Either he’s going for the record in women bedded like he’s going for the record in stolen bases, or the guy is really fucked up.
Then again, aren’t we all? I glance at Caden – well those of us who don’t lead charmed lives.
Caden heads for the door. “Can we get this dog and pony show started then? I turn into a pumpkin at eleven.”
We go down to the lobby and walk up to the hostess stand. “We’re just going in to sit at the bar, Natasha.”
She waves us by. “Go right ahead boys. And let me know if you need anything.”
Sawyer raises his eyebrows at me when we sit down. “She’s new. You done that yet?”
He knows she’s new because this is the team hotel. Some guys rent a house during spring training camp, but those of us who don’t, usually stay here. It’s nice. It’s convenient to both the beach and the training complex, and it has a great restaurant that tends to hire very attractive hostesses.
“Nah, you go ahead.”
He narrows his eyes at me. “You’ve been here four fucking weeks and you haven’t seen her naked? What is wrong with you?”
I brush off his comment and order a beer. Caden and Sawyer order one too.
“You’re coming to the games, right?” Caden asks.
I nod my head. “Wouldn’t miss ‘em.”
“It’s going to be hard for you.”
“Yeah. I know.”
He pats my shoulder. “You’ll get back there.”
“So everyone keeps telling me.”
“What have you been doing to keep busy?” he asks.
“You mean when Rylee and Matt aren’t busting my balls?” I shrug. “I’ve been to the beach. I run, now that I’m off restriction. I’m all caught up on Game of Thrones. And I’ve seen a lot of the local wildlife.”
He looks at me sideways.
“Don’t ask.”
Caden lifts his drink. “To getting the team back together again.”
Sawyer taps his bottle to each of ours. “Can’t happen soon enough.”
“From your mouth to God’s ears,” I say, before taking a drink.
I see a woman walk through the bar with a scarf over her bald head, reminding me of something. “Hey, I haven’t heard any news lately, how is Bobby’s wife?”
Bobby Goodrich is one of our team’s batting coaches. He’s a good guy who we all call a friend. He used to go out with us often until his wife got sick last year.
Sawyer shakes his head. “It’s not good. They found more cancer in her brain. It’s all over her body now. She’s thirty-three years old and might only have a few more weeks to live.”
I close my eyes knowing Bobby is in for a world of pain. But he has his kids. And he knows it’s coming. He can prepare. “At least they can say goodbye.”
I chug the rest of my beer and ask for another.
Caden looks at me with sympathy. “Don’t,” I say.
“Speaking of doing things in your spare time,” Caden says, wisely changing the subject. “What are you going to do about the job offer from the gym?”
“She told you about that, huh?”
“Of course she did. She’s excited to get back into modeling. I don’t think she’ll give up her day job at the gym, I mean she practically runs the place now, but I’ve always thought she felt something was missing. She never got to prove herself. This is her chance. I’m proud as shit.”
“I don’t know, it just seems …”
“Beneath you?” Sawyer asks, popping some peanuts into his mouth.
Caden scolds him with a biting stare. “Athletes model all the time, you tool.”
“It’s not that,” I say.
“You think if you do it, you’re admitting you might be out of the game,” Sawyer says.
He hit the nail on the fucking head. But I don’t tell him that. I just take another drink.
“You can do both, you know,” Caden says. “Nobody will think you’re giving up just because you do some photo shoots for the gym.”
“You sure are pushing for this, Kessler. Do you really want me to put on scant clothing and touch your fiancée? Because you know sex sells, right?”
He laughs. “Well, why the hell do you think I want you? Better you than some random nobody who thinks he has a shot with her.”
I can see his logic. Murphy has been taken advantage of enough to last a lifetime. And Caden doesn’t know it yet, but he just helped me make my decision.
Four attractive women walk up to the bar and order some drinks. They are clearly here for us. It’s no secret the team is here.
Sawyer immediately starts talking to them and their incessant giggles echo throughout the room.
Natasha comes over. “Is everything okay gentlemen?”
Hotel workers have been told to keep an eye on things and call security if fans are getting out of hand.
“We’re fine here,” I tell her.
She eyes the women skeptically and looks back at me. “If you need anything, I’m right over there, just give me a signal or something.”
“Will do. Thank you.”
Natasha stares at me before walking away. No wonder Rylee thought I had slept with her. She’s looking at me like I’m a mouth-watering piece of candy.
I look over at the table where Rylee and I dined the other night. I can almost see her throwing her head back and laughing like in the picture. Damn that was fun.
“Dude?”
I look at Sawyer who is trying to get my attention.
“Kylie asked you a question.”
“Oh, sorry,” I say, looking over at the women. “Which one of you is Kylie?”
The redhead holds up her hand.
“What were you asking me?”
“I heard you were going to be in town for a while and I was wondering if you needed a tour guide. You know, someone to show you all the best sights.” She runs a finger from her throat down to her well-exposed cleavage.
I glance over at the table again and then look back at Kylie. I shake my head. “Thanks for the offer, I think I’m pretty well covered.”
Sawyer leans over to me. “Is your fucking dick broken, too? What the hell, man?”
Caden looks at me for a second, then he turns to Sawyer. “Cut him some slack, Mills.”
Kylie walks around behind Caden. “What about you?” she asks him. “Do you see anything here you like?”
He smiles politely. “I’m covered, too,” he says. “I’m very happily engaged.”
The girl scoffs and walks back over to take her seat.
I whisper to Caden, “What the hell does that mean, ‘you’re covered, too’? What do you think I meant when I said that?”
He shrugs. “I don’t know. Murphy told me some stuff. I guess I just thought—”
“Well, don’t think,” I interrupt. “Whatever she told you is something out of her overactive imagination. The woman reads too many romance novels.”
“Maybe so,” he says, finishing his beer. “Listen, speaking of Murphy, I think I’m going to head up and give her a call. I’m more tired than I thought.”
He stands up and throws some money on the bar. I follow suit. “I’ll go up with you.”
Sawyer sees our intentions and narrows his eyes at me. “What’s wrong with you?” he asks.
I lean in and pat him on the back as I whisper, “Looks like you’ll have your pick of the litter. Have fun, my friend.”
That perks him up a bit. “You mean I can only pick one?”
Caden and I laugh as we walk out of the restaurant.
He studies me as we ride up the elevator together.
“What?” I bite at him.
He holds up his hands in surrender. “Nothing. Jeez.”
“Quit thinking about me,” I say as we arrive at our floor and the doors open. “Go have dirty phone sex with your fiancée.”
That puts a smile on his face. “I just might do that. But don’t tell Murphy I said that, she’d be mortified.”
“Later,” I say, r
eaching my door.
I walk into my suite and stare at the wall I had Rylee pressed against Friday night. I start to get hard just thinking about it. Then I stare at the floor where she was straddling me, my dick begging for release as I picture her that way. I unbutton my pants, taking myself into my hand as I walk into the bedroom. Then I see the t-shirt still on my bed.
Fuck.
My dick goes flaccid as I fold up the shirt and put it back in the closet. And then I take a shower, washing all thoughts of my past, and any future, down the drain.
Chapter Fourteen
Rylee opens the door to the PT room. “I’m ready for you.”
I study her face as I walk by. I don’t want this to be awkward. She smiles at me letting me know we’re good.
I see Alex in the room working on another player. He stops what he’s doing and looks up at me. He’s been jealous of me from day one. Rylee and I have gotten along well from that very first appointment. That’s nothing new. I’ve even had the same experience with other PTs who are men. Well, not exactly the same experience. But sometimes you get stuck with someone who you can barely hold a conversation with because you just don’t click.
“Did you have a nice weekend, Rylee?” I ask with a raised brow just to mess with Alex.
“I did. It was fun.”
“I’m glad to hear it. What did you do?”
She widens her eyes as if to scold me.
She thinks about my question for a beat. “Saw some wild animals.” Then she shrugs nonchalantly. “Even fed one of them.”
I can’t control my outburst of laughter because I know damn well we weren’t allowed to feed anything at the Big Cat Rescue.
Alex walks by, eyeing what he thinks is his competition as Rylee sets me up to work with the bands attached to the wall. When he takes his patient into the other room, Rylee says, “Stop it.”
“Stop what?”
“Oh, come on. You know what you’re doing.”
“In case you haven’t noticed, Ry, that guy wants you.”
“Doesn’t matter. It’s against the rules.”
I raise a brow at her.
She rolls her eyes. “It was a one-time thing, Brady,” she whispers. “It’s not going to happen again.”
“You had fun feeding the animals, didn’t you? Especially the barracuda.”
She looks around the room to make sure nobody has walked back in. “It was a lot of fun, but you and I both know it shouldn’t have happened. We each have things we need to accomplish – important things – to keep our careers on track.”
She directs me to try the stronger band since this one has gotten too easy for me.
“All work and no play will make Rylee a sad girl,” I tell her when she settles back in at her laptop.
“I can play later. After I’ve accomplished my goals.”
I blow out an acquiescing breath. “Fine. No more feeding the beast. So what would you suggest we do on Friday instead?”
She looks up from her laptop. “No way. No more Friday nights.”
I smile. “You don’t trust yourself with me, do you?”
“It’s not that,” she says. Then she shakes her head. “Well, maybe it’s a little that. I just think we should keep things professional, that’s all.”
“I think I’m going to have to change your mind.”
“You can try. But ask anyone, I’m pretty stubborn.”
“Nobody likes a challenge more than I do,” I say with a wink.
“Not happening, Taylor. In fact, the only way I would hang out with you again is if we had a chaperone.”
I laugh. Yeah, she wants me baaaaaad. “We’ll see, Kennedy.”
“Did you get to see your teammates yet?” she asks, changing the subject.
“They flew in last night. I had drinks with Caden and Sawyer. Hey, you should go to the game tonight.”
“Have you not listened to anything I just said, Brady? I’m not going out with you.”
“Not with me. I’ll be sitting in the dugout.”
“Oh, right. Sorry.”
“Surely you have someone you can enjoy the game with.”
Her face lights up. “Actually, I do.”
Suddenly, I’m sorry I said anything about it. I was thinking she could go with a friend. A girl friend. But that look on her face has something gnawing at my gut.
I shut up about it for the rest of my session. When I know we’re winding down for the day, I tell her what’s been on my mind since last night. “I want to start throwing.”
“Brady.” She looks at me like my mom used to when I’d ask for a second slice of cake.
“Come on, Ry. I know my hand sucks. But I need to start throwing.”
“It’s barely been four weeks since your surgery.”
“Exactly,” I say. “You need to push me, Rylee. You need to push me harder than you push anyone else. I can take it.”
She takes a minute and looks at some data on her laptop. “I’ll tell you what,” she says, hooking me up to the TENS. “You impress me this week and then we’ll see about it next Monday.”
“I thought I already impressed you on Friday.”
She blushes.
“Don’t get cocky,” she says.
“I did that with you on Friday, too.”
She laughs.
I love her laugh.
“You’re incorrigible,” she says.
Alex finishes with his client and sits at a nearby desk. “So, the team’s in town,” he says to me.
“Yeah. Thank God. I’ve been bored as shit.”
“I’ll bet,” he says, eyeing me skeptically. He thinks I’m a douchebag. I’ve heard him make more than a few comments to Rylee about my extra-curricular activities when he didn’t think I could hear him. Or maybe he did. I get it though, he’s trying to protect her. Or fuck her.
Then he turns to Ry. “Maybe we should go. You know, show some support. How about it?”
Holy shit. The asshole is asking her out right in front of me.
Rylee looks more than a little uncomfortable. “Thanks, Alex. It’s a good idea, but I already have plans.”
“Plans with Stryker?”
I tense up. Rylee tenses up. It’s as awkward a moment as we’ve had together.
“No, uh, can we not talk about that?” Rylee says, shooting Alex a punishing stare. “I like to keep my personal life out of the therapy room.”
“Of course,” Alex says, having the decency to look like he feels bad for being so unprofessional. “I’m sorry.” He picks up his laptop and takes it into one of the offices.
Rylee looks anywhere but at me. I’m not sure if I should be pissed or impressed. I mean, who says guys are the only ones who can play around? Maybe Murphy was right. Maybe I’ve met my match. I just wonder how many more Strykers are out there. And does she take all of them to see the fish and the big cats and the streetcars?
And really - his name couldn’t be Bob or Jim? Fucking Stryker. He’s got a baseball name. Maybe he’s a player. Maybe he’s on the single-A team. Maybe she dates players after all. Maybe Rylee Kennedy has a boyfriend. Shit.
“I assume you want a massage today?” she asks, seeming to be in a better mood now that Alex has left the room.
Stupidest. Question. Ever.
“Haven’t turned one down yet, have I?”
“Climb on up,” she says, motioning to the training table behind me.
I lie on my back, watching her open the jar to get the greasy stuff that makes her hands glide effortlessly over my neck and shoulders. The anticipation is almost painful. I’m getting hard before she even touches me.
She starts working on my neck, but then stops abruptly. Five seconds later, she tosses a hand towel onto my tented sweatpants. “Maybe you should think about wearing jeans next time.”
I chuckle, arranging the towel over my growing erection. I extend my neck and look up at her. “I can’t help it, Ry. I know what your hands feel like on me. I know what they feel like on
every part of me.”
She uses her fingers to force my head back into position so that I’m not looking at her. Then she proceeds to give me a massage unlike any other. She may claim she doesn’t want to see me again, but her hands tell me a much different story than her words.
~ ~ ~
Being back in the dugout is bittersweet. All the guys are trying their best to make me feel welcome. But it’s still uncomfortable as shit knowing I’m not going out on that field. Knowing I have to stay in the dugout – useless and damaged.
I look down at my arm and run my right hand along a line from my elbow to my thumb. Sometimes it burns or tingles when I do it, but I don’t mind, at least I’m feeling something there. I know it’s only been a month, but I expected to get the feeling back in my fingers. I thought maybe the doctors were wrong, or that once my elbow started to heal, my nerve would heal right along with it. I’m trying to stay positive. I keep telling myself these things take time. And I’m reminded around noon every Monday through Friday that I am making progress even though it may not seem like it.
Still, I see the way the guys look at me. They all know it’s more than just a simple bone break. They know I won’t be back for the playoffs, something I might have managed if I were dealing with simply a fracture.
I pull the stress ball out of my pocket. It goes with me everywhere. When I’m not squeezing it, I’m stretching rubber bands between my fingers, or I’m using the hand grip.
I watch Caden give the signs to Cole, the pitcher he’s been paired with the most in my absence, and it feels like I’m the other-fucking-woman. They work perfectly together, just like we used to. And when Caden calls time to approach the mound, they even laugh. Just like we used to.
After the inning, Caden removes his gear and sits next to me. “Cole’s good. One of the best,” he says to me privately. “But he’s not you.” He pats me on the back and then gets up to find his batting helmet.
I stand up and go to the railing, resting my elbows on it as I peer into the stands. I miss this so badly it hurts. I miss the fans. I miss the field. I miss the camaraderie we have as a team. I miss the good times with my best friends.
But despite all that, I find myself looking around at the crowd, wondering if Rylee is out there. And for the first time, I realize that when I leave here in a month, there is something else I might miss, too.
Benching Brady (The Perfect Game Series) Page 10
