by Vera Roberts
Focus. Focus. There you go.
Quinn silenced every hounding thought. The crowd outside disappeared. The coach chewing his gum and doing crazy hand signals went mute. The vendors went silent. No one said a word.
He needed all of his focus and concentration on this one thing – putting together a Duplo number train.
He could’ve easily followed the directions and he was pretty sure he would’ve been done had he done so. But he liked the challenge. Duplo Legos were about as easy as they could come and one would have to be a spectacular idiot to mess those up.
It didn’t matter to Quinn. He needed to link the trains together piece by piece, followed by putting the numbers in order on top of the train. Then, he could go out on the diamond. If he didn’t finish that train, everyone knew what a horrible game he was about to have.
He wished he knew why it was Legos that calmed him. Some athletes listened to music. Some read. Some studied a foreign language. Some were weird and did some superstitious stuff he couldn’t get into.
Xavier, being the man-whore he was, scored before a game and afterward. Quinn was thoroughly surprised Xavier’s dick hadn’t fallen off.
Angel always slept with the opponent’s pajamas or briefs. Quinn didn’t want to ask how he acquired those.
The catcher, and another one of Quinn’s closest friends, Kennedy “Muffin” James, lived up to his nickname. He had to eat two muffins before every game. Never big ones, and never bite size. Just two. Nothing more, nothing less.
Quinn’s ritual was always Legos. It didn’t matter what they were as long as he had them. Once fans found out about his Lego ritual, Quinn began receiving boxes of them. He had a room in his home dedicated to just Legos.
Now he was alone in the locker room with just his Legos and his thoughts. He put them together one by one until he was done. “Perfect,” he stated like a proud father watching his son ride a bicycle. “Now I can go out and murder somebody.”
~~~~~~
“Have you ever watched Quinn in action?” Hector asked.
Bobbi shook her head as she watched the game from the monitors inside the training room. Truthfully, she wasn’t a baseball fan. She loved sports but baseball wasn’t something she could get into.
It wasn’t that she hated baseball, but everyone has that one sport they just don’t like. Okay, Bobbi could admit golf made her fall asleep more than a few times. She couldn’t understand the great concept of walking and chasing a tiny ball for several hours.
What Bobbi did know was she was great at massaging and healing people. It didn’t matter their occupation or how much money they had. If they needed treatment, she gave it to them. Sometimes, pro bono.
“Why is he called The Answer?” She asked him.
“He once gave an interview about what the batters say when they see him on the mound. They ask a question with their eyes and their actions – they point to the sky, behind him at the stands, or they wink and blow him a kiss.” Hector glanced over at Bobbi.
“Trying to psyche him out,” she replied and Hector nodded.
“And when he winds up, they’re never prepared. Very few have hit off him. No one has scored a homerun.” Hector nodded.
“And everyone wants to be the first who does,” Bobbi finished and Hector nodded.
“You got that right.” Hector folded his arms. “No one can figure him out. They think he’ll go fast, and he does a curve. They think he’ll go slow, and he’ll almost break their neck with his speed. Every batter has tried to figure him out. No one has yet. They never will.”
“But off the field…” Bobbi didn’t want to say it but it was impossible to ignore. “Quinn is so…so….”
“Weird? Yes. He’ll be the first to admit it. That’s why everyone thinks they can punk him.” Hector revealed. “They think he’s a simp. He’s soft. The guy who had front row tickets to Taylor Swift and has her entire discography can strike them out?” He shook his head. “They try to troll him but they ended up getting trolled back.”
Bobbi became more enchanted with Quinn by the second. “Fascinating.”
“Very much.” Hector nodded up to Quinn. “Here he comes. He’ll probably take it easy here. He doesn’t like to overwork his arm and he’s still recuperating from past injuries.”
The news surprised Bobbi. Quinn had the stamina of fifty men, it seemed. He was on his arms most of the night in a variety of positions. He didn’t mention any issues when she massaged him. “Oh?”
“He’s had issues with his arm, but nothing to be concerned with. But it’s something we watch for. It might be overextended, but we don’t think surgery is a requirement. But he definitely can’t pitch as much as he used to.
“X-rays?” Bobbi asked.
“All turned out fine. We just think it might be muscles. It doesn’t bother him as much as it did. He didn’t complain about his arm since he’s been here. He says it felt loose and great.”
Bobbi’s heart warmed up at the thought she played a role in that. “I treated him.”
Hector turned towards his protégé. “When?”
“In my room, but nothing inappropriate happened,” Bobbi reassured. “It was spontaneous.”
Hector sucked in a breath. “Bob, you know better. You know what’s been going on in the media. We can’t have that nowadays.”
“I know, but he needed to see me and I had time.” It was the truth. Hector didn’t need to know what happened after the fact.
“The next time you treat him or anyone else, someone has to be with you, okay?” Hector warned. “It’s for your own safety. These are great guys here, but I don’t know how they get down, you know what I mean? You need to be protected at all times.”
It was treatment Bobbi wished she had when she was in Atlanta. And in D.C. And in San Francisco. People actually cared about her well-being and not look at her like a paycheck. “I know and it won’t happen again.” That was a boldface lie. “I told Quinn that and he understood.”
“Watch now.” Hector motioned towards the screen. Quinn struck out the pitcher in no time. The small crowd went nuts. “Most of those people out there in the stands are for him. They couldn’t care about the other players.”
Bobbi had no idea how famous Quinn was until that moment. It was surreal. “He’s popular.”
“America’s Son. Clean-cut. Doesn’t drink. Doesn’t smoke. Doesn’t lean politically one way or another. Listens to a variety of music and volunteers his time to a children’s hospital.” Hector blew out a gum bubble. “Couldn’t ask for a better role model.”
Quinn was America’s Son and he wanted to date a woman with a checkered past? It sounded like a match made in Murphy’s Law. Bobbi started to wonder if she was a fetish or something new to try to Quinn. “He’s just weird,” she finished.
Hector nodded. “Very.” Hector watched as Quinn struck out two more pitchers. “And he’s done. All right, time to pack up. Let’s go.”
Bobbi felt she needed to catch her breath. What was the protocol for people who weren’t dating but were more than friends? Did she congratulate him? Did she act nonchalant? Did she mind her business?
It seemed none of the answers were satisfactory. Hell, she didn’t even have Quinn’s number to send him an unsuspecting text.
The realization made it clear to her: if Quinn was interested in her, she would’ve had his number. She didn’t get anything but a sweet Dear John letter and breakfast. Well, at least she got breakfast. Some women don’t even get that much.
Bobbi gathered her supplies and followed Hector out. At least she knew where she stood with Quinn. It was better this way.
Seventeen
“How’s the arm feeling, Quinn?”
Quinn took a sip of water and smiled. He was in the middle of postgame interviews with the media. He was always gracious and kind, though he really just wanted to shower and go back to Bobbi. “It feels great. How’s yours?”
The reporter laughed. “My arm is fine but I’m not the one with the multim
illion dollar contract, kiddo.”
“Nah, it’s good. I’m under new treatment now so it feels nice and relaxed. I’m taking it easy but not too easy where I’m getting complacent. I have a great set of trainers here at the Dodgers and I’m just really excited about this upcoming season.” Quinn nodded.
“Quinn, do you feel confident about another World Series title?” Another reporter asked.
“Of course I do.” He shook his head. “Not sure if I’m understanding that question.”
“Adrian Taylor just signed with the Angels and he says he’s going to make it his duty to go to the World Series this year. He’s looking forward to being that question to your Answer.”
“I’m sure he and every other hitter in the MLB believes so.” Quinn blinked. “Any other questions?”
“What’s your playlist this week?” Another reporter asked.
“I’m still in the process of making it but I’ll definitely put up on my IG.” Quinn winked. “Thank you, everyone! See you later!” Quinn rushed inside to shower and change before he met up with everyone else on the bus. He arrived back at the hotel a short time later and went straight to his room.
He collapsed on his bed but suddenly jolted up. He wanted to see if Bobbi arrived back safely and if she needed anything. He thought about what she could have possibly needed and concluded she probably didn’t need anything. He just wanted to hear her voice.
He called her room and Bobbi answered on the second ring. “Hey, Bobbi. It’s Quinn.”
Bobbi wondered how she should react. Does she sound like a lovesick woman? Or does she sound like a woman of sane mind and reason? She decided to go with the latter. “Hey Quinn. What’s up?”
“I was wondering what you were up to?” Quinn nodded to Angel and Xavier who entered the room. “We just arrived from the field and I wanted to see what your plans are? I wanted to see if you wanted to go to Sauharo Ranch with me?”
“I’ll go with you, but it’s hair night so I’m busy doing my hair.” Bobbi truthfully answered.
“You’re doing your hair all night?” Quinn sat up. “It takes all night to do your hair?” He glanced over to Angel, who feverishly nodded.
“It won’t take all night, but it’ll take a long time.” Bobbi had a brilliant idea. “You can by the room and watch me if you want. I’m not lying.”
“I didn’t think you were. I’ll be over in a sec.” He hung up. “I have plans with Bobbi tonight.” He paused for a beat. “Does her hair really take all night?”
“Dude, I have four sisters.” Angel replied. “Hell, yeah.”
“I gotta see this for myself because ain’t no way…” Quinn gathered everything before he turned to Xavier. “I can borrow the whip, man?”
Xavier threw his keys to Quinn. “You must really like this woman. I never thought you would be taking her to Sauharo Ranch.”
“Why?” Quinn narrowed his eyes. “It’s a nice park.”
“I didn’t think she’ll last a week with you.” Xavier answered as Quinn rolled his eyes. “Yo, I’m happy for you but dude, I’m being honest. I didn’t think you cared this hard about her.”
“I do care about her. I just have to be careful about all of this. If this goes wrong, we’ll both be in a lot of trouble and we can’t have that.” Quinn grabbed his baseball cap. “I’ll be back later. No hoes when I get back.”
“I can’t promise you shit, man.” Angel shrugged as Quinn flipped him off before he left. He waited for the door to close before he spoke again. “I hope he’s careful with Bobbi. I heard things about her.”
“What things?” Xavier asked. “She seems like a good girl.”
“She is a good girl, but when a relationship turns sour, she runs. This is her third team in two years. Something happened between her and Adrian Taylor back when he played for Atlanta. A lot of he said, she said, no one really knows the truth. She quickly left and he was transferred to Angels for that huge contract.”
“What?” Xavier sat down and folded his arms. “Please do tell more.”
“I don’t know too much details other than it was a clusterfuck of a mess. Seems Bobbi might have given him preferential treatment and when everything ended, she refused to treat him, period. She ended up leaving a short time later.”
Xavier shook his head. “That makes no sense. If she didn’t want to treat him, she had a right to. They had other trainers.”
“I don’t know the whole story, man. All I know was Bobbi left and the Braves haven’t been shit since. So whatever she was doing, she was doing it right.” Angel shrugged. “But the girl runs. She doesn’t stay with a team long after she gets involved with a player.”
Xavier’s eyebrows rose. “How many times has she done this?”
“Twice.” Angel replied. “I know this because one of my sisters is friends with her. She was the one that gave Bobbi the Dodgers lead.”
“And she hooked up with not just any player, but our star pitcher. If things end horribly with Quinn, we’re going to be fucked for the Series.” Xavier pushed out a breath. “Well, that settles it. Quinn has to marry her before the Series.”
“Easier said than done, genius.” Angel sighed. As much of a beast Xavier was on the field, he sometimes had the intelligence of a spoon off the field. “And how do you propose they get married and stay married forever – not just for a Series run?”
Xavier grinned at his friend. “I’ll play Cupid. Neither will know what hit them.” He interlocked his fingers behind his head. “Nothing is going to stop me from getting another title and if I need Bobbi to be happy and stay put, so be it.”
“One thing, though.” Angel pulled up a chair and sat across from Xavier. “Bobbi’s most recent ex is Adrian Taylor.”
Xavier stared at Angel for a long moment before he spoke. “That asshole? Mr. Wanna Be Homerun King? The one that keeps talking all that shit about Q?”
“That’s the one. He left Atlanta and signed that huge contract with Anaheim.” Angel nodded. “I’m sure he’s going to try to psyche both out.”
“Oh, hell, nah!” Xavier shook his head. “I have fingers on one hand and I have three rings. I need about two more. Ideally, I would love seven more, but I need to keep it one hundred.” A slow grin spread on Xavier’s face.
Angel recognized Xavier’s grin. It meant he was up to no good and instead of trying to talk him out of it, Angel wanted to ride shotgun. “What you gonna do, man? I want in on this. I want my rings, too!”
“I’m not going to do anything,” Xavier shook his head, “I’ll wait until Mr. Taylor interferes and knowing that dickwad, he will. And the moment he does, he’ll become my bitch.”
~~~~~~
Bobbi didn’t imagine she was going to spend an evening being watched as she did her hair, but stranger things have happened.
As she began to part her hair, Quinn sat on the toilet and watched her. He was insistent he knew her routine and she wasn’t about to deny him. He was fascinated to see her full, long mane of hair part like the Red Sea with Bobbi’s wide-tooth comb.
He studied her technique: she created sections, put her hand in some pomade, he think it was? – and then smoothed the pomade over her hair before she braided it. She did that with several sections until her entire hair was in a series of braids.
She then took a scarf and wrapped up her hair. She mumbled something about why did she ever bother because the scarf never stayed on, but she tied her hair up. Now she played the waiting game for everything to set before she pulled it out.
“You do this every night?” Quinn finally asked.
“Not every night but often. I do wear a scarf or a bonnet every night, though.” Bobbi locked eyes with Quinn. The men she’d dated before were turned off by her looking like a regular degular schmegular girl whenever it was bedtime. Once the makeup was off, and the bra was removed, Bobbi looked like any other woman in the world.
It was then she realized how superficial men could be about a woman’s appearance even when
she’s going to bed. Why would she care what she looked like if she has drool coming out of her mouth and have blankets twisted all over her body? As long as she looked on point, that’s all that mattered to some jerks.
Bobbi didn’t want to ask but felt compelled. She might as well be disappointed now and leave Quinn, then to be disgusted later and regretful she didn’t leave when she should’ve. “Is this a problem?”
“No, not at all.” Quinn got up and held her waist. He looked into her eyes through the mirror. “I’m just curious to see what our daughter would be doing. That’s all.” He kissed her temple and left the bathroom.
Bobbi was left dumfounded. How was she about to curse Quinn out and leave in the middle of the night, bonnet and all – to being so eager to service him her mouth was watering?
When would she ever figure out who that man was? She followed him out to the living area where he sat on the sofa and flipped through channels. “So, what did you want to do tonight? My hair will set in about an hour, but then we can go out.”
“I have somewhere I want to show you. Somewhere private.” He motioned her to sit next to him and she complied. “I think you’ll like it.”
“Is my hair going to go get wet?” She narrowed her eyes.
“No,” Quinn shook his head. “We’ll be nowhere near water. We will be in a grassy field, though.”
“Ooh, that sounds like humidity.” Bobbi grimaced.
Quinn pulled her down to his lap and wrapped his arms around her. “Your hair will be fine. But I’m not dating your hair.”
Bobbi’s brain was trying to resist, but her heart was doing jumping jacks. Quinn’s eyes switched to a deep blue and she sighed. “Are we even dating? We haven’t been on a single date.” She raised an arch eyebrow.
“Consider tonight a date. A little backward how we’re doing things, but it still works.” Quinn stared into her eyes and felt his heart sigh. “Dress comfortably.”
~~~~~
Sahuaro Ranch Park was a much bigger park than what Bobbi had anticipated. She’d heard about it, but never ventured. Now, she was on a picnic date with Quinn; a guy who was more than friends, but not quite her boyfriend. Honestly, she wasn’t sure what the hell they were, but she liked how she felt whenever she was around him.
