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

by Sharon Cummin

  “What?” she asked. “No.”

  “If you don't open this door in five seconds, I'm going to bust the fucker down,” I said even more firm than before.

  “Lance,” she called out. “You have seen enough. I can't get you sick. Please go home.”

  “I am not leaving you here like this, Lucy. I know I have to go tomorrow, but I'm not leaving tonight. Now, I will say it again. Then I will count. Open the door, woman.”

  “Lance,” she cried out. “Please, you don't understand.”

  “One,” I began.

  “No,” she yelled out.

  “Two,” I continued.

  “Go,” she yelled.

  “Three”

  “Why are you doing this?” she asked a little quieter than before.

  “I just am,” I answered. “You don't always have to go it alone you know. Four.”

  “Damn you,” she yelled.

  I knew she was standing right up against the door.

  “Five,” I yelled. “Last chance, Firecracker.”

  “Fuck,” she groaned just before unlocking the door.

  I swung it open and walked in.

  “Clothes off,” I said.

  “Are you fucking serious,” she snarled. “I am not fucking you right now.”

  I laughed as I shook my head and walked over to her tub. Then I leaned in and turned the warm water on. I began filling it before looking back at her.

  “I have no intention of having you fuck me, Lucy. Now get your ass naked before I rip those clothes from your body.”

  She let out a huff but began removing her clothes. How could she not realize how damn sexy she was, I wondered? I reached over and took off her pants and panties. Then I took her hand as she stepped into the tub. She leaned her head back against the edge and closed her eyes. I grabbed the soap and a washcloth and began cleaning her. She let out tiny moans but never said a word. I had her sit up so I could wash her hair. My fingers massaged her scalp and she smiled. I rinsed her hair and leaned her back against the side of the tub. Then I grabbed a towel before helping her to her feet. I wrapped the towel around her, scooped her up, and walked to her room. I sat her on the bed and moved toward her dresser. When I opened her top drawer to grab a pair of panties, my eyes landed on my folded jersey and baseball cap. Without saying a word, I grabbed the panties and closed the drawer. Then I found shorts and a tank top before turning around to find her asleep on the bed. I hadn't even heard her move.

  I couldn't help but watch her for a moment. She was quiet and so damn beautiful, even if she had been sick less than an hour before. I was so damn shocked that she hadn't sold my stuff. Why did she lie, I wondered? I'd made a comment about her selling it. Maybe she was giving me the shit I deserved for that comment. I couldn't believe the jersey was folded so nice and my hat was placed there with care. She told me she got good money for it. Maybe she didn't want me to ask for it again. She didn't even like the game. Why would she keep it? Would she sell it later? There was no way I was going to say anything about finding it. I knew her better than that. She'd have something cocky to say for sure. Then she probably would sell it just to prove a point. The woman was something else.

  I unwrapped the towel from her body. Then I dressed her. It made me laugh for a second. I was used to removing a woman's clothes, not putting them on. Lucy wasn't just any woman though. That was something I couldn't forget if I wanted to. She was the exact opposite of what I was used to, including the amazing sex. I was used to women who did exactly what they thought I wanted. Lucy did what she wanted no matter what I thought. I did like the fact that her ass listened in the bedroom. When I demanded something, she never even thought before doing what I said. It was the hottest thing ever.

  I pulled the blanket up around her and closed her door before going into her bathroom to clean up the mess I'd left getting her out of the tub. Then I went to her living room and sat down on the couch. Her notebook with baseball questions were still where she'd left it. I had to pick it up just to see what kind of stuff she asked Carrie's mom and what she'd written next to each one. It took all I had not to burst into laughter. How many innings? How many outs in an inning? What is an out? What is a ball? What's the point of getting all dirty going home? I was happy she was at least trying to figure it out. I picked up the pen and wrote answers next to the ones that didn't have one yet. Then I drew out a diagram of the field and where everything was at. On the pitcher's mound, I wrote my name and the words “hottest guy ever”. Then in the stands, I wrote her name. I wrote down some of the rules to the game and a few more questions along with answers. At the bottom of the page I wrote the words “I will get you to a game. You know you want to see my ass in my uniform. It's super sexy.”

  I turned on the television and was in the middle of watching a movie with my feet up on the coffee table when Lucy came around the corner from the hallway. She sat down on the couch two seats away from me. I looked over at her and shook my head.

  “You feeling better?” I asked.

  “I feel great,” she said. “You can go now.”

  “Not a chance,” I said. “Are you hungry?”

  “I'm starving, but I'm afraid to eat,” she answered.

  “I'm hungry too,” I said, as I stood up from the couch and slipped my feet into my shoes.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “I'm going to grab us something to eat,” I said. “What are you in the mood for?”

  There was no way anyone could miss her reaction. Lucy flew up off the couch and was standing in front of me in seconds.

  “Don't go,” she yelled out like I wasn't right there in front of her.

  “You drive me crazy, woman,” I said with a shake of my head. “First, you're practically throwing me out the door. Then you're standing in front of me begging me not to go. I'm just going to get food. I'll be back before you know it. I know I'm sexy and all but damn.”

  She reached out and grabbed onto my arms. I could feel her hands shaking against my skin. Then tears ran from her eyes.

  “Do not go,” she demanded with her bottom lip quivering.

  I heard her get cocky and loud so many times. But there was something different in that moment. It was like she was holding onto me for dear life. I felt like she was afraid for me to leave.

  “Lucy,” I snapped, as I grabbed her fingers that were beginning to cut through the skin on my arms.

  Her hands were shaking so hard. I pulled her over to the couch. Then I sat down and pulled her onto my lap. Her arms wrapped around my neck tight. She was not going to let go. I wrapped mine around her trying to let her know that everything was okay. Her head was buried in my neck, and I could feel her tears dripping down my skin to my shirt. My heart hurt for the woman in my arms. I had no idea what was going on, but I knew she was devastated and I had no idea what to do to help her.

  “Everything's okay, Lucy,” I whispered, as I ran my hand up and down her back over and over. “You're okay.”

  “Please don't go get food. I'll find us something here. Don't go out there for me. You can't leave right now.”

  She was talking into my neck, but I could still hear her words.

  “Look at me,” I said.

  She shook her head no.

  “I am begging you to look at me, Firecracker,” I said softly. “I need to see your eyes. I need to know you're okay.”

  She pulled back slowly. I felt like someone punched me in stomach when our eyes connected. There was something in hers I couldn't explain. I wasn't sure if it was fear or something else. Her hands were clutching my shirt in them.

  “Do you want to talk about it?” I asked.

  “No,” she answered.

  “Are you okay?” I asked.

  “I will be as long as you let me find us something here,” she said.

  I couldn't figure out what could have set her off, but I knew it was something horrible. The relief that washed over her when I said I wouldn't leave was obvious. I felt he
r body instantly relax. My smart mouthed, cocky woman was definitely dealing with something. I wasn't the kind of man to care about a woman for longer than a few hours, but I was finding myself caring for Lucy way more than I wanted to.

  I stood up and pulled her with me toward the kitchen.

  “We need to get you something to eat,” I said.

  Two weeks, I thought, as I walked with her hand in mine. I'd have two weeks to get her out of my mind. I just had to get through one more night.

  Chapter 9

  Lucy

  I flipped out on Lance. The second he stood up and said he was going out to get us food, I had to say something. There was no way I could let him do it. I knew it probably sounded like I was being ridiculous, but I wasn't. The last time a man had done something like that for me, they died. I couldn't be the reason another man lost his life. I knew the chances of that happening were very slim, but it was dark out. That was even worse. He probably thought I lost my damn mind. I'd let my walls drop for a just a moment and was completely vulnerable. That seemed to be happening a lot around him. When he took me in his arms and told me everything would be okay, I felt the safest I'd ever felt in my life. There was something about those big arms and his tone when I was hurting that made me feel like I was special. I knew I wasn't, not to him anyway. When he told me he wouldn't go, my body relaxed. He would never know how much that meant to me.

  We went to the kitchen and made some sandwiches. I had some chips as well. We grabbed two sodas and our plates and sat down in front of the television to watch a movie. I let him pick which one and could tell he was surprised. The poor man had dealt with way more than anyone I knew when it came to me, and he was willing to stay the rest of the night. He deserved the movie choice. I'd give him shit next time, I thought. Yes, I said next time.

  As soon as we were done eating, Lance grabbed my plate and set them both on the coffee table. Then he put his hand on my head to feel for a fever. He pulled me into his arms. My head was against his chest, and I could hear his heartbeat. It was a very comforting sound.

  “How are you feeling?” he asked.

  “Very good actually,” I said. “You can go home.”

  “That wasn't why I asked,” he said. “Sometimes it's nice to have someone there for you. Not everything has to be done alone.”

  I let out a huff, and he pinched my ass.

  “Look, Firecracker,” he said, with his mouth against the top of my head. “I'm here because I want to be here for you right now. Can you just leave it at that please? It doesn't have to be some complicated, fucked up thing.”

  “It's the strangest thing. I feel like I wasn't even sick. That was how I felt last night too. I'm hoping I'm done with it though. That is some awful stuff. I know that you have to leave tomorrow. You haven't been home hardly at all. You have to pack and check things out at your house. That is the only reason I said you should go. I just don't want you to feel rushed tomorrow. You need to be safe. If you want to stay here, I am more than happy to annoy you.”

  “You didn't want me to leave an hour ago. Now you are saying to go again. What's up with that, Lucy?” he asked.

  I pulled back and looked up at him.

  “Not something I can talk about,” I said honestly. “I didn't want you leaving to do something for me. Can we just leave it at that?”

  He closed his eyes for a moment before nodding his head. I put my head back down against his chest so I could hear his heartbeat again.

  “Is it hard to be gone for two weeks?” I asked in more of a whisper.

  “It didn't use to be,” was all he said before turning the movie back on.

  When the movie was over, he checked the door and turned everything off while I went to brush my teeth. I had already put a toothbrush out for him that Friday. He walked into the bathroom just as I was walking out.

  “Still feeling okay?” he asked.

  “I am,” I said.

  When I walked back into my bedroom, the covers had been pulled back and waiting. I crawled in and he followed moments later. He'd gotten down to his boxers, and I was still wearing my shorts and tank top. I turned in his arms and reached down under the sheets. Before I could make contact with his cock, he grabbed my hand and pulled it up on his chest.

  “What's wrong?” I asked.

  “Not tonight, Firecracker. Believe me when I say this is one of the hardest things I have ever done. You haven't been feeling well. I want you to rest. So turn that sweet ass over and let me hold you.”

  Lance was turning down sex. I couldn't believe it. We hadn't done anything the day before either. He was still there, and he wasn't expecting anything. I really did feel fine, but he wasn't having it. I turned around in his arms and quickly fell asleep.

  When I woke up, he squeezed tight around me. I was so happy he remembered to set my alarm for work. I had completely forgotten about it.

  “Go get ready,” he said. “I'll get us some breakfast.”

  “Really?” I asked.

  “Yes,” he said sarcastically. “I can tell you're feeling better.”

  I smiled wide and turned, making sure to shake my ass on the way to the bathroom. He let out a growl from behind me, and I burst into laughter before quickly closing the door and locking it.

  “Good choice,” he said. “I wouldn't want to make you late for work.”

  We had eggs and toast before walking out of my apartment together. I watched him get into his car and drive away after telling him to be careful. It wasn't easy letting him go. I knew I was going to miss him. He'd taken care of me for two days. I couldn't believe he'd given up that time for me when he could have been out with his friends or at home in that huge house of his.

  I felt fine the entire day at work and was in the best mood ever. I actually looked forward to going home like everyone else in the office. When I got home, I decided to clean the apartment but first made myself something small to eat. I made a plate and plopped down in front of the television to catch up on a couple of shows I had recorded over the weekend. Just as I was setting my plate down on the coffee table, I noticed the notebook. When I picked it up, I burst into laughter. Lance had answered my questions, wrote some of his own, and even drew a diagram of the field with his ass as the pitcher. Then I read the comment about him in uniform and laughed so damn hard that my stomach hurt. I quickly picked up my phone and opened a text.

  Me: Very funny, Ballplayer.

  I figured it would be hours before he read it. He was probably on the road or at practice or something. I turned the show I'd paused back on and was shocked to hear the ding of the phone so quickly. When I turned it back on to read the response I was hoping was his, I burst into laughter all over again. There were two pictures. One was of his ass in his uniform pants. The words above it said “You have no idea how hard it was to get my buddy to take this.” The other was a full-body pic of him in his uniform with the sexiest smile on his face. The words above it said “Which side looks better?” I pulled my legs up under me on the couch and began typing.

  Me: I'm not sure which side I like better. That ass is nice and tight and feels amazing in my hands, but that sexy as fuck smile you've got going on has me thinking twice about my answer. I bet the ladies are all over your shit with a smile like that. Maybe you should frown the rest of the time you're gone.

  Hotshot: Don't be jealous, Firecracker.

  Me: I'm not jealous, Hotshot. I just need to keep you around for the next time I get sick. Thank you again for that.

  Hotshot: Anytime, babe. Are you feeling better?

  I sat holding the phone looking at the word babe. It was the first time he'd referred to me as anything other than Lucy or Firecracker that I noticed. Had he realized he'd typed that, I wondered? Was it something he often said? Certain people have words they use for everyone. I'd never heard him say it before though. It was nothing. He hadn't meant it the way my mind was working it, and I knew it. We both knew where we stood, and I needed to move right on along.
<
br />   Me: I've felt great all day. I'm about to clean in a few minutes. Are you having a good day?

  Hotshot: I went home to pack, had practice, and now I'm waiting with the guys to board a plane. We don't have to wait very long though. We have a game tomorrow and the next day. Then we'll be on a bus.

  Me: Did you get something to eat between practice and now? Make sure you eat before you get on the plane.

  Hotshot: We ate after practice. Thanks for caring though.

  Me: Yeah, yeah whatever.

  Hotshot: You going to watch me play tomorrow?

  Me: Why would I do that?

  Hotshot: So you can see my sexy ass on television.

  Me: Nope. I've got better things to do.

  We went back and forth until he said he was shutting his phone off. I asked him if he would text when they landed, and he said he would. I must have fallen asleep on the couch waiting. When I woke up and took off for the bathroom, the sun was coming through the windows. What the fuck, I thought? I was perfectly fine the day the before. How could I have felt that good before getting sick again?

  When I finally made it back to the living room, I grabbed my phone to see a new text from him and one from Carrie's mom.

  Hotshot: I'm still alive. I'll talk to you tomorrow.

  I read his text one more time and couldn't help the shiver that shook my shoulders. I'm still alive. That bothered me. I closed the message before I could let it get to me too much. He had no idea that wasn't the right thing to say. I hadn't told him anything about my past. I quickly opened a new message to my boss.

  Me: I won't be in today. I'm not feeling well. I'm hoping to feel better tomorrow. If not, I'll make an appointment with my doctor.

  I knew he'd ask if I was going to the doctor so I covered it all in one message. He was a great boss, and I knew he'd go all dad on me if I didn't answer correctly.

  Once I'd sent the message, I opened the one from Carrie's mom. In my phone she was listed as C's mom. I wanted to list her as mom but felt some strange guilt doing it.

  C's mom: How are you feeling?

  If there was anyone I could ask, it was her. My own mom wasn't someone I could call to ask about how I was feeling. She would see it as a nuisance and tell me she wasn't a doctor. Carrie was busy being a honeymooner and mother. Carrie's mom would take the time to give a shit about what I was feeling.