The Strike Out

by Quinn, Meghan

  “It’s sub par.”

  “Bullshit. Your mouth is on my cock more than my hand was all last year.”

  My eyes widen in shock and he laughs out loud, pushing into me harder.

  “Oh my God—”

  “I know. So good, right, babe?”

  I push at his chest. “I can’t believe you said that.”

  He pauses and stares me down. “Is it not true?”

  I bite my bottom lip. “I don’t know. I’m unaware of the number of times you’ve masturbated.”

  “Here, this should help. Think of how many times you’ve sucked my cock, and then cut that in half.”

  I push at him again, but he takes my hands and pins them above my head. His mouth falls to my breasts, and his lips and tongue work over my nipples. My outrage quickly fades into the darkness, and I get lost in the man who owns every last piece of me.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  HOLT

  “Dude, stop fidgeting,” Carson says as we make our way out of Frankie Donuts. “You’re driving me fucking crazy.”

  “I’m not fidgeting.”

  “You’ve touched your hair at least two dozen times since we picked up the donuts.”

  “Making sure it’s not out of place.”

  “It’s not,” Carson says, annoyed. “What do you think is going to happen today? Do you think I’m going to embarrass you?”

  “I really have no fucking clue, man.”

  We make our way toward Lake Michigan to an open picnic table, me carrying the box of donuts, Carson carrying the coffees. Harmony is meeting us here. We had early morning conditioning and we earned the calories that are packed in the box. Normally we have weekends off now that our fall training is over, but thanks to some freshman getting in trouble with a professor, we were blessed with the opportunity to wake up early on Saturday and listen to our coach berate us while we ran up and down our turf field. After we were done, Knox pulled the freshman to the side and spoke with him.

  “You know we already met her, right? At the diner. What’s the big deal?”

  We both take a seat, and I say, “She’s special, okay? Really fucking special. And I’ve wanted to keep her to myself. Have you ever had anything so important and different in your life that you want to hold on to it for as long as you can? That’s how I feel about her. We’ve been in a bubble. I’m not ready for the bubble to burst.”

  “Then why am I here?”

  “I think she’s starting to get antsy about not meeting anyone. We had a fight the other night and she mentioned it. I know she wouldn’t have mentioned it if it didn’t actually bother her. We’re closing in on winter break, and I’m not sure what she plans on doing, but I want the best chance of being able to invite her to New York for at least a few days. Take her to some Broadway shows. Watch her experience New York during the Christmas season.”

  “Romantic, man. You’ve never offered to take me—” His voice trails off when his eyes connect with something behind me. “Holy shit, dude.”

  “What?” I glance behind me and see Harmony walking toward us. She’s wearing blue jeans with holes in the knees, a black sweater, and black boots. Her hair is in soft, natural waves around her shoulders, and she has a huge smile on her face when her eyes connect with mine.

  “I can see why you kept her a secret. Damn, man.”

  Damn is right.

  I stand from the picnic table and meet her halfway. My hand connects with her hip, and her perfume floats up, intoxicating me. Fuck, what I wouldn’t give for some privacy right now.

  “Babe, you look fucking good.” I lift her chin and press a soft kiss to her lips. I feel her smile against my mouth right before she returns the kiss.

  Then quietly she says. “I tried for casual. I didn’t want to look too dressed up.”

  “You look amazing.” I take her hand in mine and we turn toward Carson, who stands as we approach the table.

  He walks to Harmony and pulls her into a hug. He wiggles his eyebrows when he looks at me, and I know he’s kidding, but it still makes me want to kick him in the balls.

  “Harmony, it’s great to meet you properly, not while I’m drunk and looking for a patty melt.”

  Carson pulls away as Harmony says, “Not your best showing.”

  He chuckles, and we all take a seat. “Are you saying you’re a princess when you’re drunk?”

  “People bow to me in the streets.”

  Carson smiles brightly and looks at me. “Yeah, I can see exactly why you kept her to yourself.”

  Feeling so much goddamn pride, I scoot in close to Harmony and hand her a coffee. “I’ve never seen her drunk, but you should catch the show when she wakes up in the morning. I never knew dragons were real until I slept over the first night.”

  Casually Harmony sips her coffee. “That just cost you a blow job.”

  Carson clutches his heart. “Oof, man. Way to dig yourself a hole right off the bat.”

  “Not worried. I know the way to my girl’s heart.”

  She flips open the donut box and scans the assortment. “No apple fritters? You clearly don’t.”

  Carson claps his hands and laughs.

  I wrap my arm around her waist and bring my mouth to her ear. “Fucking smart-ass.”

  She chuckles and picks up a strawberry lemonade donut, one I know she loves. “So, tell me what it’s like to live with Holt. Is he messy?”

  “That’s right. You’ve never been to the baseball loft.”

  Harmony shakes her head, and I now feel guilty that she’s never seen my place. “I haven’t, so I need you to tell me what it’s like.”

  Carson eyes me and then says, “He’s the neat freak in the loft.”

  Surprised, Harmony glances at me. “Really? Because you couldn’t care less about my room when you toss your clothes around as if it’s a giant hamper.”

  “When I’m taking my clothes off, I usually have a raging boner. Not about to stop what I’m in pursuit of to fold my clothes.”

  “Hey, there’s always time to fold your clothes,” Carson says.

  “Then you’re not having mind-consuming sex,” I say.

  “I’m not having sex at all,” Carson counters. “So, I wouldn’t know.” He picks up a donut and shoves half of it in his mouth.

  “Hook him up with Priya.” I nudge Harmony.

  “Who’s Priya?” Carson asks.

  “My roommate. She’s actually seeing this guy. Well, sort of seeing. More like having fun.”

  “Is that why she hasn’t been around lately?” I ask.

  “Yeah. Also, Priya is often a lone wolf. She doesn’t do relationships at all. I’ve never seen her in one since we’ve known each other. But lots of hookups.”

  “She wouldn’t be good for Carson, then. He’s totally relationship material.”

  “How would you know?” Carson asks. “You’ve never asked me about my love life.”

  “That fact that you said love life labels you as a relationship guy,” I say, making Harmony laugh.

  “I want to impress you,” Harmony says, “but Holt has a point.”

  “Can’t blame you for being honest. So, enough about me. Tell me why you think this guy is the one you want to spend your time with.”

  “I told you already,” I say with a smile. “She’s addicted to my dick.”

  “I’m going to murder you,” Harmony says through clenched teeth, causing me to throw my head back and laugh.

  “You know, I’ve seen his penis in the locker room before. It’s not bad,” Carson says. “Mine is better.”

  My eyes snap to his. “Watch it.”

  Carson and Harmony now laugh together.

  “I’ve always dreamed of two men fighting over me with their cocks.” Harmony slips her hand over my thigh, easing my tension, showing me that even though she’s joking, I’m still very much hers.

  “Why did I just envision us whipping our pants down and swording it out?” Carson asks.

  I catch the large
smile on Harmony’s face. She says, “Now that’s something I don’t mind sitting back and watching. Although, I fear you might get poked in the eye, Carson.”

  Carson looks at me. “You taking cheap shots with fingers to the eye?”

  “I think she’s referring to my massive cock.”

  Carson glances at Harmony.

  She shrugs. “I mean, I’ve been poked a few times.”

  Laughing, Carson smirks and says, “Looks like I’ve found another best friend.”

  * * *

  “It’s cleaner in here than I expected,” Harmony says, walking through the baseball loft. Most of the guys are at a party at the football house, something I chose to skip. I’d rather spend time with my girl. “Did you clean up just for me?”

  Yes. I plowed through here with a vacuum, mop, and bucket of cleaning supplies. It smelled like rotten shoes in here this morning, but now it smells like a field of lavender. I know that because that’s the scent of the cleaning spray I was using.

  “No, not really,” I answer. “We keep it pretty clean.”

  She chuckles softly. “How come I don’t believe you?”

  “Trust issues? Can’t blame me for that, babe.”

  She needles me in the side, and I take her hand in mine to walk her toward the back of the loft, where my room is. I spent even more time cleaning my room—pristinely—making sure I dusted—yeah, fucking dusted—and I even re-folded my clothes in my dresser just in case she popped open one of the drawers.

  I open the door to my bedroom and let her walk in first. I have one of the rare windows in the loft that provides a lake view. It’s small, but it’s there. My queen-sized bed is neatly made with a navy-blue comforter and white sheets. My desk is immaculately organized with my laptop front and center. My mounted TV is turned toward my bed, with my Xbox tucked away. There aren’t many decorations on my walls, just some Brentwood Baseball pennants. Compared to Harmony’s room, it’s pretty bland, but it’s worked for me so far.

  As I shut the door, I watch her take in the space. Her finger runs across my comforter as she goes to the window to look out. When she turns around, her smile is bigger and brighter than ever. “You totally cleaned for me.”

  I pull on the back of my neck. “I mean, I straightened up.”

  She bends at the waist and sniffs my comforter. “This is freshly washed.”

  “Laundry day and you coming over here happened to line up.”

  She runs her finger along the top of my dresser. “You dusted.”

  “We don’t get dust.”

  She chuckles and walks over to me. “It’s cute that you care, but I would have taken you in your filth.”

  “It wasn’t filthy. Just . . . you know . . . lived in. I am the neatest one in the loft, remember?”

  With a smile, she takes my hand in hers and leads me to my bed, where we both lie back. “It’s really plain in here.”

  “Yeah. Nothing special about my room. It’s why I like your place so much. It’s comfortable. Whenever I come back here, it feels like a jail cell.”

  “I wouldn’t say it has jail-cell vibes, but it wouldn’t hurt to bring a plant in here.”

  “I thought about adding something homier after I was in your room, but what’s the point? I leave after this year, and I have your place I can hang out at.”

  She lifts up and looks at me. “What do you mean, you leave after this year?”

  “The draft, baby.

  “But you’re a junior.”

  I sit up as well, seeing the real concern in her eyes. Hell, I thought she knew this. “As a junior, it’s the first year I’m eligible for the draft. Shit, I thought I told you that.”

  She shakes her head. “No. I had no clue.” She worries on her lower lip. “So, after next semester, you could be going somewhere else?”

  I swallow hard, my pulse increasing, my nerves creeping up my spine, sending warning signals to my heart to brace for impact. “Yeah.”

  “Oh.” She sits up all the way now and swings her legs off the edge of the bed, turning away from me. “Silly me. I assumed we’d graduate together.”

  Shit.

  I don’t know what to say, how to handle this. Being the dumbass that I am, I just thought she’d know how the baseball system works. But now that I think about it, why would she know? She’s spent her entire time here at Brentwood avoiding athletes.

  “Babe.” I reach for her but she stands from the bed, her arms wrapped tightly around herself.

  “You’re leaving.”

  Knowing this isn’t the truth, I still want to at least calm her so I can talk to her. I say, “It’s not a guarantee that I’ll get drafted.”

  Lie.

  That’s an easy lie. Disik was telling me the other day how I could be in the top ten of prospects, along with Knox and Carson.

  She spins around, looking stressed and uneasy. “I might not know a lot about baseball, Holt, but I know you’re good, and if you’re up to be drafted this spring, then you’re getting drafted.”

  Yeah, wasn’t sure if that was going to work or not.

  “Listen, we can figure something out. It’s nothing we need to talk about right now.”

  “Yes, it is something we need to talk about,” she shoots back. “I’m not about to get involved further in this relationship if it’s just going to end in spring. How is that fair to me?”

  What?

  End?

  Is she serious?

  My throat tightens, and I stand from the bed, wanting to be close to her, but she takes a step back.

  “Don’t you think that’s something you should have told me before we went down the I love you path? Like a disclaimer. ‘Heads-up. I won’t be here next year.’”

  “I wasn’t sure this was going anywhere at first.” When her eyes flash at me in anger, I realize quite quickly that wasn’t the right thing to say. Not even close. How the fuck do I rescue this situation? How did we get to this level of animosity so quickly, too? Although, if I think about it—if she told me today that she was leaving at the end of the school year and I hadn’t known about it? Knowing how angry I get when a guy hits on her, I’m sure I’d be fuming right now. But I’ve no fucking clue how to salvage this. She’s my everything.

  “So, what was I? A conquest?”

  “No. Fuck.” I drag my hand over my face. “That’s not what I meant.”

  “Then what did you mean?”

  I push my hand through my hair out of frustration and pure panic. “I was just trying to get you to go on a date with me initially. I liked you. Liked your spice, your sense of humor. I wanted to get to know you better. I wasn’t thinking long-term.”

  “And when you started thinking long-term, don’t you think that’s something you should have said? You know, when I met your parents, or maybe after we started hanging out longer. Or maybe when I let you make love to me with nothing between us. Or hell, even the first time I put my mouth on you. You had plenty of opportunities to say something.”

  “I know. Fuck, Harmony. I just figured—”

  “Figured what? That you could have your fun and then just move on with your life when bigger and better things came along?” A tear streams down her face that she quickly wipes away.

  “What? No.” My brow creases. “Baby, come here.” I reach for her but she takes another step back.

  “Don’t ‘baby’ me. You don’t get to call me that when you’re breaking my heart.” She sucks in a sharp breath as more tears stream down her face, snapping me in half and sending my damn heart into a tailspin. “Unbelievable.” She shakes her head. She heads toward the door and I quickly press my hand against it before she can leave.

  “You’re not leaving.”

  She folds her arms over her chest. “What’s the point, Holt? Why should I stay? You’re clearly saying there’s no future between us.”

  “What? No, I’m not.”

  “So, when you’re drafted, you’re going to want to continue dating me?” she asks, he
r tone sarcastic.

  “Uh . . . yeah.”

  She goes to respond but then stops. Her mouth closes and her eyes frantically search mine. “Wait, what?”

  I lean against the door, utterly confused. “I . . . huh?”

  “Hold on.” She takes a deep breath then wipes at her cheeks, her body language still standoffish.

  “You’re getting drafted in the spring. And your chances of moving to another state are significantly high since there is one minor league team nearby.”

  “Correct,” I say, following this logic.

  “And I’ll be here, at Brentwood, finishing my degree. But you don’t have any plans of breaking up with me. Is that what you’re saying?”

  “Why the hell would I break up with you?”

  She twists her hands together. “Because you’re leaving. Because you don’t want to be tied down. Because it might be too hard for you.” I have no idea why Harmony would think having a long-distance relationship with her would be worse than breaking up. This girl is my future. Alongside baseball, God willing. But I now see that she may not be willing to go the distance with me. I now see why she’s in pain.

  “Is it too hard for you?” I ask.

  Her eyes connect with mine as she slowly shakes her head. “No. It’s not.” Thank. Fuck.

  In this moment, she looks so unsure of herself. Her shoulders are turned in, her teeth keep worrying over her lip, and her tearstained cheeks are still wet, glistening against the dim light in my room.

  How could she possibly think I want anything else? How could she possibly think that I could leave her behind, that we were done?

  Treading cautiously, I close the space between us and take her hand in mine. I press a kiss to her knuckles and say, “I had zero intention of breaking up with you, Harmony. In fact, all I’ve thought about for months is that I can see you years from now. You’re my future. Makes me aware that I want this to be hard, because I know when we make it through the tough times, we’re going to be able to make it through anything.”

  “You sure?” she asks. “I don’t know what it’s like out on the road, but I can only imagine it’s similar to here at Brentwood. Girls vying for your attention. I know you’re loyal, but even the guys with the best of intentions might find themselves in a situation where they wish they were single.”