Sliding Home: A Baseball Romance

by Lynsey M. Stewart

  ‘I’m good, but how are you?’ she asked, rubbing my back. ‘Sorry, I forgot about your knee.’

  ‘Can we sit?’ I finally said through heavy breaths, pointing over to a bench. She joined me and we sat in silence, her zip front crop top taunting me. One swift move and her breasts would be free. I needed to remain focused, not be distracted by zips. ‘Jess, is something wrong? I’m sensing you’re not fully on board with this.’

  ‘Fully on board,’ she replied, giving me a thumbs up. ‘Happy to help.’

  ‘Is it the contract? Aren’t you happy with the arrangements? Maybe it’s the payment; I can offer more.’

  ‘Oh, no, not at all. You’ve been very generous. I did have a moment where Julia Roberts flashed through my mind but soon calmed down when I read the small print.’

  ‘Julia Roberts?’

  ‘Pretty Woman,' she said, like I should know what the fuck she was talking about. ‘She plays a prostitute in Pretty Woman. “Slippery little suckers.”’ I stared blankly at her. ‘Please tell me you’ve seen it.’

  ‘I’ve seen bits in passing.’

  ‘Congratulations,’ she said, putting her hand up for a high five. ‘You’re the first person I’ve met who didn’t get a Pretty Woman reference.’

  I took everything she said and picked out the relevant bits. She had a habit of throwing in every detail and I was becoming good at sifting through them to catch the bits that were vital. ‘Jess, are you saying this arrangement makes you feel like a prostitute? I’m not expecting anything like that from you. I couldn’t treat you like—’

  ‘Like what? Like the other girls? The girls you fucked in nightclubs or the back seat of your limo?' Every word fucking stung. ‘I did some research, Baseball Brit. No wonder you need me to save your reputation.’

  ‘I’m trying to sort my life out, leave all that behind.’

  ‘Is that why you didn't take it further with me?' she asked with a shaky laugh.

  ‘Jess, I didn’t want to treat you like that.’

  ‘Yes. You’ve made the boundaries clear. The contract makes them really clear.’ She turned away. ‘I just feel…it doesn’t matter.’

  ‘Tell me. If this is going to work, we have to be honest with each other,’ I replied.

  ‘Confused. Sometimes I feel confused. I thought we had a connection. You like looking at my arse. You get close. You smell good.’

  ‘Jess,’ I warned.

  ‘I know; you don't want complications. That's fine; I understand that. I want this to work out for you.' I placed my hand on the back of her neck and started massaging gently. I saw the flash of a camera. This moment was intimate and wasn't part of the plan; the paparazzi had no right to capture it.

  ‘No complications,' I whispered as my hand traced down her back to the bottom of her spine. I couldn't help but wonder what she looked like naked and if she had those amazing dimples above the curve of her ass. I wondered how she would look arched off the bed with my tongue flat against her pussy, how she would sound as I brought her to orgasm with my mouth. Goosebumps across her skin followed the trail of my fingers. She shifted from side to side and gasped as my hand kept stroking, unable or unwilling to move away despite knowing how I was contradicting myself.

  ‘Who are you trying to convince?’ she replied, taking my hand and lacing our fingers together. We pressed our foreheads together and sighed in unison. ‘You or me?’

  ‘No complications,’ I rasped, shaking my head to clear the fog that was clouding the plan. But then I felt her move away as she started to jog, leaving me feeling like the ultimate dick, questioning why I felt like I was losing her when I didn't even have her to lose.

  7

  ‘You’re fucking everywhere, Brad!’ Carl was smiling broadly; it was unnerving. I had never seen him so delirious. He held up a stack of magazines and I quickly tried to scan the headlines as he flapped them around the screen. FaceTime was something he was still trying to get the hang of. American gossip magazines were lapping up the fairy-tale story of how the Baseball Brit was finally turning his life around with the help of his childhood sweetheart. I couldn't help but smile when I realised our childhood affair would have started sometime below the age of eleven, before I moved to America, but when did gossip mags care about the finer details?

  Photos from the day at the park were everywhere. Other photographs taken over the last few weeks were also hitting the press: Jess laughing as I poured wine while we dined at a restaurant; Jess smiling as we walked through Covent Garden swinging shopping bags; Jess staring in amazement as we browsed the windows of high end jewellery shops to the sound of clicking cameras. The last photo opportunity was orchestrated to fuck, but with some of the others, I had no idea we were being pursued by the paparazzi when they were taken, and we looked happy, amazingly happy. Jess looked fucking radiant, and there were times I didn't recognise myself. The dark circles under my eyes were gone, my face was clean-shaven, my hair styled, and I was taking the time to make sure I looked good, finally taking pride in my appearance after too long. I knew it was because of Jess. I was doing it for her, and that both scared and excited me in equal measures. Things were shifting between us but I didn’t know what to do with the shift.

  ‘Good Morning USA want to interview you both. The sports channels want to follow your progress during training, like a daily video ready for when you rejoin the team. And I’m setting up an appearance at a kids’ camp over summer. Can you fucking believe it?’

  Part of me couldn’t. The plan was working well—too well. Things were falling into place; my knee was gaining strength with the new training programme, intensive physiotherapy was helping to stretch out the aches, and the news stories had a cleaner edge to them. I even found myself admitting that acupuncture was helping to calm the training aches. The plan was working, but there was an unease, a feeling right in the bottom of my stomach that something awful was about to happen, like when you’re expecting a phone call with bad news.

  ‘There’s something else, kid. Something so good you’ll burst a kidney.’ Carl’s words pulled me back from going down the this is too good to be true and will probably end anytime now thought process. ‘I have two invitations to Ray’s end of season party next week,’ Carl said, flicking the tickets between his fingers.

  ‘Coach wants me there?’

  ‘Insists on it.’

  ‘Fuck.’

  ‘You're starting to turn it around, kid. I didn't think you had it in you, but you're proving me wrong. Just don't fuck it up.'

  ‘Thanks, as always, for your vote of confidence.’

  He laughed as he lit a cigar. ‘I need you back in Orlando, kid. Jess too. I may have slipped out that you’ll have some happy news to share.’

  ‘She’s got a call back for an audition she had a couple of days ago.

  ‘Should she be auditioning? It could blow your cover.’

  ‘If she gets it, she'll be roller skating around a fake mouth dressed as acid bacteria; I don't think we need to worry.'

  Jess' agent had called her with details of the audition. I’d spent the night at her parents’ with her listening to her cry and soothing her self-doubt as she questioned if the toothpaste advert made the list of top ten worst jobs to date. ‘I could fly in next week, but Jess may be delayed depending on what happens,' I said.

  Coach's party was a big deal for me. It meant he knew about the progress I was making physically and the turn around of my reputation in the press. The last time he saw me was just after my surgery. I opened the door of my apartment to him wearing only a red kimono and leg brace and was holding a black stiletto in one hand and a bottle of Jack in the other.

  I sighed thinking about how far I'd come. ‘I need to get Jess a dress for the party. Where do I start with organising that?' I wanted her to feel like a movie star for the day; she deserved it.

  ‘Got it all taken care of. A hair and make up team will arrive at your apartment the afternoon of the party. She'll get to choose from a bunc
h of gowns.'

  ‘I should have known that a fashion trailblazer such as you would have everything sorted,’ I said, looking at him in his brown suit with something that resembled chilli on his lapel. He shot me a death stare as I started to look forward to seeing Jess in a knockout dress with an engagement ring on her finger.

  8

  ‘You look really pretty.’

  ‘I had to make an effort for our big night,’ Jess replied, taking a sip of wine.

  Carl had been drip-feeding the press various photo opportunities as a lead up to tonight’s fake engagement. The restaurant had been chosen especially because of the large windows. A table had been booked to ensure the paparazzi would get a great photo of the moment Jess agreed to marry me. Roses lined the front of the restaurant, almost framing the window in deep red where we were sitting, all for dramatic effect. I drew the line when a violinist started serenading us with ‘You are so beautiful.’ Typical Carl taking it too far. Jess laughed it off but I could see she was nervous.

  ‘I didn’t get the part. I heard today. They didn’t feel I connected with the baby.’ She auditioned for the role of a doting mum in a diaper commercial. She had to hold a naked baby, the aim of showing the audience the softness of the baby’s ass. ‘I argued that I didn’t think anyone would find a baby endearing as they relieved themselves on you, but they wouldn’t give me another chance.’

  ‘They don’t know what they’re missing,’ I replied. ‘I’ve been nothing but happy with your performance so far.’

  ‘Maybe you can give me a reference when this is over,’ she said, smirking. I felt a stab in my stomach at her words. We hadn’t broached the subject of when or how this would end and I knew it was because I wasn’t ready to let her go.

  A waiter brought over a bottle of champagne, another prop Carl had arranged. I looked at the label, saw the lights reflected in the glass and I felt sick to my stomach. I glanced at Jess, she looked gorgeous, she was smiling, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. I could feel the nerves as I took her hand and cursed when flashes of light from the cameras outside illuminated us. She squeezed gently, offering strength and understanding. She laughed softly, like she knew what I was thinking when I shook my head in annoyance that I was allowing her to be put through this sham.

  ‘Have you got me a ring?’ she asked, trying to lighten what was happening around us.

  ‘I borrowed one.’

  ‘That’s cheap, Brad. I may be a fake fiancé but I still expect a ring,’ she said, her lips trying to lift into a smile.

  ‘It belonged to my grandmother. My mum let me have it.’ Her gaze dropped as she started fiddling with the stem of her glass.

  ‘I can’t take that,’ she said, shaking her head. ‘You should be giving that to your real fiancé, not to me.’ Another flash from outside caused her to turn her head away, shielding her eyes with her hands like lightening had struck. ‘Can I just have a minute?’

  ‘Fuck,’ I said, standing, pushing the chair back with force as I did. There were more flashes as the paparazzi presumed this was the big moment, but I wasn’t about to get on one knee; I was about to get us out of there.

  Jess shrieked as I pulled her through to the back of the restaurant, the clatter of pans in the service area indicating we were safely away from the watchful eyes of the photographers. A dark corner provided the shelter that we desperately needed. She huddled into me, her arms around her body and her head down protecting herself. I lifted her chin with my fingers and wiped the tears with a sweep of my thumb. ‘You shouldn’t have to do this,’ I said as she tried to look away. I put my hands on either side of her head and kissed her hair as she pressed her face into my chest.

  ‘It’s fine,’ she mumbled as I pushed her gently away, needing to see her face to get a clue as to how she was really feeling. She smiled briefly before it developed into a shaky lip bite. ‘We need to get back out there. This is the big moment, the one we’ve been working towards for the past few weeks.’

  ‘This doesn’t feel like work,’ I replied, enjoying feeling her hair between my fingers.

  ‘You’ve got a reputation to save.’

  ‘Fuck my reputation. You’re more important.’

  ‘I am?’ she asked, her blue eyes widening.

  ‘You’re upset,’ I replied, ignoring her direct question. ‘Tell me why.’

  ‘It’s getting too much. I’m finding it difficult. There are so many…’ She broke away again. The loss was instant.

  ‘Tell me.’

  ‘Contradictions. So many contradictions,’ she replied, blowing out a breath. ‘You’re so confusing.’

  I turned away from her, pressing my forehead against the wall, her words echoing around the enclosed space until I couldn’t take anymore. She was right. Every word she said highlighted the battle I was having internally. I was trying to convince myself that our relationship was a balancing act, that real feelings and the pretence of love were merging together in a way that was only to be expected when working with someone as intoxicating as Jess. It was like an actor falling for their co-star, but as soon as the picture wraps, they go their separate ways, their love dissipating like the noise at the end of a baseball game.

  ‘Talk to me,’ she said, stroking her hand across my shoulder. ‘You said that for this to work, we need to be honest with each other, but I don’t think you’re being honest with yourself.’

  She saw me so clearly and she deserved the truth, no holding back. I pulled her into me, wrapping her arms around my waist and threading my hands through her hair. The goosebumps across her skin started to form and the rapid rise and fall of her chest made me want to place my head there, soothing her until the confusion had fallen away. ‘Do you know how you make me feel?’ I rasped, trailing my fingers across her jawline.

  ‘Tell me,’ she whispered hoarsely.

  ‘Crazy.’ My thumb pressed firmly against her pulse that was erratic and wayward beneath my fingertips. I leant down, brushing my lips against her ear, moving closer to her mouth.

  ‘Don’t kiss me,’ she said, as she wrapped her hand around mine and removed it from her neck.

  ‘Jess—’

  ‘Please, I can’t work out what’s real and what’s pretend.’ She stepped back. ‘I don’t want our first kiss to happen when I’m so unsure. I need it to be important. Unforgettable.’

  ‘But I’m sure I want to kiss you,’ I replied, trying to reassure her. It didn’t work; she folded her arms and took another step back.

  ‘Excuse me, sir.’ The restaurant manager coughed to get our attention. ‘I have some members of the press asking for you. Are you ready to return to the table? You’ve drawn quite a crowd.’

  ‘We’ll be out in five,’ I said, annoyed that we were being rushed.

  ‘Come on. You need to put a ring on it,’ Jess said, wiggling her finger and trying to smile. She quickly wiped her cheek. ‘We can’t keep them waiting any longer.’

  ‘I can’t do this,’ I said, shaking my head. ‘How can I do this now?’

  ‘Hey, listen to me,’ she replied taking my face in her hands. ‘When I first started acting, I was given some great advice. I was told to always act on my instincts,’ she said, taking my hand and leading me back to the table. ‘That’s all you need to do.’

  Jess pulled out her chair and sat down, resting her chin on her hands and watching me cautiously. I joined her at the table before taking the ring box out of my inside pocket and opening it dramatically. The flashes from the cameras outside were blinding. We both reached for each other’s hands. She gave me a reassuring smile as I knelt down in front of her, holding the ring in one hand as she squeezed my other. I leant in, remembering her words. ‘I’m not going to ask you to marry me because that’s the fake us. I’m going to act on my instincts.’ She placed her hand against my face, warming my shivers. ‘Do you trust me?’

  ‘I’m not sure,’ she replied shaking her head slowly like she was trying to gather the pieces of us she didn’t underst
and. ‘I need time. I need to think, but so do you.’

  ‘Trust me,’ I whispered, kissing her cheek as she took a deep breath. ‘Jess McKenzie, I want you to give me a chance.’ I stayed there against her ear, holding my breath because I knew the consequences if she chose to turn me down. She’d walk out of my life either way. ‘Please say yes. I know I’m confusing, but all I’m asking is for you to give me a chance.’

  ‘Give me time,’ she replied.

  ‘As much as we need.’ I felt her smile against my cheek. I was being honest. We both had feelings to sort through, feelings that were unfamiliar and scary. Suddenly she shifted, pulling her shoulders back and opening her mouth in mock shock. This would an Oscar winning performance.

  ‘Yes!’ she nodded. ‘Of course I will.’

  I’d never been so relieved in the whole of my fucking life.

  9

  ‘She’s ready.' I heard the voice of one of the many stylists that had invaded my Florida apartment and taken Jess hostage for the afternoon. I was waiting patiently. Jess arrived only a few hours ago and I was bummed that we hadn't spent a lot of time together. I’d left London the day after our fake engagement, returning to Florida a few days ago. Jess had returned to her parents, waiting to see if she got the toothpaste commercial. We’d kept in touch, often through late-night phone calls where Jess admitted she was falling in love with me but didn’t trust that I would be there to catch her as she did. I wasn’t sure how to answer her apart from saying that I would hold her hand as we fell.

  I pulled at the collar of my dress shirt, feeling uncomfortable in the tux and expensive shoes, but when I heard her heels clicking against the wooden floor, I held my breath as I waited to see her.