by Stella Rhys
We were delving into subject matter I generally avoided or flat-out ignored when brought up, but I went for it today. At least it was making my dick go down.
ME: To be fair the war was with just my team. I only wanted to see Los Angeles burn.
IAIN: Yeah well it doesn’t look great for the league when you’re trying to file a lawsuit against your own team. AFTER missing a five weeks of your season with them because of the whole Lillard incident.
Fuck. I tossed my phone aside at the mention of Tim Lillard. There was my limit.
I couldn’t think about Tim or any of the Lillards right now. It was a sore subject on a regular basis but my fight against L.A was still fresh in my mind, and it had started because of Cody Bryce taunting me about skipping Pattie’s funeral.
Breathe, I told myself. Staring at the ceiling, I inhaled, exhaled and tried my best to remember all the shit Diaz said when he tried teaching me meditation.
It didn’t work but on the bright side, I’d officially gone soft.
So there was that.
There was also the fact that I was three days from my next start. That meant that I had a bullpen session today with my pitching coach Lou Dickerson, and anytime I was on the mound, I wasn’t thinking about anything but my delivery.
So I focused on that.
I got to the stadium and managed to clear my mind during stretches, which was followed by some good throwing in the bullpen, then shagging flies during BP. By the time the game started, I felt like myself again. I had some actual peace of mind, and it was a huge fucking relief.
Of course, that relief didn’t last long because somewhere between the fifth and sixth innings, the sidewalk dick pics from yesterday’s date hit the Internet.
I knew something was up when a couple of drunk girls sitting over the dugout got booted for yelling at me to fuck them with that big dick. Just minutes after that, Ty pointed at the curvy blonde along the first base line that all the guys had been staring at all game. Apparently she had written a new message on the back of her sign. Originally, it had been “MARRY ME MADDOX.” Now it was “WOW DREW!!! SHOW ME THAT BIG BAT!”
Since phones were banned in the dugout, the guys took turns disappearing into the clubhouse to look at the pictures and headlines about my giant fucking cock, because there was nothing homoerotic about that.
They thought they were being slick, but even if Ty didn’t tell me, I’d have noticed. And since I did, I chose not to tune everyone out like I usually did during the game. As much as I knew I’d regret it, I listened to every fucking word the guys muttered under the breaths about Evie. I thought I’d find their stupid comments at least vaguely amusing. That was generally what I felt when they ranked and rated all my conquests like a bunch of middle school girls.
But as they talked about Evie, all I felt was my blood boiling in my veins.
“I say the tits are real. And she’s gotta have a magic pussy to have Maddox carrying shopping bags.”
“Magic mouth too. You saw those lips?”
“Yeah. Imagine what they look like after sucking dick for a good ten, fifteen – ”
“Watch it,” I barked, on my feet before I knew it. Diaz was in front of me in no time, wordlessly walking me back to my seat as I glared over his shoulder at Watt and Brewer. Watt held his hands up in surrender.
“Fuck. D, I didn’t mean any disrespect. I’m sorry.”
“Same. I didn’t know you could hear.”
“I can hear everything and if I hear my girl’s name out of your dirty fucking mouth again I’m going to put you both on the DL.”
Every head in the dugout was turned at this point, and annoyingly, I saw Diaz signal to our manager that everything was fine. Like he was my keeper or something.
It was a briefly heated moment, but dugout or clubhouse, they happened. Tempers flared but eventually, things got squashed and it was no different this time around. Watt and Brewer came by to apologize separately, normalcy was restored and I told myself I had just been putting on a damned good show just now.
And that was it.
Because once my blood simmered, the idea of getting that fired up over some girl I barely knew was disturbing, and I didn’t want to believe that it happened. I needed to know that I could keep the focus I had every day at the stadium, especially during a game. Even when I wasn’t starting, I was usually watching every at-bat and every delivery on every damned pitch. But today, I’d barely paid attention to shit and I was ready to give up, because the second I got my mind off Evie again, Diaz came around.
“You serious? You’re seeing someone?” he asked. He could barely hide the fact that he was fucking glowing. I looked at him then back at the field. Technically not an answer but he still gave me a pat on the back. “Proud of you, brother. Can’t let that L.A shit hang over you forever.”
Then he left before I could respond, which I was grateful for because while I wasn’t mad at Diaz, I really didn’t need him mentioning L.A. I was already completely on edge and wound up tight over this Evie situation. I just needed a fucking break from my own brain.
It was for that reason that I was actually relieved when, an inning later, Ty came loping over with a big, dumb grin on his face. At least I knew he never had anything important to talk about.
“Yo.” He plopped his ass down next to me. “I take it since you’re finally wifed up, I can call dibs on your tittalicious blonde down the third base line,” he said, nodding at the girl with the “show me your big bat” sign.
“Go nuts,” I said.
“Nice. So you coming out tonight? Or is your crazy ass banned from nightlife now that you got a nice girl at home?”
I leaned my elbows on my knees as I stared out at the game. Ty was joking but I technically was banned from nightlife. Iain made me swear it off, save for “a few special occasions,” and while he probably didn’t count day two of the contract as a special occasion, I did because I suddenly felt the urgent need to blow off steam. I answered Ty the second he gave up on getting a response from me and started leaving.
“Yeah, I’m coming out,” I said.
He spun right around.
“Yeah?” He pumped his fist. “Hell yes, dude. It’s gonna be fuckin’ tight. I can feel it in my bones, brother!”
He said that literally every time we went out, or any time we were about to eat at a new restaurant for that matter, but I prayed he was particularly right tonight. I sincerely hoped that wherever we went tonight and whatever we got into, it would be a deserving last hurrah for me.
Because if I was about to risk getting pictures taken of me doing all the shit the Empires didn’t want me to do, then it had better be worth it.
As it turned out, it wasn’t worth it.
I had stood barely a minute outside the club with Ty before finding myself mobbed by the girl with the “big bat” sign and all her screechy friends. From what I could tell, they were wasted and there were already cameras flashing as they basically rubbed up on me, posing on my body like I was a fucking stripper pole.
Goddammit. It was too early for this shit, and it was giving me nothing but anxiety so it wasn’t long before I was peeling women off my body and ducking back into my car. Once I had the door shut, I texted Evie to come meet me. It took about five minutes but she eventually replied that she’d need “a minute” to get ready and find a dress.
I thought nothing of it because I thought a minute meant a minute. But apparently, it meant damned near an hour-and-a-half.
ME: Jesus Evie
ME: I don’t understand. Are you making the damned dress?
EVIE: Almost there I said!
ME: You said that twice already
EVIE: And I meant it twice!!
Any texts after that went ignored and I wound up sitting in the back of the car for another twenty minutes, killing time by checking scores around the league. But just as my patience ran up again and I whipped out my phone, she texted me first.
EVIE: I’m here
“Finally,” I groaned, climbing out of the car. I stretched my shoulders and massaged the back of my neck as I stepped onto the sidewalk, and just as a large group passed in front of me, I spotted Evie.
She was turned around, talking to the bouncer and as my eyes took her in, I felt my jaw drop.
Fuck. Me.
My hand slid slowly off the back of my neck as I soaked in the sight of her wearing a black dress, a lace choker and a ponytail so high and bouncy I wanted to wrap it around my hand while I spanked her all night. She deserved it for the way she stood all cute – hip cocked and skirt stretched all tight skirt over that gorgeous ass. Christ. That ass. There was no way in hell she was wearing panties under there. I’d bet anyone my entire fucking apartment that she wasn’t.
Suddenly, I forgot about the hour-and-a-half wait it took to get to this point because the view in front of me now was something I could stare at all night. I was pretty sure it didn’t get better than this.
But then she turned around.
11
EVIE
Breathe, Evie. Lock those knees, girl.
I needed the reminder as I stared at Drew Maddox staring at me. He looked scary good in a crisp white button down with his hair still kind of wet. Did wet hair make me picture him in the shower? Sure did. Did I need that image in my head when I was already breathless from just the way he looked at me?
Nope.
But I’d asked for this.
Admittedly, I got dolled the fuck up for this impromptu hang, but who wouldn’t? In all likelihood, I was going to be photographed by strangers and paparazzi all night. I’d already seen the way it happened yesterday morning, and I could only assume the cameras came out faster at clubs and bars where it was darker, and people were drunker, more brazen.
Also, today’s tabloid pieces on yesterday’s date had quickly piqued an interest in me, which meant tonight, some gossip hounds might actually recognize my face. And that meant I was going to be watched and scrutinized way more than I’d been just yesterday.
So why not dress up like crazy?
I don’t know. Maybe to avoid moments where he looks at you like this and you wonder why not just fuck him for fun since the world already thinks you are?
Also a valid point.
Because while I’d been dealing with male attention for about fifteen years, nothing – and I mean nothing – in the world could prepare me for the way Drew was looking at me now.
He stood so still but that wolfish stare drank me in. His enormous body was completely unmoving as those green eyes traveled shamelessly up my legs then to my hips before getting caught on my breasts. I couldn’t help but feel a thrill for the fact that I’d fully captivated something so big and powerful. It made me feel objectively sexy, which was far different than feeling normal sexy – and for all the confidence I had, it was definitely something I’d never felt before in my life.
“Hi,” I said once I couldn’t take the heat of his stare any longer. Drew looked up at me.
“Hi.”
“So… are you going to take me inside or what?” I asked. I cocked my head when he just blinked, seeming to have forgotten that that was why I was here. When he finally shook his head and offered no further detail, I frowned. “What? Why not?”
“Because there’s no way in hell I’m letting the guys go near you right now.”
I bit my lip because I was sure there was a compliment in there. Somewhere.
“Well excuse me, but I didn’t get this dressed up for nothing,” I said.
“I know you didn’t,” Drew muttered, returning his eyes to my cleavage as I crossed my arms. I uncrossed them.
“And I definitely didn’t get dressed up solely for your viewing pleasure, Mr. Maddox.”
He groaned with irritation, finally sounding awake.
“Yes, thank you. I know that.”
“So?”
He kept his stare fixed on me for two hard seconds. Then he nodded behind him.
“Just get in the car.”
Whatever sexpot impression I’d made on Drew outside the club before was swiftly annihilated once we arrived at our next location. But I didn’t mind and I apologized for nothing.
We wound up going to The Roof on 5th, which was, unsurprisingly, a rooftop bar on Fifth Ave. I’d heard of it before and I was already excited to go, but when we actually rode the elevator all the way to the top, and the doors opened, I almost burst into tears.
“Omigod,” I gasped because it was so unreal. Presented before me was the closest, most breathtaking view of the very top of the Empire State Building. It was like being an arm’s reach from the moon. It was right next to this roof, and it glowed so magnificently close that I swore I could walk across the balcony, hold out my hand and actually touch it.
“What’s going on? You alright?” Drew turned around.
“Yes. No. I don’t know. I’m having a moment.”
He stared for a second.
“Jesus,” he said when he realized he wasn’t going to get me to move.
But come on – this was surreal. I’d grown up looking at pictures of the New York skyline, obviously, and I still had a beloved, framed Polaroid I took of this building when I first came to see it in person.
I was fourteen years old. I’d just had the worst fight of my life with Kaylie, and Mom told me to sleep somewhere else for the night. When I arrived a sniveling mess at Mike’s house, he announced that he was going to turn my worst day ever into the best, and took me on my first trip to Manhattan.
Our first stop had been the Empire State.
“Alright, enough.” Drew got my attention when he took my hand in his. “If you’re my girlfriend you need to act like I’ve taken you on a date before, because right now it looks like I kept you locked up for the past six months and just let you out for the first time tonight.”
I laughed instead of retorting because I knew it was a hundred percent true.
“Geez. Sorry, okay? I just never thought I’d see the Empire State Building this up close and personal.”
“Tourists and middle school field trips do it every day, so dream bigger.”
“Eff you, dickhead.”
“Also, cursing me off loses its edge when you say ‘eff’ instead of fuck.”
“Fine. In that case fuck. You,” I enunciated. Drew eyed me.
“Yeah. I wish.”
The remark made my lashes flutter, but it was said in such passing that I really didn’t have time to react before a hand shot out on our away to the table, viciously smacking Drew’s side to get his attention. I startled for all of a second before I looked at who the arm belonged to and recognized that thick, dark hair and big, mischievous smile.
“Emmett!” I shrieked, bursting out of Drew’s grasp to throw my arms around Emmett’s neck. “Oh my God, dude, tell me Aly’s here with you,” I whispered desperately, though I could see he was sitting with a bunch of men in suits. Definitely clients. Who were all staring at me.
“She’s not, I’m sorry,” Emmett whispered back with a laugh. “How you holding up with the asshole though?”
“Um.” I blinked, unsure if Emmett knew about the false nature of Drew and my romance. “He’s… tolerable?”
“Alright.” Drew cut in with two hands on my hips. Pulling me back against his chest, he whispered in my ear. “For fuck’s sake, don’t bend over like that. Your tits are falling out and those assholes are staring down your dress.”
“Oh, and you’ve decided that you’re the controlling type who dictates what I wear and how I act?” I hissed.
“Trust me, I’m pretty fucking pleased with what you’re wearing, but there’s a difference between showing you off and letting guys eye-bang you right in front of me,” Drew muttered hotly. My eyes narrowed at him.
“Fair,” I bit out.
“Thank you,” he grumbled.
“Alright, you two,” Emmett chuckled, still turned around in his chair. He cocked an eyebrow at Drew. “So you been dodgin
g my calls or what, Maddox? If we’re fighting, you never gave me official word.”
“I don’t have time to fight with you, Emmett, I’m just a busier man than even you are.”
“Clearly. Ty just texted that you were at Godsend with him ten minutes ago then disappeared. Should I tell him that you’re here?”
“Only if you want me to throw you off this roof.”
“I don’t think you should risk straining the pitching arm. I noticed your velocity was down your last start.”
“Good to know you were watching so closely. Should we let Aly know about your creepy obsession with me?”
“Fuck off,” Emmett grinned. “I’ll meet up with you two after I wrap up with these guys.”
“Please don’t,” Drew said before sliding a hand onto my back and whisking me off. I stared up at him.
“Jesus, what’s up with dude friends? Why do you guys love talking to each other like you hate each other?”
“Maybe we do.”
“What? Are you mad at my best friend’s boyfriend?” I asked defensively. “Because on behalf of my best friend, I take offense to that.”
“I’m not mad at him. Aly’s one of your best friends. Emmett’s one of mine,” Drew said without a hint of emotion, giving the canned answer like I was some reporter he didn’t want to do an interview with.
I kept my eyes narrowed on him as we followed a hostess across the roof and up a small flight of steps to a VIP area. Ivy-covered partitions provided us a decent amount of privacy, but that didn’t stop people from passing by our section with their phones stealthily positioned to snap quick photos. I noticed two people do that before we even sat down next to each other.
“So you and Emmett are cool?” I asked once the hostess left – though obviously not without a last lip-biting peek at Drew. Couldn’t blame her. He looked sexy as sin tonight and as screwed up as it was, he was particularly hot when he was angry.
