Inside Heat

by Roz Lee

  She would just tell them she wanted to go home, and that would be that. They wouldn’t hold her to staying any longer, especially after she told them she wasn’t going to be their plaything. She wasn’t into playing house with them, or anyone else.

  The same pantry where she’d found the coffee also yielded a box of cereal, but the refrigerator cleverly disguised as a cabinet held a case of beer and half a twelve pack of sodas – not diet, she noticed, and no milk. She popped another coffee disc in the machine and settled on a barstool with the remains of her first cup of coffee and the box of cereal. Ordinarily, she would have poured the cereal into a bowl, even if she wasn’t going to pour milk over it, but she doubted the guys would care if she ate it straight from the box.

  She was still there, munching handfuls of dry cereal and washing it down with coffee when Jeff and Jason came downstairs. Bare-chested, but wearing cartoon character boxers, they looked like overgrown boys with their sleepy, unshaven faces.

  “Good morning,” they said in unison, stopping to place a kiss on her cheek as they went past her. In a better mood since the infusion of legal stimulants – caffeine and sugar – Megan watched as the pair shuffled around the kitchen in silence, opening cabinets and staring at the empty shelves as if they expected an elf had stocked them overnight. Jeff snatched a coffee packet and fumbled with the coffee maker while Jason grabbed a soda from the refrigerator and joined her at the bar. He grabbed the box of cereal and helped himself to a handful. They both watched Jeff. After a few grumbled curses aimed at technological advances, he finally managed to coax a cup of java from the machine and joined them at the bar.

  Maybe it was the coffee, or the crunchy sugar-coated cereal, but something inside her softened. If this were seduction, or even an attempt to convince her to make the relationship permanent, then she’d eat the cereal, box and all. Obviously, they weren’t morning people. Their hair stood out at odd angles, and up close she could see creases on Jeff’s face from his pillow. Jason yawned, scratched the scar on his chest and farted. Megan smiled, even as she scooted her barstool further away.

  “Hey, we’ve got company,” Jeff scolded.

  “Sorry,” Jason grunted before he repeated the cereal, soda routine.

  “Don’t mind me,” Megan said, reaching for the cereal box. “Do you always live like this?”

  “Like what?” Jeff asked.

  “Like you don’t live here? How do you exist without any food?”

  “I told you. We eat out. Jase can’t cook for shit, and I’m not much better.”

  “Why don’t you hire someone to cook for you?”

  “Tried that,” Jason said. A big belch followed, then he continued. “She thought we should keep regular hours, and when we explained we didn’t have any control over the game times, or which ones were out of town, she quit. Said it was too much trouble.”

  “We only have Danni now. She keeps the laundry done, and the house clean.”

  “Look, guys,” she waited until she had their attention. “I don’t know what you want from me, but I’m not interested.” They needed a keeper, someone to look after them. As touching as this was, she wasn’t going to become their keeper any more than she was going to be their plaything. “I need to go home. Can you call a car for me?”

  Two sets of identical blue eyes stared at her and she fought the urge to pat her head to see if her hair looked as bad as theirs did. Slowly, sleep left their faces and she knew she had their full attention.

  “You have a game today, and I need to get home. I have stuff to do,” she lied.

  “We thought you were going to stay until tomorrow,” Jason said.

  “Why do you want to go?” Jeff asked.

  “Look, I don’t know what you expect from me. It’s clear you’ve given a lot of thought to sharing…a woman. You have the room set up, and everything, but I don’t think I’m the woman you want.”

  “Why do you think that?” Jeff asked. His coffee sat forgotten in front of him now.

  “I can’t do this.” She waved her hands around to indicate…something. “I’m not going to give up my career to be your plaything, or to be your keeper. I’m sorry if I gave you the impression I was interested in that kind of arrangement.”

  Silence rang through the kitchen like a death knell. Jeff and Jason didn’t move, didn’t take their eyes off her. This wasn’t going well. Not at all. The coffee maker beeped and she almost jumped out of her skin. Finally, Jeff spoke.

  “It was never our intention for you to be either. If we wanted those things, we can afford to buy them.” Megan flinched as the barb struck home. Wasn’t that what she really objected to, the thought that they were trying to buy her…services? Jeff motioned to a row of keys hanging on the wall next to a short hallway. “Pick any car you like. The keys are labeled. We’ll send someone to pick it up later.”

  Oh boy. She’d struck a nerve, and Jeff had struck back with enough hurt in his voice to make her wish she’d never come in the first place. His dismissal should have made wings grow on her feet, but instead, her heart sank like a lump of lead, anchoring her to the spot.

  “Wait,” Jason said. “Don’t go.”

  He punched Jeff in the arm. “Apologize, dickhead. Unless you’re trying to make her go, and I know you don’t want that anymore than I do.”

  Why wasn’t she halfway down the driveway now? Everything reasonable inside her said she should grab a set of keys and get the hell out, but another part of her wouldn’t let her leave. Not like this anyway. “Why don’t you tell me what, exactly, you want from me?”

  “I sure as hell don’t want you to be our keeper.” Jeff said the last word with enough scorn to make it clear he’d objected to her use of the word. “We do fine by ourselves. We don’t pay for sex, and we don’t bring women here. If we wanted a keeper, we’d advertise for one. What we want is you. I said it before. We want to get to know you, and not just in bed. We like you, and we respect your job. We’d never ask you to give it up to cook and spread your legs for us. Frankly, I’m insulted you think that’s what we asked you out here for.”

  “Megan, if you choose to be with us, we’ll hire a cook – or at least buy some groceries. Honestly, we aren’t home enough to even notice we don’t have any. When it’s just us, it’s easier to eat out. Stay today. You’re welcome to use one of our cars while we’re gone. Or better yet, come to the ballpark. We’ll talk after the game. Promise.” He held his hand up in a Scout pledge, but he didn’t look like any scout she’d ever seen. Scouts didn’t look dangerous, and Jason Holder was dangerous. All her woman parts new it.

  “You said we’d talk last night, and I don’t remember a lot of that going on.”

  “Don’t take your clothes off tonight,” Jeff said.

  “Okay, I guess I’m as much to blame for the lack of conversation as anyone, but there’s one thing I’m curious about.”

  “And what would that be?” Jeff asked.

  “Last night…why didn’t you…I mean…why didn’t we…”

  “Fuck? Are you wondering why we didn’t fuck you?”

  A heated flush crept up from her neck to her hairline. Jeff was being deliberately crude. “Yes, that’s what I’m asking.”

  “We didn’t have any condoms,” Jason said. “We’re going to be busy this afternoon, but if you go out, stop and pick some up, will you?”

  “You really weren’t expecting to have sex last night, were you?”

  “No. We thought you were coming here to talk about a possible relationship with us, one that would include sex, when you were ready for it. Not before.”

  His comments took the starch out of her indignation, and her shoulders sagged. She’d been wrong. She’d jumped to conclusions based on…nothing. She had absolutely nothing on which to conjure her wild imaginings but her own insecurities. “I’m sorry. I’ve never been in a situation like this. I misunderstood.”

  Jeff’s voice lost the edge it had before. “We should apologize. We gave you the
wrong impression last night. We shouldn’t have taken advantage of you the way we did. We teased you, never expecting you to actually take your clothes off.” He shrugged his shoulders. “We’re only human. You have a great body, and we were dying to touch you, to taste you.” He turned to his brother. “Hey, Jase. We’ve got to get going or we’ll be late.”

  Megan stood when they did. “What time will you be home?”

  “We should be back by six, unless the game goes extra innings. Earlier if there aren’t a lot of base runners,” Jason said.

  “How about I fix dinner for you then?”

  “Okay. But only if you want to. We could pick up something on our way home, if you would rather,” Jeff offered.

  “No. I’d like to cook for you. I’ll have to see what you have, and go pick some things up, but it’s the least I can do for jumping to conclusions the way I did.”

  As they were leaving, dressed in suits and clean-shaven, Jeff stopped and pulled out his wallet. “Just so you know, we want to be with you, but we won’t act on that without protection, and we aren’t going to buy any.” He handed her two one hundred dollar bills. “This should cover dinner, and condoms, if you think you might be ready to take that step. If not, we’ll wait until you are.”

  Megan sat for a long time sipping coffee and listening to the silence of the big, empty house. Everything they’d said and done played over in her mind, and the more she remembered the more clear her situation became. She wanted to believe them, but really? What kind of testosterone fueled, single athletes didn’t have condoms stashed? It was unheard of. But, if it were true, she bargained with herself, then she did owe them the home-cooked meal she’d promised.

  A search of their bedrooms and bathrooms revealed a few things she hadn’t previously known. Jeff was a neat freak, and Jason was only a slob around Jeff. She’d been certain it had been Jeff who’d collected her clothes from the previous evening, folded them neatly and stacked them on the dresser in her bedroom. But now she wasn’t so certain. Jason’s closet and personal space was every bit as neat as Jeff’s. She had to conclude Jason’s slovenly ways outside his bedroom were nothing more than a way to annoy his brother, or perhaps it was his personal rebellion against having a clone.

  After snooping into their nightstands, medicine cabinets and every other place she could think of to stash condoms, she concluded they had told the truth. They really didn’t have any in the house.

  She unloaded the groceries, enough for dinner and breakfast, hid the box of condoms in her overnight bag, and took it back to her room, along with full size bottles of her favorite bath products. Somewhere between the produce aisle and the pharmacy section, she’d made up her mind to stay the night. She’d purchased the condoms, but still hadn’t decided if she wanted to use them. She wasn’t stupid. It was better to have them and not need them, than the other way around. She knew in her heart that if they kissed her the way they had last night, then asked to join her in bed, she wouldn’t be able to say no.

  She turned the game on in the den and curled into the corner of the big, overstuffed sofa to watch. It was an easy game to follow, but she knew there was more to it. The announcers talked about pitch strategies, about right-handed batters versus left-handed pitchers and the depth of both teams’ bullpens. Megan listened carefully, trying to learn as much as she could about the game. If she were going to spend time with Jeff and Jason, she needed to understand what they did for a living. The Mustangs were ahead by one run in the eighth when Megan headed to the kitchen to begin dinner preparations.

  Later, with the chicken ready to put on the indoor grill and the peach cobbler in the oven, she returned to the game. Reporters stalked the opposing team as they celebrated their victory. Her heart sank as she watched the replay of the final inning. Jeff had given up a run, then the next batter had hit a homerun. He struck out the next batter for the third out and stalked off the field.

  Chapter Seven

  Jeff slammed the door shut behind him and stormed through the kitchen as if the hounds of hell were on his heels. Megan followed his progress with her eyes, unsure if she should follow or not. Then Jason came in, shutting the door with a soft click. Weariness lined his face and added weight to his shoulders. He settled onto a barstool and sighed.

  “What’s wrong with him?”

  “Blown save,” Jason said. “Give him a few minutes. He forgets he’s not the only one on the team sometimes.”

  “Where’s he going?”

  “To the pool. He’ll swim a few laps, then he’ll remember that I struck out in the fifth with the bases loaded, and he’ll be mad at me for a while. By morning, he’ll put it behind him and focus on the next game.”

  “Is he always like this when the Mustangs lose?”

  “No. Only when he gives up the winning runs. Fortunately, that doesn’t happen very often.” Jason looked around, sniffing the air. “What’s that smell? It smells like food.”

  Megan laughed at his enthusiasm. “We’re having grilled chicken and veggies. We have peach cobbler for dessert.” She pulled a plate of cut-up vegetables from the refrigerator and set it on the counter in front of Jason. “This is ranch dip. I thought you might want something to snack on until the chicken is done.”

  Jason scooped up a handful of baby carrots and ate them like potato chips. “These are good. When’s the chicken going to be ready?”

  “Soon. Should we wait for Jeff?”

  “No need to wait,” Jeff said from the door. Megan gaped. He was stark naked and dripping wet, standing in the doorway he’d stormed through a few minutes earlier. He caught her look and shrugged. “We’re out of towels in the pool room. We must have used them all last night.”

  Megan rolled her eyes. “The chicken isn’t done yet. Go get some clothes on.”

  Ignoring her, Jeff grabbed a fistful of celery sticks and dragged them through the bowl of dip. He left, cradling the dripping vegetables in one hand while he stuffed one stick in his mouth. “I’ll be right back.”

  Jason continued to pop carrots in his mouth, unconcerned about his brother’s nudity, or his juvenile behavior. Megan turned back to the chicken cooking on the built-in grill. She flipped the pieces over blindly. All she could see was Jeff’s limp package as he stood in the doorway and his tight ass as he disappeared in the direction of the stairs. They were supposed to talk tonight, but she wasn’t going to do much talking with her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth.

  She reached for the glass of wine she’d poured earlier and left sitting on the counter. Perhaps alcohol wasn’t the best idea right now, given the state of her resolve, but the smooth spirits did a passable job of ungluing her tongue. After a few sips, she set the glass aside before she did something stupid like run upstairs and dig the box of condoms out of her bag. She was determined to give herself time to know these men before she let their relationship go any further.

  Not that it was going anywhere tonight. Jeff returned, dressed in jeans and a Mustangs T-shirt. Jason’s suit coat hung over the back of the barstool. Megan grabbed his tie off the counter and folded it before setting it out of harm’s way. She transferred the meal to serving dishes and handed them each a plate. They helped themselves at the bar, then at Megan’s insistence took seats at the table in the breakfast nook. She poured them each a glass of wine and topped her own off before joining them at the table.

  “This is good. Really good,” Jeff said as he lifted another forkful of mashed potatoes. “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome.” She ate silently, watching the brothers for some clue as to their mood. Even though Jeff had been polite since returning fully clothed, Megan couldn’t help but think they were sitting on a powder keg that could explode at any minute. She soon found she wasn’t wrong.

  “Why couldn’t you have just hit the fucking ball?” Jason cut his eyes to Megan at Jeff’s outburst. His wink and half-smile reminded her this was what he’d told her would happen.

  “I didn’t hit it because it broke
before it got to the plate. If you could throw a breaking ball, you’d know what I’m talking about, and maybe you wouldn’t have given up a fucking homerun to the number nine batter on a roster full of number nine batters.”

  Megan listened as the brothers exchanged insults over the dinner she’d worked so hard to prepare. As they threw verbal arrows at each other, she was glad they hadn’t gone out to eat after all. When they finally pushed their plates away, they seemed to have exhausted their insulting vocabulary. She dared to ask what was on her mind.

  “What would you have done if you’d had to eat out tonight? Would you have had this same…conversation…in a restaurant?”

  “No. We probably would have called the pizza dude,” Jason said. “It’s the way we blow off steam. Jeff does this every time he blows a save. He blames himself first, then he blames me, then he comes to the truth – it was the whole team’s fault. Any number of plays in the course of nine innings could have changed the outcome of the game. It’s unreasonable to blame it on the last few pitches.”

  “That still doesn’t change the fact that I gave up hits to the two worst batters in the major leagues,” Jeff said. “I couldn’t focus.”

  “Focus is a big thing?” Megan asked.

  “It’s everything,” he answered. “Truth?”

  Megan nodded, afraid to hear what he was going to say.

  “I was afraid you would change your mind, and you wouldn’t be here when we got back. All I could think about was you. Getting home to you, holding you, making love to you.”

  Her woman parts, already loosened up by the wine, softened more at his admission. Then, as his words sunk in, she was horrified. “Oh no! You aren’t blaming me for this. I didn’t have anything to do with the game.”