Home Run

by Heidi McLaughlin

  “Yeah, and she’s nice, so don’t be douches when she gets there.”

  “Well, hopefully you won’t be getting laid,” Wilder says. My brows furrow at his comment, but I leave it alone. Most bros are slaphappy if their friends are getting laid. Maybe he’s afraid he’ll hear us. I’ll turn on some music to drown out the noises.

  Neither of them make any promises about leaving Ainsley alone when she gets there, which scares the shit out of me. For all I know, they’ll start running around the apartment in their jockstraps, scarring Ainsley for life, or making her laugh. Sooner or later, she’s going to end up spending time with them, just not now. Tonight, I want her all to myself.

  She’s waiting in the parking lot when I pull in, and as soon as I’m parked and out of the car, I’m walking toward her. My steps are eager, and my heart is pounding. I’ve never felt this emotion before or the desire to be in someone’s presence as much as I do with her.

  “Hey,” she says, as a smile plays on her lips. Just being with her makes me feel better.

  I collapse into her, wrapping my arms around her. She melts into me, nestling into the crook of my neck while her fingers play with the hair that is visible outside of my hat.

  “Rough day?”

  “You have no idea,” I mumble into her skin. “But this is making it better.”

  She laughs, and her breasts shake against my chest, making me stir in my shorts. I can’t hide how attracted I am to her. “Sorry,” I say, backing away, but she doesn’t let me go far.

  “I like that I can do that to you.” She looks down at my crotch and back at me with a wicked glint in her eye.

  “I don’t want you to think I asked you over here to get laid.”

  Ainsley steps into my space, placing her hands on my hips. I have to look down at her, and when I do, her gaze intensifies. This woman…she has to be what the romantics refer to as “the one.” I never thought about that soul mate shit or true love, but if this how it feels, then I’m game. I don’t care that my mind is constantly wondering what she’s doing. From the second I laid eyes on her, I knew she was meant to be in my life.

  “If I didn’t want to be with you, I wouldn’t come over.”

  My hand slides down her arm until our fingers are locked together. I give her a slight tug and nod my head toward the stairs that lead to my apartment.

  “It’s still a mess, but this time Frank and Brock are home. If they’re crass, I apologize now. When you spend as much time as we do in clubhouses and on the road, we tend to lose all the manners we were taught growing up.” I laugh, hoping to defuse any potential comments that they may blurt out when she meets them.

  “I’m sure they’ll be fine.”

  I shake my head. “We’re athletes; it’s in our nature to be pigs,” I say as my hand rests on the doorknob. She gives my hand a light squeeze, and I open the door, surprised when I find neither of them in the living room, making our getaway to my bedroom that much easier.

  Once inside, I shut and lock the door, watching as Ainsley looks around. Can’t say anything in my room has changed from yesterday or even earlier this morning, but she’s still looking like everything is new to her.

  Is she nervous? The more I think about it, I am, and I can’t explain why.

  “Do you want to talk about today?”

  I toss my keys onto my dresser and kick off my shoes. “I’m guessing you listened to the game?”

  She nods, and I sigh as I take off my baseball cap. Ainsley giggles, and I immediately try to tame the crazy mess my hair must look like after being under my cap for so long.

  “I’ll talk, but only because you asked me.”

  “Fair enough. Do you have something I can wear?” She starts unbuttoning her shorts and lifts her shirt over her head, exposing her pink lace bra. I swallow hard and only lose sight of her when her shirt lands on my head, covering my face.

  “Sorry,” I say from behind the fabric, earning a chuckle from her. I try not to stare when I pull her shirt away, but to no avail. She’s so damn beautiful that I can’t get enough of her.

  I hand her one of my T-shirts. It’s just a plain white one that is fairly comfortable. She slips it over her head, covering herself before dropping her shorts to the floor.

  I quickly follow suit and shed my clothes, leaving myself in my boxers. Ainsley crawls into my bed, even though it’s still early. Plugging my phone into the portable speaker, I turn on some music as background noise and hopefully to prevent the guys from hearing us.

  “Today was the worst.” I lie on my side to face her, pulling her close so our legs intertwine with each other’s.

  “I’m sorry.” Her fingers softly move through my hair, soothing me. “Has this ever happened to you before?”

  Closing my eyes, I shake my head slowly and bask in the feeling of the light massage she’s giving me, helping to ease some tension. I love that she’s concerned about my game, but it shouldn’t be her worry. However, leaving the game on the field isn’t something I’ve ever been able to do, especially since it’s always been a topic of conversation for my father and me. My life has revolved around baseball and nothing else.

  “I don’t have a bad temper, and my comment wasn’t anything that I haven’t said before. Davenport thinks the ump was just in a foul mood and took it out on me.”

  “Will you get in trouble?”

  “Not really. Diamond will probably ride my ass for a few days, but that doesn’t worry me.”

  “What does?” Ainsley leans up on her elbow, bringing her lips into perfect kissing position. I lick mine and fight the urge to ignore her question and just kiss her.

  “That I’m past my prime for the big leagues. When I was drafted I chose college first, and a lot of people have said I made the wrong decision. In my heart, I know it was right, but now I’m competing with guys five to six years younger than I am and coming right out of high school to play. Their bodies haven’t taken the beatings mine has.”

  “I happen to think your body is just perfect.”

  I open my mouth to disagree with her, but her eyes tell me otherwise. Of course, if I were paying attention to her and not basking in my own pity party, I would’ve felt her fingers trailing through the patch of hair leading to my quickly hardening dick.

  “I think I should stop talking.”

  “I think you should kiss me.”

  My thumb brushes against her lips, causing them to part. Her hand sneaks under the waistband of my boxers, enticing me even more. Once our lips touch, she moans, sending waves of pleasure right to my crotch. This is different from our first time. There’s no exploration, no getting to know your partner. Everything now is eager, and each kiss, each groping and pass of a hand—mine over her breasts or hers along my shaft—increases the intensity between us.

  I bunch my shirt—the one she’s wearing—and lift it over her head so I can taste her peaked nipple through the lace of her bra. My nimble fingers work to release her breasts from their captor, and once free, my hands are massaging while my mouth suckles them.

  She strokes me, increasing the fire that is burning inside of me. I lay her down and hover over her, relishing the way her hand feels wrapped around my hard-on. Ainsley pushes my boxers off of me, exposing my erection.

  I curl my fingers around her panties and pull them down her legs, breaking the hold she had on me, and kick my boxers off. Ainsley is impatient and pulls me on top of her, my cock jumping the moment he feels her wet core.

  I kiss her and move my body along hers, teasing her warm flesh. Nails dig into my ass and her hips rise up, trying to create the friction we both need. I’m startled when she grips my dick and guides me to her entrance.

  “I need a condom,” I tell her between kisses, forcing myself to leave her so I can grab one. I blindly reach for the drawer, opening it to reach for the box. Only I don’t find it.

  “What the fuck?” I say, climbing off of her so I can get a closer look. “Son of a bitch.” It dawns on me now
why Wilder made that comment in the car about getting laid—the fucker has taken my condoms.

  “What’s wrong?”

  I flop on the bed and will my erection to go away. “My roommate took my condoms,” I mumble into the bed while picturing every disgusting thing I can. Ainsley doesn’t help matters when she starts kissing my back, my neck, and finally pulling on my earlobe.

  “I’m on the pill,” she whispers seductively into my ear. My head pops up, and I look at her. She presses her lips to mine, and maneuvers to pull me on top of her. I go willingly because I want to feel connected to her.

  “Are you sure?” I ask, needing to know she has no doubts about us.

  “I am.” She hitches her leg over my hip, and when I push into her, I almost come immediately. The sensation of being bare and feeling her take me in is indescribable. I have a feeling Ainsley Burke is going to be my doom. That is if I don’t destroy myself first.

  Chapter 20

  Ainsley

  I will not fall in love with him.

  I will not fall in love with him.

  I say those words repeatedly as I look at myself in the mirror. The red marks on my neck, a result of his scruff rubbing against my heated flesh as he moved inside of me last night, are a reminder of what I’ve done.

  Never in my life have I had unprotected sex until last night. I don’t know what came over me, but it can’t happen again. But how do you tell the person that you’ve made a mistake? How do you look someone in the eye and say that you now want him to wear a condom without hurting his feelings, or ego, for that matter? I was horny and stupid, and now have to find a way to tell Cooper that we can’t continue to have unprotected sex. He just has to understand that this is a personal decision and not because I don’t trust him.

  A loud bang shakes me from my reverie. I pause for a second before that voice in the back of my head tells me that something is wrong. Opening the door, I stall, listening for any sort of sound that may alert me as to what that noise was. Down the hall, I peek into my mother’s room only to find she’s not there. A few more steps and I am at the top of the stairs looking down at my mother, in a heap.

  “Mom,” I scream as I rush down. “Mom, can you hear me?”

  She doesn’t answer, and panic starts to set in. I search for her pulse. It’s faint but there, and as I reach for my cell phone, I realize it’s in the bathroom because I was contemplating sending Cooper a picture before I took a good look at myself in the mirror.

  “Shit,” I mutter as I scramble to the kitchen to call for help. After dialing, I tell the operator that I believe my mother fell down the stairs, and she is unconscious but has a faint pulse. They ask me to stay on the line, but our phone is older and is still attached to the wall.

  This is karma coming back to bite me in the ass. If I had just listened to my mother about dating Cooper, I wouldn’t have been in the bathroom trying to take a fucking selfie of my tits for him, and she wouldn’t have fallen.

  “Help is on the way,” I tell my mom. I want to straighten her out and fix her clothing, but I don’t know if she’s broken anything, and I don’t want to make things worse for her.

  “Ainsley…” Her voice is groggy, and as she tries to reach for me, I clasp my hand around hers.

  “It’s okay, Mom. Help is on the way.”

  “What happened?”

  “I don’t know. I was in the bathroom.” Doing shit I shouldn’t be.

  The sound of sirens is a welcome relief, and as much as I hate letting go of her hand, I have to in order to let the medics in.

  They come in, one asking me a barrage of questions while the other tends to my mother. These are the same questions the operator asked me, but I suppose they need to ask again. I have no doubt I’ll be asked once more when we get to the emergency room.

  “What’s your name, ma’am?” I hear the medic ask my mother. Her response is mumbled so I blurt out, “Janice Burke.”

  “Okay, Janice, can you tell me what happened?” the medic asks. I feel helpless as I look on, watching them work on my mother.

  “I found her like that,” I say, pointing to her. “I heard a loud bang, and when I came out of the bathroom, she was at the bottom of the stairs. I felt for a pulse but didn’t want to move her.”

  “Does this hurt?” The medic presses and moves her arms and legs, checking to see if anything is broken.

  My mom only moans, and the tears I’ve been holding back fall freely. They work to load her onto the stretcher and ask me to meet them at the hospital. It takes me a moment to realize that they’re gone before my brain kicks my ass into gear and I’m grabbing her list of medications and my purse and running out the door.

  I’m only seconds behind the ambulance and am there when they put her into a room. The hard orange chair is an unwelcome friend, and my body groans. I’ve spent far too many hours in a chair identical to this one and foresee many more hours, if not days, that I’ll be here. I sit down and wait for them to finish transferring her to the hospital bed, along with hooking up the machines. I sigh as the sounds from the monitors fill the room, letting me know her heart is beating and she’s breathing.

  “Ms. Burke.”

  “Hi, Dr. Sanchez.”

  “Hello, Janice. Can you tell me what happened?” He writes in her chart, even though she’s not answering him. She’s been in and out of consciousness since I found her.

  He turns to me. “Do you know what happened?”

  I shake my head. “I came out of the bathroom and found her at the bottom of the stairs. I had heard the crash and went looking for her. She asked me what had happened so I’m guessing she doesn’t remember anything.”

  “We’re going to take her down for a CAT scan and get some X-rays to make sure nothing is broken.”

  Dr. Sanchez nods toward the orderlies who unhook the machines from their stands and attach them to her bed.

  “We’ll rush the results so we know what we’re dealing with,” he says, pulling up another one of the orange chairs. “Tell me how things have been at home.”

  I fill him in on how she usually doesn’t ever want to leave, but also tell him about our dessert date the other night and how I felt like that was a turning point for her. But this fall is definitely a setback.

  “I know her last scan didn’t show a lot of promise, but I’m confident in her treatment. I’m hoping this fall is just that—a fall. People who have a weakened system sometimes lose their balance and take a tumble, and it’s nothing to worry about.” He places his hand on my knee and smiles. “I’ll let you know soon.”

  With that, he takes his exit, leaving me in a sterile, empty room while the emergency room staff bustles around outside the walls. I don’t want to know what’s going on out there because I’ve been on that side before with the tears falling, my heart breaking, and my world crashing down around me. I hate this place just as much as I hate the cancer that is stealing my mother from me. Even if she’s winning the battle, it’s taking her spirit, and I don’t know if she’ll ever bounce back from it.

  The sound of squeaking tires and soft mumbles startles me awake. The orderlies are back and hooking my mother up to the machines. I stretch and close my eyes as my muscles rebel against me. They’re sore and achy, and my neck has a kink it in from falling asleep in the chair.

  “How’s my mother?” I ask when the nurse walks in.

  “She’s fine but is sleeping. She should wake up soon.”

  The nurse doesn’t say anything else before exiting the room. I know Dr. Sanchez will be back in to give me the results, but it’s the waiting that is going to kill me.

  Taking my chair, I set it down beside her bed and hold her hand in mine. She’s clammy and probably in need of another blanket, but I can’t move. Since she’s been battling cancer, she has aged, and it hasn’t been gracefully. Her beauty has been eaten away by the amount of chemicals being pumped into her body. Her plump cheeks, full lips, and brilliant eyes no longer exist. Her clothes hang from he
r body as if she can’t afford new ones, and she no longer walks with purpose but shuffles her feet along until she can find a place to sit and rest.

  “Ahem.”

  I raise my head and wipe my tears when Dr. Sanchez enters the room. He looks somber, and my stomach twists in a knot.

  “I’m going to just be blunt.”

  “It’s what I expect,” I remind him. There’s no need to sugarcoat anything for me. Even though I would love for him to come out and say she’s perfect, I know better.

  “She has a broken ankle.”

  “That’s easy to fix, right?” My hopes start to soar.

  “It is, but we can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  He pulls the stupid orange chair close to me and sits down. Tears prickle my eyes, but I fight them back.

  “The cancer has spread, Ainsley, and there isn’t anything we can do. It’s everywhere now, lungs, kidneys, and liver.”

  “What does that mean?” My voice breaks, and I have to cover my mouth to hold back a sob. Deep inside, I know what it means, but he has to tell me. I have to hear the words come out of his mouth.

  “She has weeks, maybe a month or so left. She’s too weak for chemo or radiation, and we can’t do surgery—there’s just too much cancer—and whatever we do try and remove, I have a feeling more clusters will take their place. Her immune system is already compromised, and opening her up will only cause her more harm than good.”

  “Is she in pain?”

  He shakes his head. “No, we’ve started her on liquid Roxanol and will administer the dosage through her IVs. She’ll be in and out of consciousness for the most part, and some days will be better than others, depending on her pain tolerance.”

  “Okay,” I say, looking over at my mother, who seems to be frailer now than she was minutes before he walked in.

  “I’m sorry, Ainsley. I wish my news was better.”

  I wipe away the tears and turn back toward her, giving her all my attention.

  “The nurse will call for hospice care, and they’ll be here to pick her up. It’s two floors above, and I’ll still be able to check on her.”