Playing Hardball, Part 2 (A Baseball Romance Serial) (Playing Hardball (A Baseball Romance Serial))

by Sharon Cummin

“Nope,” she snapped. “I'm just fine. No need to pretend you care.”

  “What?” I asked. “That's not nice. I was just.”

  I stopped when her head shot to the side and her eyes glared into mine.

  “Nice,” she said with a laugh. “You want to talk about nice. I get that we're having fun and that is all this is between us. We both agreed. I'm right there with you on that. You can be damn sure that I'd never want to be with a man that could talk about a woman the way you did.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” I snapped back.

  “Carrie is my best friend. I care about her. Scott is her man. I get that he's your bro and you guys all talk shit about women, but I am going to be seeing him a lot. It is one thing to know we agreed on fucking with no strings attached. However, I do not for one fucking second appreciate that you made me look like a complete piece of ass to my best friend's soon-to-be husband. Nobody has ever made me feel so low in my entire life, and that is saying a lot. It definitely made me think about things.”

  I instantly realized she'd heard my conversation with Scott. I hadn't meant to come off as such a dick. I was just pissed that Scott was sticking his nose in my business and asking about Lucy like she was something to me and I was in it to hurt her. The things I said were messed up. It was just freaking me out that he was asking questions about her, and I was getting pissed that he was the one asking them. It wasn't his business, and it definitely wasn't his job to protect her. I couldn't help it. That shit just flew out of my mouth.

  “Lucy,” I said.

  “We'll have fun until I say we're done having fun. Then I'll be on my way,” she said. “I knew better the moment I met you, Hotshot. That is the exact reason I don't do sleepovers and I don't see men twice. I don't need that kind of shit in my life.”

  I could feel the heat from her words. She was reminding me exactly what I'd said. If I didn't know better, there was hurt in her voice.

  “If that wasn't bad enough, you had to add that I don't make shit to juggle numbers for someone else,” she said with a shake of her head. “Was that really necessary?”

  “Look,” I snapped.

  “No, you look,” she snapped back. “I shouldn't have said shit about how much money you made for throwing a ball around. I get it. That was wrong of me. I don't know shit about your life. Hearing you talk to Carrie's dad made me realize it is way more than a career to you. It's passion with you. You really do love what you do. So do I. I might not make millions for juggling numbers, and nobody gives two shits about what I do, but I love my job. Hearing you talk down about it to Scott was bullshit, especially when it's him I work for. You made me feel like a complete piece of shit.”

  “I shouldn't have said it. It just pissed me off that you,” I began.

  “I get it,” she said, as she looked out the window. “It doesn't matter anyway.”

  “Lucy,” I said.

  She shook her head and that was it. I couldn't help but feel horrible that she'd heard me say those things to Scott. Even if I felt them, I shouldn't have said any of it to him. That was wrong of me. I didn't mean to make her feel like I was using her. She was using me too.

  The moment I pulled down the street her apartment was on and parked the truck, she opened the door and hurried out. Then she turned and looked at me. I could have sworn she had tears in her eyes, and it stung.

  “We're done having fun. Be on your way,” she said.

  “Lucy,” I said, as I flung my door open, got out, and walked around.

  I grabbed her arm, and she pulled it away like I was last person she wanted touching her.

  “Come on,” I said.

  She shook her head and walked toward her apartment.

  “What about the game?” I asked. “You said you'd go.”

  “Not gonna happen,” she said, as she unlocked her door and disappeared inside. “I'm sure you won't have any trouble finding someone else to go. You can have any woman you want, right?”

  The door shut with a slam. I turned around and cursed Scott and myself for that damn conversation. When I got back in the truck and shut the door, I thought about how she'd apologized the day before in front of Carrie and her family. Then I thought about the ride home we had just had. She wasn't the mouthy, confident girl from weeks before. It was something different. I found myself thinking about her in the stands watching me play. That thought snapped me back to reality. No way! I was not going there. I was not that guy, the guy who settled down and had his woman at his games cheering him on. I was not a one woman man, and I never would be. Not until I was done with baseball anyway, and that was not happening anytime soon. Fuck that, I thought. We were done.

  Chapter 5

  Lucy

  I was sitting in my apartment feeling sorry for myself. My best friend was gone. She'd really moved, and she'd taken that cutie son of hers with her. I was going to miss them both so much. I don't think Carrie realized just how much they meant to me. Her and James were light in my dark world. I'd quit going out as much when she'd shown up. What the hell was I going to do without her? For a moment, I'd actually thought about moving to Michigan. It didn't sound so bad. I'd have a job and her family. As much as I wanted to do it, I couldn't leave Brad. I was the only one cleaning his grave and visiting him. I couldn't leave the place we had planned to build our life. There was no way. I'd been fine before Carrie was there, and I knew I'd find a way to be fine again. I didn't have a choice.

  There was nothing on television, and I really had nothing to do to get ready for work. I didn't feel like sitting around feeling sorry for myself either. The longer I sat, the more he popped into my mind. Then the questions started. Did he go home, or had he gone out to find his next fuck? Was he pissed about what I'd said? Did he even care what I thought? Was he sitting at home? Was he out with the guys? Was he even thinking about me? The next couple of hours were the same. I couldn't get him out of my head and couldn't figure out why. There was nothing there. We'd hooked up a few times. It was no big deal. I had done that before, and it was always fine. Why would that time be different than any other? It wasn't different. It couldn't be. I was only loyal to one man in my life, and that would never change.

  “Screw this,” I blurted out, as I got up from the couch. “I'm going out.”

  Enough was enough, I thought. He was getting to me, and I couldn't let him. It was time to head down the street for a drink. He wasn't the only man in the world, and I needed to get him out of my head. I got ready, slipped on some shoes, grabbed my phone and keys, and headed out.

  I walked into one of the places I frequented and took a seat at the bar. It was like I hadn't even been gone those few weeks. A few of the regulars asked what I'd been up to. We got to talking about how I was helping a friend move. They didn't need to know the rest. As I looked around at the men, I couldn't find a single one I was interested in spending a few hours with. What the fuck, I thought? It had been a long weekend. I was sure I was just tired. I found myself wanting to get back home after being there for only about an hour. They were all looking at me like I was nuts.

  As soon as I walked through my door of my apartment, I changed my clothes and crawled into bed. When I saw my phone light up with a text from Carrie, I felt the tension in my chest release just a little. She ended up calling to ask about the ride home and what had happened. I knew she'd be wondering since she had heard the same conversation I had the night before. I didn't tell her much at all. She mentioned Lance was leaving town that next morning, and I was a bit relieved. When I finally put my phone down, I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep.

  I woke in a startle and quickly sat up. My dream had been so vivid. It was like he was really there. I looked around to verify that I was really alone. The sun was just starting to come through the window, and I knew my alarm was going to be going off anytime. I shut it off before climbing out of bed and heading toward the shower. I couldn't believe I'd actually had a dream about Lance. That wasn't how it worked. I'd alway
s dreamt about Brad. Usually they were nightmares. How in the world I'd let myself dream about Lance, I wasn't sure. That had to stop, I thought. It couldn't happen again. That wasn't right. Brad was the one I needed to be dreaming about, even if they weren't good ones.

  As soon as I walked into my office, I dove right into my work. It was relaxing, it always had been. It would keep my mind right where it should be and keep it from wandering where it shouldn't. Before I knew it, my time was up for the day. How crazy, right? People worked to pay the bills. Then they went home to their families. Not me. I worked to keep myself busy. I didn't feel like leaving. While everyone else was running for the door, I wanted to turn the clock back so I wouldn't have to leave.

  Every evening that week I thought about Lance. Some thoughts made me smile, and some made me feel like the trash I had been acting like by just hooking up. Why he was the one that made me realize it, I had no idea. I was starting to question everything about my life, and I didn't like it one bit.

  I hadn't heard from him either. There were no messages in the morning or the evening. I checked several times a day. That was messed up, I knew it. Why I checked, I had no idea. I didn't want to talk to him. I didn't care what he was doing or who he was doing it with. Yet I picked up that damn phone to check more times than I'd ever picked it up before.

  At night, I was flipping through the channels looking or anything to keep my mind busy. I hadn't gone to a bar since the night we got back, and I honestly didn't feel like it. While I wanted no part of a relationship, I also didn't feel like hooking up either. Things in my life needed to change. I needed to be alone. That was how it was supposed to be.

  I found myself calling Carrie's mom the following Friday night. She talked to me for hours, and it felt amazing. I felt like she really cared. We talked about work, cooking, and even Lance. She asked the questions, and I answered them. I hadn't been comfortable talking to anyone the way I was with her. We hung up with her promise that she wouldn't tell anyone, not even her daughter, about my call.

  I thought about going out the following night but turned on the television instead. The first thing on the screen was a baseball game. It was the Pirates of course. I knew I wasn't going to be with him again, but I couldn't help but think about things he had said during the short time I'd known him. It wasn't just him. Baseball was a huge part of Scott, Carrie, James, and her family's lives. What would it hurt to watch one game, I asked myself? It couldn't be that bad if all of them were so invested in it. I grabbed myself a soda and sat down to try and make sense of the game. I wasn't a complete moron. I'd heard certain things growing up. I wasn't completely lost. It was time to give it a real shot.

  The Pirates were up to bat when I decided to really pay attention. They did very well. I began to understand strikes and balls. I didn't totally get fouls though. One of the players knocked that shit out of there. I found my ass jumping off the couch the moment it happened. They only scored one run for that. What the fuck, I thought. I grabbed a notebook and started jotting down questions I had about the game. Carrie's mom could answer them for me.

  The moment they had their last out, the other players began running in. It seemed like a lot of commotion just to switch sides. They would be batting, and the Pirates would be taking the field. It cut to commercial, so I hurried to the kitchen to grab some snacks. I was starving. I sat back down, stuffed a handful of chips in my mouth, and then I saw him. Instantly, I stopped chewing. The camera was right there showing him on the mound. I could see his face so clearly. He had stubble on his chin and a dark look in his eyes. He shook his head, adjusted his hat, and looked up. That look changed to one of complete focus. I felt an ache in my chest that I hadn't felt in so long. My eyes were glued to that screen as he pitched out after out. He really was good. They hadn't been joking.

  A noise pulled me from my thoughts, and I jumped back to reality when I realized I'd dropped my bowl of chips from my hand onto the floor. I grabbed the remote and quickly turned off the television. Then I leaned back against the couch and closed my eyes.

  When my phone rang, I jumped to grab it and was relieved to see Carrie's mom's number. I answered with a smile and happy tone to my voice. It was perfect timing. I needed that distraction so badly. We talked about her day and what she was making for dinner. She had me wanting to cook. I'd never had a huge interest in it before, but she made everything sound so good. I wrote down the recipe for what she was making and planned to go to the store the next day to stock up on groceries. Trying new things would be good. It would give me something to do after work to keep me busy. I asked her the questions I had written down about baseball and made notes of the answers in my notebook. Not once did she pry or ask why the sudden interest. She just answered everything I asked. We had a great conversation.

  The next morning, I was up and excited about my shopping trip, more than I ever had been before. I bought way more than I would ever need. It was just me, but I bought enough stuff to cook for an entire family. I hurried home and put everything away. Then I got to work on the recipe Carrie's mom had given me the day before. It was a chicken soup recipe that I was sure was super easy for the rest of the world. I really enjoyed making it, and my apartment smelled amazing. It wasn't nearly as hard as I thought it would be. I took a picture and sent it to her in a text message. Then I sat down with a huge bowl. It was honestly the best soup I'd ever tasted. I was definitely making it again. It was nice eating something that wasn't out of a can, frozen, or fast food.

  The following week was great. I'd cleaned my apartment from top to bottom, put in more hours than ever at the office, and made myself dinner two more times. Lance came into my mind every single day. As hard as I tried not to think about him, he was still there. I'd only dreamt about him that one time, and I was glad. That shit was way too real for me. I'd been afraid to close my eyes each night before, but after that dream, I'd looked forward to closing them so I would be reminded of the love I had for Brad. Even though I woke up shaking every single time. I didn't want the nightmares, but I needed to be reminded of who I was supposed to be. Every time Lance popped into my mind, I'd remind myself that I was nothing to him and he'd never be anything to me. No man would ever love me the way Brad did.

  I talked to Carrie's mom every day for at least a few minutes. Carrie was so damn lucky to have a mom like that, I thought. I'd even sent her pictures of the meals I'd made during the week.

  Friday night came, and I knew I was staying home. I was actually proud that I hadn't hooked up or been to the bar. It was much better that way. I had the radio on and was deep into making the lasagna I'd made with Carrie's mom when I heard a knock at the door. I quickly turned the radio down thinking I'd probably upset a neighbor. Then I walked to the door and swung it open prepared to apologize.

  “I'm sor,” I stopped before the second word was out. It had been two weeks since I'd seen or heard from him, but there he was. Lance was the last person I thought would be behind that door. We'd had our words. I was done, and I was pretty sure he was too. Why was he there, I wondered? He was standing there in a pair of tight jeans wearing his jersey and baseball hat. There was stubble on his face that looked at least a day old. The dark color in his eyes and the way they looked into mine had me stumbling to think or speak. The heat in that moment was so damn intense, I wasn't sure what to do. He stepped forward, and I stepped back. That happened two more times before he flung the door closed behind him.

  “What are you doing here?” was all I could manage to say.

  Chapter 6

  Lance

  I had to leave the morning following the drive home. The two weeks following were going to be so busy, and I planned to work hard every moment of that time. Partly because it was what I loved and partly to prove to her I could be the best at it. That woman pushed every single one of my buttons during that short trip. She'd been her normal firecracker self, but I'd also seen another side as well. She'd shown a vulnerable side. Watching her laugh and cook with Carrie'
s mom had me wanting to see her smiling like that again. She wasn't cocky or tough. She was adorable actually. When she apologized to me, I couldn't believe my ears. Seeing her crying as she walked by us had me wanting to reach out and take her pain away. It fucking stung. I was already fighting with myself when Scott started acting like he was protecting her. Something about it really pissed me off and had my mouth digging a whole so deep, I wasn't sure I could get out of it. The drive home was hard. I was worried about her feelings, and it ended up that I was the one causing her pain. She jumped out of the truck and took off letting me know she was the one calling an end and moving on. I'd turned the truck in and gone home. Then I packed up my shit and went to bed. It was better that way, the way she'd left it. It needed to be over. I didn't do relationships, and I didn't need clingy. I had things to do, and getting tied down wasn't one of them.

  I was up and gone early the next morning. We were heading out, and I was so damn glad I'd have the distraction. I watched the guys saying goodbye to their wives and kids from my seat on the bus with a smile on my face. I didn't need that shit. My life was perfect the way it was. I leaned my head back against the seat and closed my eyes. Every single time something came to me, it was about her. I even dreamt about her ass.

  Those two weeks crawled by. I practiced as much as I possibly could to keep my head in the game. While we played, I made sure to do my best. There was no way I was going to ever give up on my dreams. My career was all that mattered to me. I don't know why, but I noticed more than ever when the guys talked about their kids and things they had taken them to do while they were home. I'd even found myself looking up in the stands and wondering what it would be like to actually get Lucy to a game. I'd quickly snap myself out of it every time. I'd think about all of her rotten comments and the fact that she didn't like baseball. That was a total deal breaker. It didn't stop that damn thought from popping into my head again. I swear I thought about her at least five times a day. It was ridiculous.