Beyond the Bases

by Kaylee Ryan

  “I know you do. We both do. You’re working yourself to the bone trying to do it all on your own.”

  “And what choice do I have in that?” I snip. I don’t mean to be short with her, but she knows how crazy things are for me right now.

  “Look, Larissa, I’m sorry. You’re the strongest, most dedicated person I know. I just want to see you happy.”

  “And you think hooking up with some random guy in a bar who claims to be a major league baseball player will make me happy?”

  “What do you mean, ‘claims to be’? They are,” she informs me.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me. Please don’t tell me you fell for that line?”

  “Babe, I hate to break it to you, but you’re wrong on this one.”

  “Hey, Larissa, I just seated a party of four in your section,” Tara, the hostess, informs me.

  It’s been a slow night so far, so I’m thankful for something to do to get away from Chloe’s inquisition. “Thanks, Tara. As for you”—I point at my best friend—“don’t fall for every line they tell you.”

  She laughs. “Go get your drink orders, and by the time you come back, I’ll have proof.” She holds up her phone.

  “Don’t you have tables to serve or something?”

  “Nope. I’m gonna sit right here and get my proof ready.”

  Shaking my head, I head toward my table of four. I block out my conversation with Chloe and place a smile on my face. “Welcome to The Vineyard. I’m Larissa. I’ll be your server,” I say while flipping my order pad to a clean page to take their drink orders. When I look up, my smile falters just a little before I catch it and correct myself.

  “Hey, Ris.” Easton smiles up at me. “Fancy meeting you here.” His grin is infectious.

  “Good to see you again,” I say, then glance at the other three guys. They’re all built and hot as hell. “Drew.” I smile at him. “Tonight we have spare ribs.” I go on to tell them the special of the day ignoring my rapidly beating heart. “Can I start you off with drinks?” I start from right to left, ending with Easton. “Take your time looking over the menu. I’ll be right back with your drinks.” Slowly, I turn and walk away. Once I’m out of their sight, I rush to the back room where Chloe and I were taking our break. Leaning my back against the wall, I close my eyes and will my heart to slow. What are the chances of him showing up here?

  “Hey, take a….” She trails off when she sees my face. “What’s up?”

  “Oh, you know, nothing except Easton, Drew, and two other guys who are disturbingly just as gorgeous are my table of four.”

  “Damn. You have all the luck. I’ll have to swing past and say hello to Drew. Maybe he’ll want to get together tonight. Anyway, look at this.” She thrusts her phone in my face.

  It takes a minute for my eyes to focus, but when they do, my mouth drops open. There, on the tiny screen, is a picture of Drew and Easton in matching Tennessee Blaze uniforms. My eyes scan the article quickly. It’s from last year when they won the World Series. Holy shit!

  “And I believe this is where I say I told you so.” She laughs.

  “Okay, so he was honest about that, but come on, Chloe. Think about this for a minute. Guys like them can have anyone they want. Why some random stranger at a bar? Oh, that’s right, they want to get their dick wet. Case in point, you took Drew home with you.”

  “You’re damn right I did, and it was ah-maz-ing. You need to have a little fun in your life, Larissa. Knock off the cobwebs.” She grins, placing her phone back in her pocket.

  “Hey, Chloe, table of two,” Tara announces on her way to the kitchen.

  “I might just have to take the long way to my section,” she says, sauntering away.

  I watch her go, still in disbelief that Easton plays for the Blaze. Shaking myself out of my thoughts, I gather their drinks, steel my features, and head back to their table. I can feel his eyes on me as I pass out drinks. “Are you ready to order?” I again start on the left, ignoring his penetrating gaze. I focus on taking their orders, then turn to Easton. “For you?” I ask politely.

  “What do you recommend?”

  “The spare ribs are an excellent choice. We also have a great sirloin. You can cut it with a fork.” I tell him my usual spiel.

  “I’ll take the sirloin,” he says.

  “Ten ounce or twelve?”

  “Twelve.”

  “How would you like that cooked?”

  “Well done. Baked potato, butter and sour cream, broccoli, and salad with ranch.”

  I work on writing down his order, knowing he’s still watching me. When I look up, he’s smiling with the menus in hand.

  “Here you go.” He hands them to me.

  “I’ll be right out with your salads.” I rush away to put their order in and get a break from his stare. At the computer, I enter their order then place the menus back on the bin, but something catches my eye. Pulling open the top menu, I find a piece of paper with a number on it and a little baseball flying through flames. The Blaze. I can’t help but laugh at his hint. Of course, he couldn’t write his name. His number falling into the wrong hands would be a nightmare for him I’m sure. It’s not the official Blaze logo, but I get the point.

  “Table of one,” Tara says, smiling.

  Quickly, I shove the paper in my pocket and head to my table of one. I smile when I see Mr. Brown. He’s a regular here, a widower who lost his wife of forty-eight years. He comes here once a week to have dinner. He told me how this was her favorite place in town to eat, and he comes here for her. One day, when life slows down and I feel like I get a minute to breathe, I want to find a love like that.

  I take Mr. Brown’s order and rush to get his drink. I scan Easton’s table and see how they’re doing on drinks without stopping. Minimal communication is key here. I gather a refill for each of them, as well as Mr. Brown’s sweet tea and water with lemon, and place them on my tray.

  “How about some refills?” I ask. I don’t make eye contact with any of them while I set their drinks down.

  “Thanks, Ris.” Easton smiles.

  All I can do is nod and try to act as if his smile doesn’t make my belly quiver. As I head to my next table, I think about how much I love that he shortens my name, but I’ll never tell him that. I’ve always just been Larissa to my family and friends. “Here you go, Mr. Brown. Your salad should be out soon.”

  “Thanks, dear.” He smiles kindly.

  As I walk back through the dining area, I feel a hand grab mine, stopping me in my tracks. Looking down, I see Easton holding onto my hand. “What time do you get off tonight?” His brown eyes are pleading for me to tell him.

  His buddies make some lewd jokes at his question, and honestly, it’s hard for me not to smile as well. He kind of walked into that one. He whips his head around and gives them what I imagine is a “shut the hell up” look before turning back to face me. “Maybe we can go for coffee or something after?”

  “Can’t. Thank you though.” I pull my hand from his and walk away, rushing back to the lounge, as we like to call it. It’s really just a place for the staff to wait so we’re not seen lurking around. We have screens on the walls that show us our customers, making it so we don’t have to hover: the perks of an upscale restaurant. Leaning my back against the wall, I take a deep breath and slowly exhale.

  “What’s wrong?” Chloe asks.

  “You need to take over my table,” I tell her. He’s too sexy, too charming, and I can’t afford that kind of distraction.

  “Can’t. I have a party of eight. You know how confusing that gets, switching in the middle. Why, what happened?”

  “Easton happened. He’s determined to keep asking me out. He slipped me his number then stopped me as I was walking by, asking me if I wanted to go out for coffee when I get off tonight.” Hell yes, I want to go. There’s not a female on the planet who wouldn’t want to go. I, however, can’t get caught up in him. Not now. I have too much going on in my life to fall for some famous a
thlete just to have my heart broken in the end. I don’t have time for heartbreak, or games for that matter. My life is way too complicated for that.

  “And you said yes, right?” she asks, hopeful, but I can see it in her eyes that she already knows my answer.

  “You know I can’t.”

  “I know you can, but you refuse to. You have to live life, Larissa. My fear is one day you’re going to wake up and wonder what might have been.”

  “Sure, what might have been heartache from letting a famous athlete fool me into thinking I could be enough for him,” I scoff.

  “Do you know him?” she challenges me.

  “You know I don’t.”

  “Then you don’t know what his intentions are. You don’t know what kind of guy he is. You know what you’ve heard about athletes like him, but I know you’re smart enough to understand that the tabloids print complete shit. Listen, I need to get to my table, but you need to think about this. Give him a chance and feel out the situation before you jump to the conclusion that he’s some player on and off the field.” I watch as she turns and walks away.

  Sucking in a deep breath, I compose myself. I have to serve them until they’re gone, so I’m just going to have to deal. He’ll be gone once they’re finished, and then everything will be right in my world. Although, right now it feels like my world is tilted on its axis and one wrong move could send me tumbling into an abyss.

  “She shot you down, Monroe,” Carr says, before biting down on his fist to keep from laughing.

  “Yeah, you assholes didn’t help matters much,” I grumble. I should have known better than to bring them here.

  “She the one you met that night?” Fisher asks.

  I nod. They know I met a girl and was shot down, no thanks to Drew. He, of course, has been bragging all week that he took her friend Chloe home with him and that I struck out. I’ve had to listen to his replay all damn week when all I wanted to do was come here to see if she was working. Just wanting a chance to see her again. A chance to change her mind.

  “Here you go,” Larissa says, appearing beside us. So lost in my thoughts of her, I didn’t realize she was here. She serves each of us and steps back from the table. “Can I get you anything else?”

  “Yeah,” Fisher speaks up. “Can you please put our boy here out of his misery and go out with him? Or at least give him your number?”

  A soft smile pulls at her lips. She opens her mouth to answer him, and her eyes find mine. She looks at me like she’s trying to put together a puzzle but doesn’t quite have all the pieces. “Trust me, Easton.” Her voice is soft, almost fragile, as if one wrong word could break her. “I have more going on in my life than you want to take on. You should count this one as a loss and focus on someone else.” That last part is whispered so low I can barely hear her.

  “What if I don’t want anyone else?” I’m fully aware we’re in a crowded restaurant and people are watching. I’m aware that nine chances out of ten this will more than likely end up in the tabloids tomorrow. I also know I don’t give a fuck about any of that. All I care about is letting her know I’m serious when I say I want to take her out and get to know her. I’m drawn to her. The need to know more about her is just that—a need. The want is there too.

  She shakes her head as if she can’t believe my question. “Maybe not,” she finally says. “But you also don’t want me.” She stands to her full height and looks over at my three teammates. “I’ll be back with some refills,” she informs them before turning on her heel and walking away.

  “She’s a tough nut to crack,” Carr says.

  “Her friend, not so much,” Drew adds.

  “Hey, guys,” said friend greets us. Chloe smiles over at Drew before making eye contact with each of us.

  “Hey, gorgeous,” Drew greets her, reaching out and grabbing her hand.

  “What kind of trouble are the four of you getting into tonight?” she asks.

  “No trouble,” I assure her. “Just having dinner.”

  She laughs. “Right. I’ve heard that one before. You giving my girl a hard time?” she asks me.

  “More like she’s giving him one,” Fisher speaks up. “Help a guy out, would you? He’s been moping around all week since she shut him down, and after tonight’s loss, I’m afraid he’s going to get a complex.”

  Chloe turns her attention back to me. “Don’t give up on her.” She looks over her shoulder, then back to me. “She’s got a lot going on, and she’s jaded from life itself. If you’re serious and want to get to know her, don’t give up on her.”

  Her attention is pulled away when Drew asks, “What time do you get off tonight?”

  “I don’t know, you tell me,” she flirts back.

  He throws his head back in laughter. “Text me when you’re done. I’ll swing by and pick you up.”

  “I’m out of here at eleven tonight.”

  “What about Larissa?” I ask.

  “She’s off at eleven as well,” she says with a knowing smile. She’s walking away before I can thank her for the intel.

  “So what are you going to do about it?” Drew asks.

  “I’m gonna be here waiting on her.” Honestly, I’m not sure what else I can do, other than being persistent, and I’m not sure that will work with her. She doesn’t seem to be impressed that I’m a professional athlete or that my last name is Monroe, hell I’m not even sure she knows who I am. What she doesn’t realize is that ramps up her hotness factor and makes me want her even more.

  Glancing down at my watch, I see it’s nine thirty. I have an hour and a half until I make my next move. The guys and I eat dinner, talking about the season so far, laughing, and cutting up, enjoying our two-day break. Larissa periodically stops and checks on us, getting us refills without asking.

  “Who left room for dessert?” she asks, gathering our empty plates.

  “I don’t see you on the menu,” Carr tells her. Without thinking, my arm flies out and I punch him in the arm. “What the fuck?” he asks, rubbing his arm. I shoot him a murderous look, and he clamps his mouth shut.

  “I’ll take the strawberry cheesecake,” Drew tells her.

  “Make that two,” Fisher chimes in.

  “For you?” she asks Carr.

  “Peanut butter silk pie.” He winks at her, and I’m tempted to hit his ass again. Apparently, it wasn’t hard enough the first time.

  “Easton?” The sound of my name on her lips is something I want to hear more of.

  “Oreo cheesecake, please,” I say, handing her the dessert menu.

  “Great. I’ll be back in a few.” She turns and leaves.

  I turn my attention to Carr. “What the fuck was that?”

  “What? I was just messing with both of you.”

  “Not with her,” I tell him. He holds his hands up, telling me he understands and he’s going to back off. I’m into this girl. I want to explore whatever this is, and I don’t need his dumb ass making it harder for me than it already is.

  A few minutes later, she’s back and setting our desserts in front of us. “Enjoy.” She’s gone as quickly as she arrived, not even giving me time to say thanks.

  The guys and I shoot the shit for a little while longer until Larissa appears with our checks. “I got it,” I tell her, handing over my credit card. She takes it and disappears around the corner.

  “Thanks for dinner, man.” Drew nods in my direction.

  “I needed to make sure she was tipped well,” I tell him.

  “What, you think we’re cheap?” Fisher asks, looking amused.

  “I know you are, unless you’re certain to get something out of it,” I fire back.

  “She might pick me,” he says, already laughing at his own joke.

  “Dude, did you see him hit me? That shit hurts.” Carr rubs his arm again to get his point across.

  “Come on, Monroe. We’re fucking with you. You’re in knots over this girl, which is new. We have to give you shit,” Fisher chimes in.

/>   “Just don’t give it to her,” I warn.

  “Here you go. Thanks for coming in. Have a good night.” She drops off my receipt and credit card then walks away.

  I sign the bottom of the receipt, leaving her a hefty tip. “You waiting here?” I ask Drew as we walk outside.

  “Yeah, might as well. You?”

  “Yeah, I don’t want to chance missing her.” Plus, if I’m with Drew, I’m hoping I look less stalkerish.

  “The black Impala is Chloe’s.” He points to the back part of the lot that’s darker than I’d like knowing the girls walk out alone at night.

  “I guess we should park over there.” I don’t wait for his reply. Instead, I climb into my truck and drive around the lot. I park beside the Impala, and Drew parks beside me. I know I should have let him be right next to her, but he has an advantage over me. One, he knows what she drives, and two, she’s more than willing to go out with him. I’m not that lucky.

  Climbing out of the truck, I round the back and drop the tailgate. Drew joins me as we wait for the girls to get off work, while Fisher and Carr head to Shorty’s. I’m sure I’ll get shit for it later. Drew, on the other hand, will not. He’s waiting for his hook-up. Me, I’m just waiting for a girl who apparently wants nothing to do with me. We’re in the middle of debating our rookie outfielders this season when the back door of the restaurant opens and slams shut, the sound echoing through the night sky.

  “Go time,” Drew says, rubbing his hands together.

  I don’t take my eyes off her as she walks toward us. Her step falters when she notices me. I hop off the tailgate and meet her halfway. “Hey,” I say, stopping in front of her. Her hair is falling out of her ponytail and into her eyes. Reaching out, I tuck it behind her ear. “Long night?” I ask like an idiot. Nothing I say works with this girl.