybe.” Peroxide glanced over at Bobbi one last time and Bobbi continued to pay her dust. Maybe before when she wasn’t working for the MLB and had a high-paying career, she might have entertained the dump truck duo in front of her.
Bobbi also knew whatever she did would reflect on the Dodgers. She couldn’t have those problems.
She thought about going up to Quinn’s room and warning him about his groupies downstairs. She remembered she didn’t know what room he was in. Hell, she didn’t even have his number. There was no way in getting contact with him.
Why would she care? Quinn was a grown man and he was capable of fending for himself. If he wanted to sample Glendale’s Worst, he was more than capable of doing so. He didn’t need Bobbi to protect him.
Why did she even care about
what he did? They weren’t dating. They were barely friends, if that.
It didn’t stop the tingling feelings Bobbi had inside whenever she was around him. It was like common sense flew out the window and feelings of warmth, lust, and comfort replaced it.
She couldn’t dare say the L-word. The L-word was a no-no. The last time she said that to a man, she was so burned, she had to leave the state. She would never get to that point ever again and already resigned to having a life with cats.
Bobbi resumed back to gossip searching when she received a pop-up on her phone. “And what the hell…?” Bobbi clicked on the email pop-up.
It was from Scotland.
Thirteen
Quinn was about to make his way into the lobby until he saw two obvious groupies. He’d been a baseball player long enough to recognize what to look for. They didn’t have the teased hair or too-short skirts and bare midriffs.
Instead, they wore skin-tight clothing that showcased the best money Beverly Hills plastic surgery had to offer. Swollen lips, an ungodly amount of makeup, and they always knew every stat about him. Not even Quinn knew those.
He hid inside the gift shop and watched from a distance. His eyes narrowed to the corner behind the women – Bobbi. She was reading something off her phone and her facial expression became angrier with each passing moment.
Were the women bothering her? Maybe. A few times one did glance back at Bobbi, though she paid them no mind. No, it was something on her phone. She read something on her phone and it bothered her.
Quinn wondered what it could be. Was it something Bobbi read about him? Or something the women said? Now, he was trying to figure out how to make her feel better when he didn’t even know the cause of what made her upset.
The women left a short time later and Bobbi remained staring at her phone. She put it away and stood up. She folded her arms against her chest and puffed out a few breaths. Now it was time for Quinn to act.
~~~~~~
Hey Bobs,
I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to get back to you. I’ve just been really busy with work and playing catch up on everything. I’m glad to hear you arrived in Los Angeles, all right. Are you staying with your sister? How’s your brother-in-law? What was his name again? I forgot it already, my apologies.
I have excellent news to share – I might be on my way to see you very soon! I have a potential client I’m going to meet in Los Angeles and I’ll be flying out there in a few weeks. I can’t wait to see my beautiful girl in person.
Even though I’ve been busy, I’m not too busy for you. I really do see a future with us, Bobs, and I mean that.
Best,
Sean
Bobbi re-read the email three times. She should’ve been excited to hear from Scotland. Days later, she wasn’t sure if she cared.
It wasn’t that she was madly in love with the dude. In fact, they’d never met in person. She was a part of a Game of Thrones fandom and they struck up a conversation about how the last season sucked harder than fifty hookers.
From there, they chatted every day. Emails, texts, e-cards…Sean even created a playlist just for Bobbi on Spotify. It was all music she hated but she couldn’t tell him that. It was the thought that counted.
He ignored her for two weeks. She arrived in L.A. on Tuesday and he was just writing to her on a Saturday. He had her phone number, yet not a single text or phone call. It was like he never cared and if Bobbi wanted to be real, he probably didn’t.
She wasn’t silly enough to think she was the only one, but she hoped maybe there was a connection. They both loved everything pop culture and were huge T.V. fanatics. Bobbi wanted to be honest and thought maybe Scotland was being truthful and that he was busy.
It wasn’t the first time he’d disappeared on her. It probably wouldn’t be the last. And for her sake, she hoped it was because she really hated the nickname “Bobs.”
The flying gnats also known as Quinn’s groupies finally left. Bobbi got up and stretched. She honestly didn’t feel like entertaining Quinn and she damn sure didn’t want to do some wack stuff like karaoke like he’d suggested. She honestly just wanted to crawl back into her bed and mope.
The guy she didn’t want suddenly remembered her. The guy she wanted, she couldn’t have. She was alone in Glendale, with unbelievable sexual tension. At least she had a sex toy with her. She knew better to travel for 30 days with no relief.
“Baby girl, are you single? Single?”
Bobbi didn’t want to smile but had to. Quinn brought out in her without trying. She turned around and was taken aback at how beautiful and delicious he looked. His fitted Dodgers cap was low over his eyes. He wore a black leather jacket over a plain blue T-shirt and jeans.
He was more gorgeous than before and Bobbi wondered how in the hell was that even possible? Quinn had the goofiness of the boy next door, but when he was serious and just alone with Bobbi, he became absolutely fuckable.
He smelled delicious. Like fresh, cut grass, summer rain, and earth. He smelled like he wanted Bobbi to drop down to her knees, service him, and damn it, if she didn’t want to. She was about to risk it all.
“Ne-Yo sung that song better,” Bobbi noted the reference.
“The New Kids did try hard, didn’t they?” Quinn stepped closer to her. He put his hands on her waist and Bobbi didn’t fight him. “They are the first ones that started the boy band craze.”
Bobbi ignored the buzzing that went off in every direction of her body. “Actually, The Jackson Five did that, followed by New Edition.” Bobbi pointed out. “I thought a music head like you would’ve known that.”
“You got me,” Quinn caressed Bobbi’s cheek and she inwardly shivered, “a slight change of plans tonight. We’re going to do dinner and then some of the team is going to join us for karaoke. Are you down?”
Bobbi was disappointed she wasn’t going to be alone with Quinn. Seeing how they’ll be with the team for most of the night, it wouldn’t be a bad thing. Bobbi won’t be accused of giving Quinn preferential treatment. “Sounds good.”
Quinn held out his arm and Bobbi raised an arched eyebrow. “It’s not a date, but if you think I’m going to let you open your own doors and pay for your own meal, I’m afraid I’m going have to disappoint you.”
Bobbi interlocked arms with Quinn and smiled at how natural it felt. “Is this for your protection or mine?”
Quinn smiled down at her. The light hit the amber of her eyes just right and he felt his knees buckle. “Both.”
~~~~~~
“I feel like I don’t know you.”
Bobbi was caught off-guard by Quinn’s statement. The pair took an Uber to a Korean BBQ restaurant and conversed on everything from politics to upbringing and finally, their shared love of everything music.
Even though it wasn’t a date, it oddly felt like one. It was just two people getting to know each other in a rather intimate environment. They had their own booth and other than the server changing out the grill, they were left alone.
It was a quiet restaurant and Bobbi understood why Quinn chose it. Everyone else would be at the popular spots or steakhouses. It was far enough from everyone, but still local.
Quinn wanted Bobbi to give him her undivided attention. He didn’t even had to ask; she just did it.
“Was it about me that confuses you?” Bobbi replied as she played with a piece of Philly roll. “I’ve been pretty forthcoming about everything.”
“Almost.” Quinn grinned and Bobbi shrugged. “Did you purposely keep that important information out?”
“What important information?” Bobbi questioned. “The fact I work for the Dodgers? Well, you weren’t exactly Mr. Forthcoming yourself.”
“Your boyfriend,” Quinn raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t mention one at all the night we were together.”
Bobbi put down her chopsticks and took a sip of water. She felt her anxiety about go through the roof and she resisted the urge to run. “Who told you?”
“T
hat doesn’t matter but we have a lot of mutual friends between us, if you haven’t figured out.” He gave a small grin.
“We’re not together,” Bobbi pushed out with a harsh breath, “he was someone I was seeing, if you can call it that. Nothing ever materialized. He writes to me whenever he has time but it’s not as much as it used to be.”
“A man will always make time for a woman he wants to be with.” He declares. “Always.”
Quinn’s rich baritone went straight to Bobbi’s heart as if Cupid hit a bull’s-eye. Her breathing became shallow and even though she was sitting, Bobbi felt unbalanced and worst yet, unnerved.
She glanced up at Quinn’s eyes and noticed how deep blue they were. They were so crisp and mesmerizing. There was also a bit of a smile within them. He wanted to see how she would wiggle her way out of his questioning.
“What’s your walkout song when you go to pitch?” She inquired.
“B.M.F. (Blowing Money Fast) by Rick Ross.” Quinn nodded. “It was going to be Scarface’s “No Tears” but B.M.F suits me better.”
Bobbi didn’t want to laugh but with Quinn looking like hot dogs and apple pie, it was hard to look at him as some heavy drug lord. White Boy Rick he was not. “You think you’re Big Meech?”
“Getting work, hallelujah.” He licked his lips and Bobbi was ready to risk it all. “I don’t know…I know it’s a song talking about drug use and hoes, but somehow it speaks to me.”
“Oh okay, fuck you.” Bobbi grinned.
“No, no, no, no….” Quinn looked down and met her eyes again. The fire was back within them and he thought about how hard Bobbi would slap him if he admitted how sexy she looked when she was mad. “…the lifestyle. I feel like that on the mound. When he speaks about a man being a sucker, but he’s self-made…that part.”
Bobbi met his challenge. “You don’t have girlfriends or groupies you entertain?”
“I don’t have hoes in different codes, no.” He referenced the song. “I have groupies but I don’t entertain them. I don’t have a harem, I don’t have a flock, but I do have my hand, yes.”
