The Bad Baller Collection

by Kiss, Tabatha

  I think fast. “Oh, I had to run out early for new shampoo. The motel stuff is starting to eat my scalp—”

  “So, the editors at the magazine are quite impressed with the shots you’ve sent in so far,” she says, talking over me.

  “Really?”

  “And I must admit…” she forces the words out, “I don’t think they’re that bad, either.”

  “Wow, thank you, Trisha,” I say, feeling my cheeks burn red. “That means a lot coming from you.”

  “I know. I had my doubts about you at first, but we get along well enough.”

  “Well enough for what?”

  She smiles. “The magazine wants to bring you on full-time.”

  My heart pounds. “They do?”

  “Our New York guy is getting sick of commuting around New England — and who could blame him — but you live in Hartford. Any plans to move anytime soon?”

  “No, none.”

  “Good. You’ll still answer to me. After baseball season, I’ll have you shoot the university teams up there. The Harvard and Yale boys always bring in readers. You like football, right?”

  I frown. “Eh…”

  “Yeah, me neither. But it’s a job and someone’s gotta do it. Might as well be you, right?”

  “Yes,” I say, forcing the laugh from bursting out. “Holy shit, yes.”

  “That’s the spirit!” She lays her sunglasses back down on her nose. “Now, run along. Take some sexy pictures for me.”

  I turn around and walk away from her, but I don’t feel the sensation of it at all. My senses are frozen solid — stuck fast in this moment.

  It’s all happening. Everything I’ve worked for; every shift at the photo studio, every damn step I’ve taken has finally paid off. Sports Illuminated magazine wants me. My photos will be seen all over the country, in magazines and online, and it never would have happened if I hadn’t have met—

  The crowd bursts around me with screams and waving hands. All eyes turn to the sky and I follow them to see a baseball firing toward our section.

  I flinch, succumbing to a post-traumatic stress I didn’t know I had, as a man a few rows ahead raises his gloved hand upward and catches it without any trouble at all.

  Hunter.

  I look to the diamond and there he is, taking his sweet time around the bases as he waves to his beloved fans.

  “Home Run Hunter! Home Run Hunter!”

  I shake my head and smile before raising my camera.

  This never would have happened without Hunter. All of my dreams are coming true. I’m going to travel. I’m going to hang out with athletes. I’m going to become the Annie freakin’ Leibovitz of sports photography and there’s nothing out there that can stop me except…

  I lay a hand on my stomach and the new, fancy walls come crashing down.

  I can’t travel with a baby. Hell, can I even travel that much while I’m pregnant? Bending and twisting will become a problem the bigger I get. I doubt I could work with a baby — a baby is a full-time gig on its own. If I’m going to keep this dream job, then I’m going to need help. A partner.

  Ugh, I’m really gonna have to bring up that relationship talk with Hunter, aren’t I?

  Chapter 19

  Hunter

  Four home runs and a double play.

  I’m not sure which of those was more difficult to pull off but I did it.

  That double play was insane. Bottom of the ninth, bases loaded — as the cliché goes. Just when I thought I’d let Daisy down by not getting that double play, the batter whacked that ball straight to second base. It bounced right into my glove and I tapped my foot on my base. Bam, first base runner out. Then, it was just a fast throw toward first base and the batter-runner was out by a fraction of a second. A goddamn double play.

  “Hunter, let me talk to you for a minute!”

  I look up from the locker to see Bud waving me down. He gestures me into the office in the back and I follow him inside.

  “Close the door behind ya,” he says, lowering himself into the chair behind the desk.

  I take a look around to see Coach Carl standing by, leaning against the wall by the door. “What’s up?” I ask them.

  “What’s up?” Bud laughs and gawks at Carl. “This guy hits four home runs and he asks us what’s up? You’re what’s up, kid.”

  I chuckle. “I’m just doing my job out there, sir.”

  “And you’re damn good at it. I’d say almost too good but you’ve never once failed a piss test so what do I know?”

  I glance between them, waiting on twitching toes. The question was obviously rhetorical, but he stares at me as if waiting for an answer. “Thank you,” I say.

  “And thank you,” he says. “I’m having dinner tonight with some good folks and they want to talk to me about you. I thought I’d give you a heads up so you don’t catch wind of it elsewhere.”

  I blink. “Catch wind of what?”

  He laughs again. “This kid…” he says to Carl. “He has no idea how badly the major leagues are gunning for him.”

  “They are?”

  “I’ve fielded almost a dozen offers so far to buy out your contract, and that’s in the last month alone,” he says. “Each time, the numbers get bigger and bigger. I haven’t accepted because I’m damn curious how high that number can get and after four home runs and a double play — you can bet your ass the sky is the limit.”

  I force myself to breathe. “So, are you going to accept an offer tonight?”

  He shakes his head. “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because you’re filling stadiums, Novak. The league wants that to continue. That might not be what you want to hear but I want to make a deal with you on that.” He taps a stiff finger against the desk. “You play for this team through the end of the season and you’re guaranteed a spot on the major league roster next year. Believe me, it’ll be worth the wait.”

  “Hell yes,” I say without thinking.

  “You’re a good sport.” He grins. “I like that.”

  Coach shrugs. “I told you he would be.”

  A good sport. Hell, is there any other choice? I’ve worked years for this, and the end is finally in sight. I can wait a little longer. No problem.

  “Thank you,” I say again.

  “You just keep hitting homers out there,” Bud says, pointing that finger at me. “Another reason we kept this quiet from you is that I don’t want it to get to your head. Stay focused.”

  “I will.”

  “Limit distractions.” He tilts his head. “That might be difficult with that redhead following you around with her notepad, but we can always put an end to that article if needed. Just say the word and she’s off the bus.”

  I pause. Putting an end to the article would mean getting rid of Daisy, too. “No.” I shake my head. “Ms. Wells isn’t a distraction, sir. She can stay.”

  “All right.” He exhales and a smile crawls across his face. “Get on out of here. Go celebrate.”

  “Yes, sir,” I say, turning around.

  “But not too hard. We got another game tomorrow.”

  “Of course.”

  It’s all happening. Everything I’ve worked for; every practice swing of the bat, every damn step I’ve taken has finally paid off. The major leagues want me. I’m going to be a household name and it never would have happened if I hadn’t have met her.

  Daisy pushed me to be better and I worked harder because I wanted to make her happy. It wasn’t the important people sitting in the stadium today that made me focus; it was the thought of seeing her smile later on that did it. I had to see those little, blue eyes peeking up at me with pride and love—

  Love. There’s that word again.

  I didn’t want to bring this up with Devin before, but I have thought about this. A lot.

  How do I know this is real? How do I know my feelings are genuine and not just the work of the universe tricking me and Daisy together? Or am I tricking myself into feeli
ng it because she’s having my baby? Is there even a difference? Or will this eventually fade, like an old, worn-out baseball?

  I reach my locker and pull out my phone. My fingers instantly swipe open my messages, but I stop myself from sending anything. I want nothing more than to tell Daisy about all of this, but before I do, I want to know if there really is a difference.

  I move to slide the phone into my pocket but pause as I hear it chime.

  I need to talk to you. Meet me in my room.

  It’s from Daisy. This is usually a bad thing, right? A girl doesn’t send the we need to talk message unless shit is going down in some way. I guess I’ll find out as soon as I see her on the bus.

  I send a reply, writing it out and changing it a half dozen times until I finally land on this:

  k

  I slide the phone into my pocket and take off toward the bus. She’s already there as I step inside, sitting in the back and pretending to listen to Trisha ramble on about who knows what.

  We make eye contact for a second before I take my seat. She looks away first and keeps her head down the entire ride back.

  Shit, this can’t be good.

  * * *

  “Daisy?” I poke my head into the open doorway and there she is, zigzagging around the room to gather her things that have — once again — somehow gotten tossed around the room.

  “Come on in, Hunter,” she says as she chucks a few shirts into her suitcase. “You can close the door. I had it open because the AC sucks in here and I can’t stand this summer heat…”

  I nod and slide the door shut behind me. “Doesn’t seem too warm to me.”

  She scoffs, still scouring the corners for every item she’s got stashed around. “I guess that’s another lame pregnancy thing. I’m either too hot or too cold. There is no in-between.”

  I study her face. She hasn’t looked up at me once since I got here. “Daisy, you okay?” I ask.

  “Yeah, why?”

  “You said you needed to talk to me.”

  Finally, she halts and looks up. “Oh, yeah…”

  “Did you forget?” I chuckle.

  “No, no, I just…” Her face screws up for a long second. “I have something I have to tell you about.”

  I look down her body. “Is everything okay with the baby?”

  “Oh, yeah, yeah. I mean—” she sighs, “that I know of. Which is actually the best possible segue you could have given me, so thank you…”

  “You’re welcome…”

  She clears her throat. “We travel to Hartford tonight.”

  “We do.”

  “And tomorrow morning, I have a doctor’s appointment scheduled with an OB in town,” she says. “I hear good things about her and her baby-catching skills.”

  I take a breath, still waiting for the ball to drop. “Good.”

  “So…” she bites her lip, “do you wanna come?”

  Her posture stiffens, waiting on needles for my reply and I realize that this was it. This was all she needed to tell me. Her little, blue eyes shake, withholding a slight fear about what I’ll say. It’s adorable yet illuminating at the same time. I don’t want Daisy to ever be scared of telling me something; especially not when it comes to something like this.

  I smile. “Of course.”

  She exhales. “Yeah?”

  “Yeah.” I bridge the gap between us. “Why wouldn’t I?”

  Her shoulders bounce. “I don’t know. I just thought that maybe you had enough going on already…” She laughs. “It’s stupid, now that I think about it.”

  “When is the appointment?”

  “In the morning. Like early. I needed to get it over and done with before the game, so I didn’t have to come up with a reason to request the day off with Trisha and I don’t even know how long these things are supposed to take and—”

  “You’re being very wordy again.”

  “Am I?”

  “Daisy…” I lay my hands on her cheeks. “Relax. We’ll go together, get you checked out, and then get me back in time to kick a little Hartford ass. Okay?”

  She smiles. “Yeah, okay.”

  I wrap my arm around her waist and tug her closer to me. “So… you still live in Hartford, correct?”

  “Yes,” she answers.

  “How about you and I sneak away and spend the night at your apartment tonight?”

  She raises a brow. “Oh?”

  “We can order in,” I continue. “I know a few good late-night Chinese delivery places, if the baby is in the mood.”

  “It might be…”

  “We’ll curl up under a blanket and watch a movie that’s not scrambled porn.”

  “Honestly…” she licks her lips, “you had me the moment you said your apartment.”

  “Really?” My mouth grazes her forehead. “Why?”

  “Because my bed is really comfortable.”

  “Is that so?” I chuckle.

  “Oh, yeah.” She closes her eyes, daydreaming of it. “It’s big and soft and it smells nice and it’s nothing like these damn, cheap motel beds.”

  “I’m looking forward to a decent night’s sleep already.”

  “Ohh,” she moans. “Me, too.”

  I kiss her hard, holding her against me as she kisses me back. My hands roam her body — not that I could stop them if I tried. They’re drawn to her like magnets, always have been.

  She tenses and presses her lips together, pausing as if she wants to say something else but she stays quiet.

  “Was there something else you needed to talk to me about?” I ask her.

  Daisy chews on her lip and shakes her head. “No.”

  “You sure?”

  She takes a quick step back and sits down on the edge of the bed. Her fingers crawl down my shirt to land on my belt. “I’m sure.”

  I’m not sure I believe it but I’m not about to stop her from unzipping my jeans, especially not when she has that look in her eyes. “Okay.”

  Her warm mouth opens for me and I completely forget that I had something I needed to tell her, too.

  Chapter 20

  Daisy

  A decent night’s sleep?

  More like a decent fuck.

  It’s obvious now just how much Joey and Jenny have been holding back on each other in those thin-walled motel rooms. Nothing we’ve done has quite compared to that first night together at his place.

  Until tonight, that is.

  Maybe we just needed a good bed.

  I roll onto my stomach and grip the pillow to sink into it. “Oh, god...”

  Hunter lingers behind me, gently crawling over me and I feel his lips graze the small of my back.

  “I don’t think Jenny has ever been fucked this hard before,” I say.

  He chuckles, trailing up my spine with his tongue. “Well, Joey ain’t done yet.”

  His stiff cock pushes between my thighs.

  “Can’t a girl get a little rest?” I ask as his fingers crawl up my neck.

  He grips my hair and guides my head back to look at him. “I’m sorry, Jenny,” he teases, “but I can’t resist a perfect ass like yours.”

  Hunter guides his tip inside and I spread my weak legs to let him go deeper. He groans in my ear, taking a few firm thrusts as he angles his cock to rub my inner walls.

  I grab my pillow — oh, how I’ve missed you — and I moan into it, letting pleasure build in me as he whispers in my ear.

  “I can’t get enough of your body.” He etches a soft bite into the flesh of my shoulder. “It takes all of my control to not take you whenever I want it.”

  “Is that right?”

  “Every time you look at me, I grow hard.”

  “That sounds awful.”

  “You have no idea how difficult it is to run around the bases with a fucking hard-on.”

  I laugh even louder, giving in as he rails me a little deeper. “Oh, fuck. Keep going…”

  “I won’t stop until you’re screaming my name,” he growls. “
And then, I’ll just fuck you some more.”

  “That’s naughty,” I cry, feeling my core tighten around his pistoning cock.

  He chuckles in my ear. “And you like it.”

  My body gives in beneath him, tightening and twitching with orgasm. I let it roar through me and I scream out louder than I ever have in those damn motels.

  “Joey!”

  He keeps thrusting, keeping his promise to fuck me even more. I look back over my shoulder at him and watch as his face tightens and his jaw clenches. A few fast strokes later and I feel him burst in me. Ropes of warm desire fill me to the brim and I quiver as his cock throbs with satisfaction.

  Hunter props himself up on his outstretched arms, hovering above me as his breath heaves in and out. “Oh, Jenny,” he says, smacking my rear. “I love this ass.”

  I turn onto my back and smile at him. “I love this bed.”

  “That’s your reaction?” He raises a brow. “I make you come three times in ten minutes… and the bed gets all the praise?”

  I pat the pillow beneath my head. “It’s a really nice bed, though.”

  He scoffs with amusement. “Unbelievable.”

  I laugh as he falls onto his back beside me.

  Talk to each other.

  Rose’s voice isn’t exactly the one I want in my head right now, but maybe she had a point before.

  It’s far easier to hop into bed with Hunter than it is to talk to him about important shit. Sure, we manage to let life details slip into conversation during our dates but that’s superficial nonsense I could easily pick up if I stalked him long enough on social media. One of these days, one of us is going to have to break the real ice and bring up the elephant in the room — the one awkwardly staring at us from the end of the bed like a curious dog.

  Man, starting from the beginning sucks.

  I look over at his resting face. Tattered, caramel hair hangs down over his closed eyes. His chest gently rises as he takes long, controlled breaths to bring his heart rate back down.