by Ward,Alice
“What Ace would do?” Holly finished for me again, her voice soft.
I shot her a yeah, I’m sorry look. “After Whit and I talked, I cleaned up everything, even my house. Hell, I got a new bed so she wouldn’t have to lay where those women had…”
I stopped. Thinking.
“What?” Holly asked in alarm.
“The bed!” I jerked Holly’s arm, pulling her to the master suite. “This bed. I bought it after I spoke to Whitney. They delivered it that same night.”
I was ecstatic that I had proof of that one thing.
Holly busted my bubble. “What does that prove?” Holly asked, unimpressed with my declaration.
“It proves that the picture was taken before I bought the new bed,” I explained like I was talking to a toddler.
She crossed her arms over her chest. “So, how would she know when you bought the bed?”
“The furniture store, Ralph, he would have the invoice,” I announced. “Ask her to look at the bed in the picture; it’s not the same bed.”
“You sound crazy, Calvin,” Holly said. “You really need to get some help.”
“Tell her!” I yelled, holding her arms tightly, forcing her to face me.
“Okay, okay,” she agreed, saying the words slowly. “But, I don’t see how that really proves anything; you could just have your buddy fudge the dates.”
For me, it was a start, and that was better than I had before. I helped her carry Whitney’s bags to Ace’s Porsche and then made her promise to talk to Whitney one last time before I let her leave.
After she shut the door, she rolled down the window and dropped a bomb at my feet. “So, Calvin, who took the picture of you and the sluts?”
Shit.
She smirked at me, the look more of disgust. “That’s what I thought.”
Before I could say a word, the Porsche roared to life, and she was gone.
***
I dreaded showing up to the stadium that next day. I’d barely gotten any sleep, and my jaw was swollen and still red from Ace’s fist. With Whitney’s stuff gone and no way to get in touch with her, I had no idea if she was even still in New York. For all I knew, she had gotten on an airplane and headed back home, or even worse, moved to Rhett’s house and let his charm ease her pain. Or Todd Morris. Hell, I was sure millions of guys would be willing to comfort my girl.
Coach stopped me at the locker room entrance and examined my jaw. “How’d this happen?” he asked just as Ace walked in. He stopped him too, leaving us standing side by side. I peeked over at Ace, his eye was swollen and colored with a deep purple that was almost black. I smirked, happy that he looked worse than I did.
“Okay, whatever happened between you two, it’s not coming on to the field. Got it?” Coach snapped.
We both agreed, and he let Ace pass but stopped me from going any farther. I was pulled to his desk, sat in the chair and was made to listen to a ten-minute lecture on my behavior during yesterday’s game. “I made the mistake of showing you the tabloid,” he admitted. “I didn’t know Whitney was back.”
“Well, she’s not anymore,” I half snarled half pouted.
“Now, whose fault is that, boy? You trying to blame me?” Damn. The man was scary when he was angry.
“No, sir,” I said and dropped my face in my hands. “Sorry.”
“I’m sure you’ll work it out,” he offered. “If she came back after all the stunts you pulled, why would she care about this?”
I didn’t want to get into the politics of it with him, I just wanted to be released from his rantings and lecturing. “I hope you’re right, sir.”
***
I’d been able to avoid the press the past few games as I waited for my next rotation, but I was up and knew I couldn’t avoid them today. When I walked into the locker room, Coach was the first person I saw.
He narrowed his eyes at me. “Can I trust you on the mound today, son?”
I nodded, meeting him his eyes. “Yes, sir. I have some making up to do. To you and our fans.”
He nodded, dismissing me, and I headed to my locker to get dressed for pre-game practice. I was feeling lighter, then ran into Ace.
“I’m not done with you yet, boy,” he warned with the smirk I’d come to loathe.
I smirked right back. After all, Whitney was gone, my reputation was smeared, and my jaw was still swollen as all hell. What else could this bastard do to me?
“Hope you have a good game too, Ace,” I said, deciding to simply take the high road on this one.
Hours later, the game was about to begin, and I stepped to the mound, turning to face my catcher and the empty seats behind him, ignoring the boos coming from the stand when my name was called.
I refused to look up at the skybox. Refused to look anywhere but at the plate, and the batter who was stepping up to it.
Strike.
Hell yeah.
Strike two.
Fuck yeah.
Strike three, and I knew I’d be alright.
And I was.
As each batter took the plate, I mentally scanned through their statistics, their weaknesses, and their strengths as they stood there staring me down. My fingers rolled around the ball as the catcher offered his options, my head shaking until we agreed with where my fingers would lie on the seams, and I nodded.
A swing and a miss. Three times. You’re out.
I didn’t believe this team was worried about our game today, especially since I’d fallen apart and looked to be out of my groove. Well, boys, you should have come prepared because golden arm is back and thirsty for blood.
Every inning, I struck out batter after batter. Our guys slammed the hell out of the balls pitched to them and scored seven runs by the fourth inning. Me fucking included. Fans were cheering as I stepped on the base. Looked like all was forgiven.
By the sixth, I had their batters all jammed up. My pitches were so precise to each batters’ weakness, I was unstoppable. In the seventh inning, I expected to be pulled. I honestly had no idea how many balls I’d thrown over the plate.
But Coach just leaned against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest, a little smile on his face. Alrighty then, I’ll keep going.
I finished the entire game, something that rarely happens anymore, with another no-hitter. I’d almost thrown a perfect game. Adrenaline rushed through my veins like fire eating up paper. Everyone cheered, came to lift me off my feet and pat me on the back. Everyone except Ace.
Fuck him.
The press loved me again, and I answered question after question for nearly an hour after the game. I signed balls for another hour, doing my best to make up for being such an ass. I smiled for selfies and shook hands. These were my fans, they deserved better than what I’d been giving them.
The locker was mostly cleared out by the time I got back in there, which was a blessing. The few remaining were talking about the party at Ace’s.
“You going?” Marty asked as I got iced up and went through post-game rehab.
“I wasn’t invited,” I said with a laugh. “Not that I would anyway.”
“Want me to go? Do some recon?”
“Really?” I couldn’t imagine Marty as a spy, at least not a very good one. “Sure, you could do that,” I said, deciding it was best to just not argue with him. Plus, he looked excited to be playing 007.
He hung out with me until I was finished and was ready to head to my SUV. Marty waved as he climbed into his red truck, and I laughed as I realized he was scampering off to be a mole, something he could never pull off. There was nothing smooth about Marty. He didn’t have many friends, aside from Frank, so it wasn’t like anyone would even tell him what was going on, if there was, in fact, something going on at all. Oh well, it would keep him busy for the night. Now I just needed to find something to keep myself busy.
***
I sat out by my pool with my phone in hand. It was hot outside, the air thick and muggy and a dip in the cool water sounded refreshing, but
I couldn’t get motivated to do it. I didn’t want to do anything. I dialed Whitney’s number and got the same “mailbox is full” bullshit. I felt like a stalker as I dialed it three more times.
I had Holly’s number in my phone and knew she’d know where Whitney was, even if she might not tell me, so I dialed it. It rang twice and then connected. I waited for Holly to say “hello” or “fuck off,” but I only heard music for a few seconds before the call dropped. I was getting ready to dial her again when my phone rang, Holly’s number on the screen.
I tapped accept. “Hello?”
Nothing but the same music from before.
“Hello!” I screamed into the receiver.
Nothing but music. She must have butt dialed me by mistake when she shoved her phone back in her pocket.
I heard her voice, then another female. I turned up the volume and hit the speaker button to try to make out the conversation. It was Whitney, I knew that for certain, but I couldn’t make out what she was saying.
“He’s not good enough for you,” a man said loud and clear. “He’s a liar and cheat, always will be.” I couldn’t recognize who it was.
Whitney mumbled something I couldn’t make out. What the fuck was she saying?
“I’ve seen many a good kid turn in this world,” the man said.
Whitney said something else. A mumble but it sounded like, “I love him.”
Oh God, if she loves me, there’s a chance, and these bastards are all trying to turn her against me!
I gripped my keys and rushed out my front door. I was heading to Ace’s, to confront the guy, to make Whitney listen, to get my life back.
I didn’t bother to knock, knowing Ace left his door open for his large parties. The place was crowded, and the usual naked girls and team members were floating around the house. I didn’t see Ace. I figured he was upstairs shoving cocaine up his nose while his guests ran wild unsupervised. The back room behind the kitchen had a large red sofa and a big screen TV, it was the quietest place in the entire house so I rushed through the kitchen, hoping to find Whitney there to talk some sense into her before she got on a plane and flew home. I knew she would never come back again, not after this.
Rhett sat on the couch next to Whitney and fucking Todd Morris was on her other side, his arm around her shoulders. She was smiling, even laughing it looked like.
Was he flirting with her? Was she enjoying it?
Every emotion known to man ran through me — rage, fear, sadness, even joy. Happiness at the thought of getting to see her again, to maybe to talk to her, touch her. She was just within my reach.
“What are you doing here?” Holly asked, her eyes wide with surprise as she stepped between me and Whitney.
I turned from her to look at Whitney, who hadn’t seen me yet.
She grabbed my arm, but I didn’t try to shake her off. This was Whitney’s friend, and she was only trying to protect her. I laid my hand on hers, turning back so she could see my eyes. See the truth in them.
“It’s okay, Holly. After she hears me out, if she still wants to leave, I’ll never call her again.”
Holly’s face softened, and she did that quick blinking thing again. “Please don’t hurt her again,” she said with a soft sigh, then gave me the stink eye and punched me in the arm.
Thinking that was my cue to move forward, I gave her a reassuring smile and headed straight toward my girl. Todd Morris looked up and his arm tightened around her shoulders as our eyes met. “Can I help you?” Morris snarled.
Whitney looked up, and there they were, those beautiful eyes. So green, so perfect I wanted to dive into them. “Hey, can we talk?”
It was like everyone in the room froze for an instant, then reanimated, then sped up. Rhett shot up from the couch while Morris nestled Whitney closer to him. A hand came down on my shoulder, a quick glance showed me it was attached to Ace.
I didn’t shake him off. I didn’t raise my voice. I only looked at her.
“From the moment I spoke to you on the phone, there’s been no one but you. I have proof, if you’re interested in seeing it. And if you aren’t…” I swallowed hard, knowing these next words were going to be the hardest I ever had to say, “then I hope you have a happy life and that you find someone you can trust and grow old with. Someone who loves you the way I love you, but who treats you as you deserve.”
She just sat there, not moving, not blinking. A stone would have been more animated. My heart sank into my toes.
I nodded and swallowed again. “Goodbye.”
As I turned, Ace’s arm fell off my shoulder, and I walked from the room, past a crying Holly. Past half my teammates. Past fucking Caroline, who blew me a kiss.
Ace stopped me at the door, grabbing my arm and whipping me around. “So that’s it?” he asked with his patented smirk.
I nodded. “Yeah. Sometimes you just have to let fate play out her hand.”
From the corner of my eye, I saw Caroline stand and take a step toward us. Still looking at Ace, I asked, “Why is she here?”
He followed my gaze and lifted a shoulder. “We’re friends, we fuck. Why do you care?”
I waited until he met my eyes again. “How much did the tabloids pay?”
His face turned into a mask of confusion, then his eyes widened. “Did she…?”
“Yeah.” I clapped him on the shoulder and tossed his words back to him. “Beware, Ace. She’s a man eater. I wouldn’t be surprised if you’re next.”
I heard him mutter, “Fuck,” as I walked out the door.
I didn’t make it very far. On legs too weary to make it another step, I sank down on Ace’s little porch. Dropping my face in my hands, I pressed my fingers into my scalp, almost to the point of pain.
The door behind me clicked, then someone sat beside me. It was her.
Whitney nudged me with her shoulder. “Hey.”
I nudged her back, lifting my head so I could see her. “Hey.”
My face burned and my throat clogged as she linked her fingers through mine.
“So… I heard you wanted to talk to me,” she deadpanned, causing me to laugh.
I brought her hand to my mouth and kissed her fingers. “Who in the world told you that?”
Her smile was tender and so very beautiful. “Let’s call it women’s intuition.”
“I’m sorry, Whit,” I told her.
The smile faded. “I know. Me too.”
I frowned at her. “Why are you sorry? You did nothing wrong.”
That got a laugh out of her. “I wish that was true. I was such a bitch to you, almost from the moment I arrived in New York. I didn’t even know that girl was inside of me, but…” she hissed like a cat, pretend clawing at me. We both laughed, and I kissed her hand again.
“It was a big lifestyle jump for both of us, and I let it go to my head,” I confessed.
“And I let those awful tabloids get to me.” She laughed and made a cha-ching sound. “And your credit card.”
“So we both made mistakes,” I said, leaning into her.
Her head rested on my shoulder and sighed with that soft little squeak I loved so much. “Yeah, we did. Must be a rookie thing.”
I kissed her hair. “Yeah, it must be.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
e
Whitney
Over the next several days, we completely cleared the air between us. I attended his games even though he was in the dugout waiting for his rotation to pitch. After the games, we’d come home and talk some more. Even though Calvin usually hated this kind of stuff, he never once complained or seemed irritated by my need to talk all of this through. At night, I slept in my own room, not wanting sex to rush things between us.
I told him of the three men I’d slept with since our separation, and he told me about his… uh, more than three.
It was painful to hear, but it was good at the same time. Soul cleansing in many ways.
No, I never slept with Rhett. He was very flirty and attentive, b
ut I realized he was like that with everyone. And I told him about Todd, how he’d fallen in love with me and wanted me back.
“Well, most couples find each other in their twenties, after they’d already sowed some wild oats,” I told him after we’d asked each other all our questions. “You and I were practically children when we met, so…”
“So we’ll call this our wild oats rookie season?” Calvin added helpfully.
I laughed, then pointed at his crotch, giving him the stink eye. “You better keep those oats in there from now on.”
He kissed me then, long and deep. Desire curled in my lower belly. “These oats are only for you,” he whispered against my lips.
“They better be.” I pinched his side and he yelped. The war was on.
In an instant, we were tickling each other and rolling around on the floor like children. We were back. Through the hell of his rookie season, we’d found each other again. Better, more grown up versions of the people we had loved so much only a few months ago.
As he was tickling me, his hand accidently covered my breast, and we both froze, staring into each other’s eyes. It had been so long since he’d touched me like that. Since before I left him the first time. In those short few days we’d had together before the tabloid ripped our world apart again, we had slept together, but hadn’t made love.
I was nervous, I realized as I pushed his shirt up to feel his skin. He was warm and solid, the muscles rippling beneath my fingers.
“I’d like some of those oats now,” I whispered and watched his eyes dilate.
He pushed my hair out of my face, trying to read me. “You’re sure?”
I nodded and licked my bottom lip. “Absolutely certain.”
He continued to look down at me and pain flickered across his face. I ran my hand through his hair, then my thumb over his forehead, smoothing away the wrinkles that had formed there. “What’s wrong?”
“Uh, well…” he swallowed hard. “I used condoms every time I…” Shame filled his features.
I blew out a breath at the reminder. “I did too,” I told him, meeting his eyes. “So we should both be clean. And we’ll both go to the doctor this week to make sure.”
