Swing For The Fences

by Kimberly Readnour

  Ah, yes. My sorely neglected baby. “Not true.”

  “High school doesn’t count.”

  “But—”

  “Freshman year doesn’t count either,” he interrupts for the second time. “I’m going by the past ten years. You’re too much of a player to be messing with a mom.”

  “My, my, haven’t our roles reversed?” I ask dryly. The familiarity of the conversation isn’t lost on me. Zach and I didn’t quite agree when he first started dating Lacey. Nothing against her, but I witnessed many girls exit our apartment door and didn’t want Lacey to be included. She wasn’t a cleat chaser, and I didn’t want her hurt. Little did I know he actually liked her. Now, with my words thrown back at me, his pissy-ass mood toward me back then all makes sense.

  “Yeah, but your situation is different. Kids are involved, and that’s a whole other playing field.”

  I release a steady stream of air and rub my fingers over my jaw. He’s right on that level. My future consists of a kid-free zone. Not once have I envisioned children in my life.

  “That does complicate things.” The sound of defeat rings in my tone, and Zach pauses. A few moments pass before he speaks.

  “Look, all I’m saying is think long and hard about why you want her. I know she’s your kryptonite—that was apparent after your first date during freshman year—but I’m telling you the last year has been hard for her. Jocelyn deserves a man who’s willing to settle down and stay. I’m not saying it can’t be you, but if all you’re after is to extinguish some old flame, you need to step away.”

  “I hear you.” Loud and clear. I glance at the time and cringe. Nana is going to kill me for being late. “I gotta go.”

  “All right, man. Later.”

  Fuck! I toss the phone onto the mattress and run my hands through my hair. Why do I want her? Does anyone really know the answer to that question? My immediate thought goes to her delicious body, which is shallow even by my standards, but I know there’s more. There has always been more. It’s not like I can make a list of her attributes. Although her list-making skills would definitely make the top ten.

  Maybe Zach’s right, and I should leave Jocelyn alone. I’ve never dated a woman with kids. Hell, for the past ten years, I’ve never dated, period—quick hookups certainly don’t count—but a woman with kids? As in plural? That would be a huge undertaking. I can’t get involved. I shouldn’t. But here’s the thing. I didn’t listen to Zach back in college. So why start now?

  JAX

  Late September, Ten Years Prior

  The whoosh from the heavy door draws my attention away from the spawn of Satan currently disguised as calculus. Zach, my new roommate, crashes on our latest bargain find—the slightly worn black futon. We’re over six feet tall. Our bodies alone fill the tiny dorm, so we needed more living area. We wasted no time lifting our beds and sliding the futon against the wall. Instant space. Sort of.

  “Mixer next weekend. You game?” Zach asks.

  “Nah. I’m going to ask Jocelyn out again.” A slight smile crosses my face. We’ve been on a few dates, and I’ve had a blast, tackling the items from her list. But honestly, the most fun is just being with her. Even though going to a frat party is a task to check off, we can pick any weekend to make that happen. Whenever someone gets thirsty or horny, they throw a party. For our next date, I have something more meaningful to cross off.

  “What’s the deal, man? You looking to be tied down already?” Zach picks up a baseball and glove and starts tossing the ball in the air. I bite back a laugh. That guy is always messing with a ball. “Why settle for one? We have four years to explore.”

  “I don’t know about being tied down, but I do like her.” Shit, it’s only been a few dates. I’m not ready to answer relationship questions. “What’s wrong with dating, anyway?”

  “Nothing’s wrong with dating as long as it’s not with the same girl.” Zach shudders. “You really have to ask?”

  I get it. He’s determined to make the pros and thinks having a girlfriend will deter him, or whatever. Other than saying he had a twin sister, Zach hasn’t mentioned his family much, and they were a no-show during move-in day. I suspect he has more riding on this than me. Don’t get me wrong, making it to the majors is my ultimate goal, but unlike him, I’m not opposed to being with the same girl. Hell, I did back in high school, and it was nice. Convenient. It removed the guesswork about who I’d be with on the weekends. Not to mention the benefits were great. Girls, or more specifically a certain girl, are definitely not the distraction Zach seems to think.

  Big surprise. My high school girlfriend and I didn’t last, but unlike most couples, we ended on good terms. Our lives took different paths. It’s that simple. We knew better than to try a long-distance relationship. The hard truth? We don’t love each other. I respect the hell out of Lauren, but I don’t love her. She knows it. I know it. That fact doesn’t negate the fun we had during the two years we dated, though.

  I’m not looking to replace her. It’s not like I need to have a girlfriend, but ever since Jocelyn rammed into me during class, I’m intrigued. She’s more reserved than what I’m used to but in a good way. There’s a side of her that most people don’t see—at least, that’s my impression—and I get to be the one to bring it out in her. Plus, she’s nothing like Lauren. Lauren’s tendency to nag was as daunting as this homework. Jocelyn’s tight little body doesn’t hurt, but her genuine smile makes her the hottest girl in the room. Sue me for wanting to be with her again. But, seriously, why deny myself a chance to see if something develops between us?

  “Jocelyn’s cool. You’d like her, if you got to know her,” I finally say.

  “I’m not saying I don’t like her, but dang, man. We just got here. Don’t drag yourself down this early.”

  “Yeah, whatever.” I don’t argue. It’s no use. Zach can do whatever he wants, and I’ll go after what I want. And what I want is Jocelyn Kennedy.

  These past few dates have been the best times of my life. I’m certainly not going to screw up our chance at a relationship because of my roommate’s weird hang-up.

  There’s no stopping my smile as my mind drifts to those warm, medium-brown eyes staring at the rock wall with slight panic. There was a neurotic cuteness to her hesitation, but she’s a walking contradiction. I can tell a lot of thought went into her lists, but, when push came to shove, I had to talk her into doing the highest-ranked item. Do not be fooled. Jocelyn Kennedy is way more adventurous than she realizes. My smile morphs into a smirk from being the one to give her that adventure.

  “Uh, do you need me to stay clear next weekend?” Zach asks.

  I open my mouth to speak, but I don’t know how to answer. His question does get me thinking, though. “We should really look into getting apartments next year. Maybe include another team member or two.”

  “I’m game. This sorry-ass excuse for a room sucks. Until we get our own space, we’ll have to work out a schedule.”

  “Schedule?” I dare to ask.

  “Yeah, the fucking schedule.”

  Damn, Jocelyn’s right; my new roommate is a pig.

  Chapter Five

  JAX

  Current day

  I wipe my sweaty palms on my jeans and breathe in the stale hotel air. Jesus, what am I doing? I don’t stress over women. Ever. Besides, Jocelyn made it clear she didn’t want anything to do with me, but she’s not like most women.

  She’s Jocelyn.

  I grab the phone and glance at the time. So much for a quick phone call. I’m now twenty minutes behind and still have to face traffic. Nana’s going to kick my ass. She may be pushing ninety, but her mental lashings are every bit as feisty as an old bird. Swiping my keys off the table, I push off the bed and try to clear my head of a certain brunette. The task proves impossible as Zach’s words surge through my mind and confuse the hell out of me.

  My feet carry me across the golden-brown carpet and out into the hallway while I try to rationalize my motives. I
never hold back, but what exactly do I want?

  After talking to Jocelyn last weekend, there’s no doubt in my mind I want to see her again. But for long-term? I honestly can’t answer. All I know is I haven’t been myself since talking to her. She consumes my every thought, dredging up feelings that, if I’m honest with myself, have never gone away.

  Plenty of girls have entered my life since Jocelyn and I split, but none have been serious. I took an oath to the single-man club the day reality gut-punched me. Six weeks after our fight, I walked through the dining hall and witnessed Carl’s fucking hands draped around her as if she was his personal possession. Jesus, I was pissed, unjustifiably, of course. I mean, we were broken up, and it was my own fault. I didn’t fight hard enough for her. Hell, I didn’t even fight at all. But the cold hard truth remains the same today as it did back then—I never stopped caring for her.

  Had I not hurt her that December day, she would still be mine. Maybe. I don’t know. By the way things seem today, she obviously wanted kids. That’s the one thing I would never provide. Surely, we would’ve worked through that.

  “Kids are involved, and that’s a whole other playing field.”

  I punch the down button and mentally back myself into the area where I excel—the date-free zone. Zach’s right. I need to be damn sure what it is I want before I go after her.

  The elevator door slides open to a leggy blonde standing in the middle. She shifts to my left, giving me an appreciative side glance. I nod politely but face forward. I may be confused about Jocelyn, but I know good and well no other woman holds a candle to her. Until I figure out what I’m going to do, women are off-limits.

  The elevator jerks downward as the blonde asks if I’m in town for business. Fair enough question, but since I’m on the outskirts of the city, I doubt anyone would stay here to conduct business. This is hardly a five-star resort. I only stay here because the location serves well between the city and Nana’s nursing home.

  “Visiting family.” Family. A sharp pang twists my heart at the implied plural meaning, but I force my face to remain impassive. In truth, it hurts like hell knowing that Nana is all I have left.

  “Ah, niece or nephew’s birthday?”

  I bite back a sigh and answer, “Grandma, actually.”

  She grins just as the elevator slows to a stop. I motion for her to exit, and as soon as she’s clear, my feet can’t carry me away fast enough. I turn toward the lobby and cut across the faux marble tile. I’m halfway to my destination when a slight gasp freezes me in my tracks. I turn to the sound and can’t help the smile tugging at my lips. Well, well, well. Who do we have here?

  “Most jersey chasers stalk the players during the season, babe.” My gaze rakes along Jocelyn’s knee-length skirt and cashmere turtleneck sweater. “And they definitely show more skin.”

  My half-teasing tone causes her jaw to drop. An effect I seem to keep having on her.

  “I’m not stalking you. I—”

  “Yeah?” I glance around and take in the hotel’s aged decor. My heart rate spikes when I wonder if she’s alone. “What makes you visit this dump?”

  The anger in her eyes dissolves into embarrassment as she turns her head away. “I had an interview.”

  A sudden lightness strikes my senses. Thank fuck, she isn’t here with another guy, but I can hardly celebrate. Not when her expression makes me want to wrap myself around her and form a protective shield. “You don’t sound too thrilled.”

  The planes of her face harden as she flashes her gaze back to me. “I haven’t worked in over six years. My last job was at Penn State’s bookstore.”

  Ah, yes. I remember that. I ordered all my books from some sketchy website just to avoid seeing her.

  “Sorry?”

  She shakes her head. “I always wanted to work, so I guess this is a good thing. I just thought this job consisted of more organizational skills than what they’re actually offering.”

  We resume walking toward the entrance, and my gaze dips to her ass. Ten years later, I can’t deny she still looks good, even if she’s sporting Mother Teresa’s clothing line.

  “I’m sure you can find something you like better.” Can she? I really have no idea what the job market is like. But I somehow doubt she’ll find her dream job in this dated hotel.

  “I have another interview tomorrow I’m looking forward to.”

  “Yeah? Is it more along the lines of marketing?”

  A cool November breeze whips her hair back as the doorman opens the door for us. My heart pauses at the smile crossing her lips.

  “No,” she says with a laugh. “It’s more to do with baking.”

  “You’re good at that. Maybe you’d enjoy that line of work better.”

  “Maybe. There was a bakery back home I loved as a child. I always thought it’d be cool working there.”

  Horns blare in the background as we sidestep the people rushing by. She turns left, the opposite direction from my parking garage. She’s about to walk away, but I don’t want our conversation to end. Not yet.

  “There’s a coffee shop not too far. Would you want to get something to drink?” Sorry, Nana.

  Her smile wavers as indecision fills her eyes. The yes is on the tip of her tongue, but she pulls out her cell and checks the time. By the way her posture slackens, I know I lost her.

  “I can’t. I really need to pick up Melanie before the other two get out of school.”

  “Some other time.” I close the distance between us, and just like last weekend, her breathing accelerates.

  “Oh my God. You’re Jax Carrigan,” a shrill female voice interrupts.

  I direct my attention to two teenage girls who paused midstride to gawk. “You know who I am?”

  “Yeah,” the shorter one says in a tone that mimics a duh. “You’re only the hottest baseballer.”

  “Jenny,” the other girl says, slapping her friend’s arm.

  “The hottest, huh?” I glance at Jocelyn with a raised eyebrow. Her shoulders start to shake.

  “Can we get a selfie?”

  Amusement dances in Jocelyn’s eyes before she steps out of the way of the giggling girls. I cross my arms over my chest but smile. Whenever photos are involved, I make sure not to touch any of the fans, especially underage girls. The last thing I want is some rumor surfacing on the internet or in the tabloids.

  Once satisfied with the shots, the girls giggle some more as they admire the pictures.

  I turn back to Jocelyn, and she just shakes her head.

  “I believe you were getting ready to agree to a future coffee date,” I say as my fan club walks away.

  “I’m not sure I can handle a hot baseballer.”

  “I believe it’s the hottest,” I correct.

  “Come on, now. You’re no Kris Bryant.”

  “Pfft, please.”

  Her laugh draws my gaze to her mouth, and my heart hammers against my ribs. God, I’ve missed that sound. My new favorite activity—make Jocelyn laugh.

  “I really need to get going.”

  “Don’t think for one second you won’t be seeing me again,” I say when she turns to leave. She pauses but then steps forward without saying a word. As she slips through the crowd, I pull my phone from my pocket and dial Zach’s number. “Yeah, I’m going to need Jocelyn’s number.”

  Chapter Six

  JOCELYN

  Current Day

  The sins of my past haunt me as I stare at the early morning text. I read and reread the words for the umpteenth time, willing my heart to pace back to normal. “Good luck with your interview. You’re going to nail it.”

  There are no “good morning, beautiful” ramblings or any other displays of affection. Just one simple sentence wishing me luck. For a normal person, this gesture would be deemed as nice, and they’d go about their day, never giving the text another thought. But not me. Oh, no. His words crawl over my skin and warm my most intimate spots like he penned the sweetest piece of poetic literature.
>
  What is wrong with me?

  Thoughts of Jax Carrigan are the last things I need swirling in my brain. But I don’t know how to stop them. Lord knows, I’ve always been attracted to the man. That isn’t the problem. Learning to ignore said attraction is where the difficulty lies.

  I need Lacey. I miss her. She’d keep me from doing something stupid like responding to this text. After Jax and I broke up in college, I had no one to turn to. Sure, my roommate was there, but we weren’t close. Not the confide-in-each-other type of closeness, anyway. Besides, she sided with Jax and thought I was ridiculous. Maybe I was, but it didn’t feel like it at the time. All I knew was it hurt like hell. I tuned her out, blocked Jax’s phone number, and poured every ounce of energy into studying for the finals. As soon as I turned in the last test, I left campus and boarded the first flight to North Carolina.

  When I returned after break, Carl, who sat next to me during sociology, was in another class with me. Being that he was a familiar face, we sat by each other again. He treated me nice and made me feel special. Dating him was the furthest thing from my mind, but his constant pursuit wore me down. I finally caved. As much as I hate admitting it, he was what I needed at that time, and I did fall in love with him. It’s just…every time I saw Jax around campus—yes, even on graduation day—that crushing pain sensation never went away. Not fully. My stomach twisted into knots, and I mourned what we lost. Or what we could have had.

  I most definitely don’t mourn Carl. Every time the asshole picks up the kids, the only crushing sensation I envision is his balls against my knees. One day I may follow through with this desire. Perhaps tonight, when he picks up the kids.

  “Tristan, Trenna, hurry up.” I place the phone down on the kitchen table without responding. I should hate Jax with the same tenacity, but I never conjured those feelings toward him. Nope, never hate. Just pure sadness.