My stomach plummets with his comparison. “You know it’s different.”
“Do I?”
“You pulled the same shit.” My hand rests on the doorknob of the bathroom door, ready to slam it in his face.
“All I’m saying is, everyone has their time, and maybe I’m trying to rush you into coming to your senses. I have many regrets. On the top of the list is leaving Beltline. Do what you want. But you’re punishing her for something you’ve done. So she has a past? So what? So do you.”
He steps away.
“Thanks, Dr. Phil. I’ll be sure to tune in next week for session two.” I slam the door to the bathroom, turn on the water for the shower, and take off the last of my wet clothes before stepping under the stream of warm water.
I’m in the midst of rinsing my shampoo out of my hair when Crosby’s voice alerts me to his presence in the room.
“Thanks for letting me borrow your notes for Business Affairs.”
“I think you could have left them on my desk!” I yell over the sound of the water.
“Yeah, well, you don’t much care to see what’s right in front of you, much less out of your vision, so I figured, this way, you would know I returned them.”
“Thanks. You can leave now.”
“Sure thing,” he says with a little too much pep in his voice.
I’ll never understand that guy.
After my shower routine is complete, I open the curtain, grab my towel, and see exactly why he left my notes in the bathroom.
Bastard has made his point.
27
Ainsley
It’s been almost four whole days since I returned from Chicago without Brax. He hasn’t reached out, and I haven’t either. The only thing I do know is, Delaney and Cade were chatting last night about a party at his house. They were in the living room, and I was upstairs, about ready to come downstairs.
I didn’t have to tell them that Chicago hadn’t ended well. The fact that I came home alone with bloodshot eyes was enough of a clue. Add on that Brax never came over to see me, and they figured it out. They’re smart like that.
It’s business as normal now. I’m going to do what I set out to do to begin with. My grades and getting into Feinberg School of Medicine are top priorities once again. I let Braxton Brentwood detour me for way too long.
“Are you going to the student center?” Ethan comes alongside me as I descend the steps of Manchester Hall.
“No. I don’t see myself going there for a while.”
Like ever.
“Why? Usually, Brax is there, right?”
I stop and stare over at him. You mean, news hasn’t traveled that far yet?
“We’re not together,” I tell him because he will find out eventually.
A slow smile crosses his face before he tamps it back down, seeing how unamused I am.
If anything, I’m hurt. Hurt that we both let all the shit with Mike get between us. Hurt because I’m a moron, and I should have told him the way I felt. Maybe that would have helped.
“Ainsley!”
I recognize Ella’s voice immediately.
I turn around, finding her walking toward me with her hand waving in the air. Her messenger bag swings from side to side.
“Hey, Ella.” My voice is lower than usual because I haven’t seen her since the incident.
“Hi, Ainsley.” She side-glances at Ethan. “Ethan.” He gets a much chillier reception than myself.
“Ella.”
My eyes move between them. “Am I missing something? Do you guys know one another?”
“She thinks she knows everything,” Ethan answers first.
Surprising he would say that since he’s usually the one with his hand up in the air a millisecond after a professor has asked a question.
Ella crinkles her eyes his way and shakes her head. “Hey. Well”—all her attention focuses on me—“I need your phone number.”
She pulls out her phone, opening I’m guessing her address book, and she arms her thumbs into position.
“Um…” I hesitate. “You do know, right?”
She looks to Ethan and back to me. “Are you two going somewhere?” she asks me.
“No.”
“We were going to the student center,” Ethan chimes in.
I wonder when he’ll get the point. Even if I’m not with Brax, my heart still is. He doesn’t stand a chance with me.
“No, we weren’t,” I add.
Ella swings her arm through mine. “Sorry, Ethan.” Her voice is syrupy sweet. “We need to have girl talk.” She walks us away, leaving Ethan standing in the middle of the sidewalk, staring out at us. “He’s nice, kind of, but a little clingy.”
I don’t dispute as I look up to find out she’s leading us straight to the student center.
My feet skid to a stop, and she falters forward for a second until she stabilizes herself.
“Come on.” Her head tilts in the direction of the student center.
“I’m not going there.”
“He’s not there. He got wasted last night, and Crosby messaged me right before class, saying that he was still out.”
I nod. “Okay, but if he shows up, I’m out.”
She pulls her phone out of her back pocket again. “Then, I need to make sure I have your phone number.”
I ramble it off, and she texts me. My phone dings.
“Now, we don’t need Brax to connect us.”
I allow her to take charge and lead me right into the middle of the area between the library and student center. Spring break is next week, and I know the guys have their first tournament. At least then, I won’t have to worry about whom I might run into at Ridgemont.
There’s a large concrete area on the left, and the library is on the right. In the middle are the flag posts, and there are steps around a water fountain donated by the Alumni Club ten years ago. I remember that because it was my dad’s class that donated it. I came along with Cade and my grandma to represent him.
“Brax is a confusing guy.”
I shake my head, resembling a toddler ready to throw a fit. “Nope. If we’re going to have this friendship, we’ll have it without talking about Brax.”
Her arm slides through mine again, and she puts herself flush against my body. “Please don’t hate me,” she whispers.
My body halts all movements. My stomach drops to depths of what I imagine the darkness of the ocean is.
She releases her arm from mine and steps away, leaving me in the middle of the student center courtyard with Brax standing on the stairs with a piece of paper in his hands.
With the weather being nicer, students are loitering on the stairs and outside the student center in the windowsills. All their eyes are on me.
I’m surprised I don’t have whiplash from how much I’m shaking my head, but I shake it again. “No, Brax.” My eyes focus on the bricks with the names of the donors as I walk away.
“Wait.” He jogs down the steps, and his hand touches my elbow.
How did he get down the stairs so fast?
“Just give me a second.” His voice is low and respectful.
“Nothing will change, except I’ll be more embarrassed in front of all these people.” I look at him through the corner of my eyes.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”
I shrug my arm out of his hold. “Just go, Brax. Live your life. Enter the draft.”
I walk away, and for a second, I think he’s going to let me go.
“Fuck the draft!” he screams.
Laughter rings out in the plaza.
I swallow down the embarrassment and continue walking.
“Childhood dream,” he calls out. “That’s on the pro side.”
The piece of paper in his hand. Is he seriously going to list off every pro point?
“Money. That’s number two as a pro,” he continues talking as my footsteps slow. “I only have one con. One, Ainsley.”
I’ve never heard the plaza
so quiet, but everyone is fixated on the charismatic Braxton Brentwood, who is about to announce his decision.
Or so they think.
“Turn around because I do not want either of us to remember this with your back turned to me.”
He’s closer now, and I stop. Inhaling a deep breath, I circle around, finding Ella and Crosby nearby, their backs resting against a brick wall.
“The reason for a pro and con list is so that you see which side weighs heavier.”
I snatch the piece of paper from his hands.
Sure enough, there’s only one reason on the con list while the rest are under the pro.
“I would take a chance and enter without caring about my education. I’d leave Crosby and the guys because I know I’d see them at some point. The money, the travel, and my childhood dream would be coming true. But you, Ainsley, you alone are worth twenty pros.”
My arms drop to my sides, and he steps forward.
“I never wanted this to happen. Us. You scared the shit out of me, but I fell in love with you. So deeply in love with you that, even if I were the number one draft pick, every day would be gut-wrenching because I would be apart from you.”
“No, Brax. There’s too much against us.” My eyes look around. “What about Mike?” I whisper.
His palms press to my cheeks. “You’re mine. Not his. You gave me a piece of yourself he never had. Just like anyone before you. None of them got the real Brax. Only you.”
The huge boulder rolls off my shoulders and smashes into a million pieces on the cement ground.
“I want you to enter the draft,” I say.
He’s already shaking his head before I complete the sentence.
“Please. I can’t live with knowing that you gave it up for me.”
He laughs, his eyes staring down at me. “I’m not giving it up. I’ll enter next year after earning my degree and having a whole other year with you. I told you, baby; one day, we’ll be on that float.”
I rush into his arms, squeezing him as hard as I can.
He draws back. “I think you forgot something.”
I stare up at him, his smile drawing my own out.
“Don’t you ever embarrass me like this again.” I lightly punch him in the stomach.
“I was looking for an I love you, but as long as I have you, it can wait.”
I jump and swing my legs around his waist. Now, it’s my hands on his cheeks and his on my ass.
“I love you, Braxton Brentwood.”
I lean in to kiss him, but he cocks his head back.
“It’s Brax.”
I laugh and nod. “I love you, Brax.”
Epilogue (Seven Years Later)
Brax
I pull up to the cookie-cutter house we rented during spring training. My legs are sore, and my arm is tired. Should have worked out harder during break. The nice weather of Arizona is an awesome change of pace though. The fact that I’m wearing shorts and a T-shirt and it’s February with the heat beating down on my neck makes me feel like it is baseball season.
Pulling my duffel bag out of the backseat and shutting the door, I’m not looking forward to tonight.
Ainsley is back in Chicago. She’s in her second year of residency. The scheduling hasn’t always been the best, but we’ve made do with both of us having such demanding careers.
This is always the worst week, I remind myself.
It’s the first week after spending all my off time with her back in Chicago. We’re in for another grueling schedule with quick trips back and forth. Hell, last year, I wasn’t all that disappointed that my team, the Cincinnati Reds, hadn’t made the play-offs. It meant my off-season could start earlier.
A year and a half is all we have left, and then we’ll plant the roots we’ve been planning. Neither of us would change our decisions. We’re each living our dreams, and we have each other.
I insert the key into the lock, the despair piling on my shoulders. My phone rings, and I pull it out of my pocket.
“Just tell me what you’re wearing,” I answer.
Her soft giggle rings over the line.
That despair that weighed down my shoulders lifts slightly.
“Remember that purple lacy bra and thong?” Her voice dips an octave lower to her seductive voice.
There have been a lot of nights of imagining in the last six years.
“Those are under my scrubs.”
Damn, she knows what thinking about her in her scrubs does to me. Especially when the thin fabric is barely a separation between us.
“When are you off?” I ask.
“Actually, I’m off. It was slow. I wish I could be there with you tonight. Why don’t you go out with the guys?”
I’m shaking my head although she can’t see me. “Nah, I’d rather talk to you all night.”
“You sure you’re doing okay? This is the first year—”
“Ains, I’m good.”
“Okay.” She lets the topic go.
“Let’s skip the foreplay today. I need to come like a rocket with you instructing me on how to stroke my dick. Hold up, I’m almost in the house.”
She laughs again. “How is the house?” she asks as I turn the key.
“It’s the usual. Pulled into the wrong driveway last night.”
Her laugh lightens my heart.
“Damn, I wish you were here, so I could swallow down that laugh. I’d rip your scrubs off.”
“Hold on, baby. Wait until you’re inside.”
She’s giggling again, and I wonder why she’s in such a good mood.
I open the door, and I know exactly where the giddiness in her voice is coming from.
“Where are you?” I ask, dropping my duffel bag to the floor.
“Come find me,” she whispers.
And the line dies.
I follow the trail of candles through the living room and stop at the dining room table where one single candle is lit with a note beside it. I drop my keys and my phone on the table.
Opening up the envelope, I’m half-tempted to scour the house for her, but she does these surprises often, and she’ll just make me go back through the steps, prolonging my wait to have her in my arms.
Her handwriting is scribbled, the doctor in her showing.
Remember how magical New Year’s Eve was? Now, follow the candles to your next instructions. Oh, but leave your shoes and socks here.
I drop the note and toe out of my shoes and socks. Barefoot, I follow the candles to the kitchen, but she’s not there. There is another note though.
Remember the fireworks that exploded in the air outside the window right as I fell over that edge to bliss?
I smile, that romantic memory coming to life in my brain.
Drop the shirt.
Now, shirtless and barefoot, I follow the candles to the bottom of the stairs. Another note is propped up on the banister.
Remember you staying inside me, your arms holding me to you, as we watched the fireworks, naked in our bed? This is where your shorts stay.
I hook my thumbs into the sides of my shorts and slide them down my legs, leaving me naked since I took a shower at the training facility and freeballed it home.
I look to read the last line of the letter.
Come find me.
I run up the stairs, double time, but the trail stops. I look at the guest room door and then the master’s. She has to be in the master bedroom.
I turn the doorknob, opening the door, but she’s not there. On the bed rests another note.
Remember my breasts pressing against the glass shower door as you took me? How the water cascaded down our bodies? Go shower.
My dick goes into full salute. “You have got to be fucking kidding me,” I murmur. “Ainsley!” I yell.
Small laughter rings out from the closet.
“I took a shower at the training center.”
I open the door to my closet, and there she is, naked, with chocolate frosting covering her tits and licori
ce panties.
“Baby,” I say, rushing over to her.
But she holds her hand to my chest and walks forward.
She leads us to the bed, and my eyes get a good look at what I’m about to feast on.
“You’re ruining all my surprises.” She cocks an eyebrow, but her lips are curved at the corners.
“You’re all the surprise I need.” I look down at her hand planted on my chest with the sparkling diamond wedding ring that always warms my heart.
She’s mine. All mine.
With a small push, I willingly fall to the bed.
“You know I love it when you’re dominating.” I chuckle.
She shakes her head.
“Happy Birthday, Brax,” she says.
In the years since we first met, I’ve enjoyed birthdays more. The days are hard, but with Ainsley, they’ve gotten easier.
“Since you’ve ruined the rest of my surprises, you want your gift now?”
I sit up, grabbing her ass, and my tongue licks the frosting off her right tit.
“I’m not your gift,” she says, backing away from me.
I want to follow her, but she puts her finger in front of my face.
Running back through the door of the master bedroom, she disappears.
“I’m good with you being my gift! Can I open up the shirt or pants another time?”
“Do you not usually like my gifts?” she yells from the other room.
“I love your gifts, but I need you right now.”
“I’m off all weekend. We have time together.”
If I thought I was sore when I got home, come Monday, my dick is going to be done for after a whole weekend with her.
“Good, but let’s get it started now.”
“Hold on.”
She walks in with a double-chocolate cake in her hands with a row of candles lit up, glowing her smiling face. A wrapped box is tucked under her arm, and she stops right at the edge of the bed. “Make a wish, and blow out your candles.”
“I have everything I need.” My face hovers over the candles.
She tilts her head. “Everything?” she asks.
“Yeah.”
Extra Innings Page 19
