by Locklyn Marx
When the bill came, Jay paid for it with his black American Express. He noticed Alyssa didn’t pull her notebook out to make a note of that, which relieved him. Black Cards were pedestrian nowadays, with everyone from Jessica Simpson to Pete Rose to those Kardashian girls running around with them.
“Thanks for dinner,” Alyssa said as they walked outside. “I’m sure you have somewhere to be, so don’t worry about taking me back to Brooklyn.”
“We’re done?”
“What?”
“Well, I didn’t know the date was over.” And suddenly, he really didn’t want it to be.
“This isn’t a date.”
“I didn’t mean a date like that.”
“Oh.” She looked down at her watch, and Jay could see her weighing the options in her mind. Getting more dirt vs. going back to the hotel and relaxing. Finally, she shrugged. “What else did you have in mind?”
“I’m going to take you,” Jay said, “to my favorite place in the city.”
Chapter Three
Alyssa gazed out the window of Jay’s car as he drove through the streets of New York. The windows were tinted, which was good. Otherwise she’d feel self-conscious about all the staring she was doing. It was just so hard not to! Everyone in New York just looked…well, like someone you’d want to stare at. The people were diverse, from the woman in the long fur coat with the tiny little dog, to the group of people on the corner banging on drums and hoping people would drop change into the hat in front of them. It was very overwhelming, and not like Boston at all.
When she really thought about it, Jay was kind of right about Boston. It was a little bit pseudo-intellectual and kind of stuffy and crunchy. And even though it was a big city, it lacked the energy of New York.
She shifted in her seat, then reached into her bag and pulled out a bottle of water and took a long sip. That caviar had been disgusting, and she’d choked it down only because she hadn’t wanted to give Jay the satisfaction of seeing that she didn’t like it.
That’s what he’d been hoping, she could tell.
The car stopped, and Alyssa looked around. They were on a busy corner, with a sub shop across the street, and a bunch of nondescript little shops lining the sidewalk.
“Where are we?” She looked around for a club, or some kind of flashy monument or something where he’d take her to the top and show her a view of the city in an effort to dazzle her.
“I told you, we’re at my favorite place in New York.” He reached over and into the glove compartment, and as he did, his arm brushed against the side of her breast. She felt how hard his arms were, how strong, and for a second, she imagined what it would be like for him to take her in his arms and hold her close.
Jay rummaged around in the glove compartment for a few seconds, and then pulled out a hat and sunglasses.
“What are those?” Alyssa asked.
“My disguise.”
“Your disguise?”
“Yeah,” he said. He pulled the hat, a short knit green cap, down over his brown hair, and slid the glasses on. “Do I look like me?”
“Yes,” she said.
He nodded. “You’re right, it hardly ever works. I’ll get recognized for sure.” He sounded cheerful.
“Do you like getting recognized?” Alyssa asked.
He thought about it. “Sort of,” he said. “I don’t mind signing autographs and talking to fans. The only thing that sucks is when there’s a big group of people. They all start taking videos with their phones, and they want pictures, and then it wrecks whatever I’m trying to do.”
“So I should brace myself?”
“Well,” he said, and she was pretty sure she saw his eyes slide down to her cleavage. “We’ll see if it gets out of hand.”
She opened the car door and stepped onto the sidewalk, and he came around to meet her.
“What is this?” she asked as they walked up to a store. There were carts of books on the sidewalk, with cardboard signs that proclaimed them to be a dollar. It was a nice night, with the sun just starting to dip down, and a nice warm breeze, and so there were lots of people outside, browsing through the racks.
“What does it look like?” Jay asked. “It’s a bookstore.”
“Your favorite place in New York is a bookstore?”
“Yeah.” He shrugged. “Why, you don’t like books?”
“I’m a writer,” she said. “I love books.”
“Then you’ll love it here.”
She followed him inside, and saw a sign that said “The Strand, 18 Miles of Books.” She looked around. It was halfway between a warehouse and a bookstore, with floor to ceiling shelves as far as the eye could see, a bank of elevators to take you to another floor, and books, books, and more books.
“Wow,” she said.
“Pretty amazing, huh?”
She nodded. And then she decided to ditch him. She had to, at least for a little while. Books were her favorite things in the world, and she needed to be on her own to really have time to browse. Ever since she’d she’d learned how to read, she’d been in love with books. It was probably why she hadn’t had many friends growing up. While most of the neighborhood kids were out enjoying the summer by swimming in pools and running lemonade stands, she was holed up inside with a book.
“Meet you back here in half an hour?” Jay asked. Alyssa looked at him, and nodded, realizing that however much of a jerk he was, he obviously somehow got it when it came to books. The next thirty minutes were pure heaven, as she loaded up her arms with lots and lots of discounted books. Romances, thrillers, a young adult novel or two, and even a science fiction she’d heard good things about.
When she met up with Jay at the front of the store, he looked a little wary. “Find anything good?” he asked.
“Yeah,” she said. She nodded at the pile of books in his arms. “You?”
“Yeah.”
They waited in line, and Jay kept glancing over his shoulder.
“Okay,” he said finally, leaning into and whispering right into her ear. A shiver went through her body as she felt his breath on her skin. “I think we’ve been compromised. Crazy teenagers at six o’clock.”
Alyssa went to look, but Jay grabbed her arm and pulled her toward the register.
“Don’t look,” he said through gritted teeth.
“Why?” she whispered. “What will happen?”
“They’ll follow me,” he said. “Teenage girls always follow me. They like to find out where I live so they can hang out outside.”
“Isn’t that info available online?”
“Yes,” Jay said. “But they like to stalk. It’s more exciting to them or something.”
They paid for their purchases and walked outside, and as they did, Alyssa turned around. It was like being told not to think about something – of course you did the exact thing you weren’t supposed to do.
“Uh oh,” she said.
“What?” Jay looked behind him, where the teenage girls were dropping their books down onto a table that contained nothing but copies of Jonathan Franzen’s Freedom, and started running for the door. “You looked, didn’t you?”
Alyssa nodded, feeling kind of guilty.
“Come on.” He grabbed her arm and they walked quickly down the street, then ducked into a small space between two building.
Alyssa started to protest, but he put a finger to her lips. “Shhh,” he said.
She shut her mouth obediently. But he kept his finger on her lips, and Alyssa felt a frisson of heat rush through her body.
They stayed like that for a moment, not saying anything, Jay’s blue eyes intent on hers. And then, as if he were sensing her desire and had decided he wanted to drive her crazy, he started to make little circles on her lip with his thumb. She closed her eyes to try to get control of her senses, and when she opened them, he was leaning against the wall across from her, his fingers still on her lips, his eyes still locked on hers.
She froze, and his fingers moved down, over her lips, dow
n her neck, and onto her collarbone. One fingertip dipped below the top of her sweater, and slowly and lazily grazed the top of her breasts. She swallowed, hard, her whole body on fire.
She wanted to move toward him, to put her lips on his, to feel him pull her against his body. But the way he was looking at her told her she needed to stay put, that if she moved toward him, he’d stop her. He wanted to tease her, he was enjoying teasing her, and she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. But God, she wanted him.
He grinned at her, his fingers still moving lazily around her breasts. And then, finally, he took a step toward her. His tongue licked his top lip, and Alyssa closed her eyes and waited for the kiss.
She felt his chest against hers, and one of his hands was on the back of her neck, the other still making a drowsy pattern over her cleavage. She could feel his breath on her skin, and his mouth started moving up, closer to her ear. God she wanted to turn her head, she wanted his lips on hers, she needed to kiss him, she needed to –
“They’re gone,” he whispered, and then pulled away from her.
She opened her eyes, feeling as if she’d been slapped. They’re gone? What the hell? She took a deep breath, and white-hot rage boiled up inside of her. First at him, and then at herself. But, as with so many things that had happened tonight, she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.
“Thank God,” she said easily, hoping he didn’t notice the way her voice broke, and that he wasn’t close enough to hear how fast her heart was beating. She forced herself to smile. “We should probably get back to Brooklyn. Last thing we want is another run-in with crazy fans.” She walked out from between the buildings and waited for him to unlock the car.
Chapter Four
Jay woke up at six o’clock the next morning to the sound of knocking on his apartment door. Jay had an apartment in Brooklyn, where he stayed during the season.
And although not as nice as his downtown Manhattan loft, or the home he had in the Bahamas, it did have a doorman who didn’t let people up unannounced or make a habit of pounding on his door. Those kinds of things didn’t tend to happen at a twelve million dollar penthouse, even if it was Brooklyn.
Which meant it could only be one person. Chad.
“Go away!” Jay yelled. But then he heard the front door opening.
“Hey,” Chad said, walking into his bedroom. “Are you awake?”
“Obviously not,” Jay said, turning to look at his friend. “How did you get in here?”
“You gave me a key, remember? So I could feed the fish when you were in Mexico last year.”
Jay sighed, cursed himself for thinking that installing a full-wall aquarium would be a good idea, and then rolled over. He buried his head in his pillow and wished for Chad to go away.
There was a thunking sound, and Jay opened one eye to see Chad setting a coffee down on the nightstand next to him. Well. At least that was something. He reached out and grabbed it, downing a big gulp, then sat up in bed.
“What are you doing here?” Jay asked. Not that Chad needed a reason. Chad was a notorious early riser, which didn’t make much sense, since he was a bigger partier than Jay. But it didn’t matter what time Chad stumbled home from the clubs at night, he was always awake by six am.
“Came to hang out before practice.” Chad took a sip of his own coffee. “And to talk to you about Alyssa Cotler.” He grinned. “Some number you did on her yesterday.”
At the thought of Alyssa, Jay was suddenly awake. “What are you talking about?”
“You don’t know?”
“Don’t know what?”
“What she wrote about you.”
“Chad, it’s six o’clock in the morning, and you’re here, obviously waking me up, so why would I have any idea what she’s written about me?” He was already reaching for his laptop.
“I don’t know,” Chad said. “But if you were intent on pissing off Billingsley, wow, did you do a bang up job.”
Jay typed in the web address for The Juice, wondering what Alyssa had written.
He knew he’d fucked it all up with that little maneuver he’d pulled behind the bookstore.
The problem was, he hadn’t been able to help himself. Something about that girl had him all confused. He didn’t like her, or at least, he thought he didn’t. Which wasn’t even a deal breaker – he’d been with a lot of women that he didn’t really like. Most of them, actually. But Alyssa wasn’t even his type physically. She was curvy and dark-haired, and he usually went for the lithe, blonde model types.
But her body had been so close, and her curves had been pushed up next to him, and he’d loved the look on her face when he’d been running his fingers over her skin.
He’d loved teasing her, wanted to tease her all night, but he only if there was going to be some sort of payoff. And there hadn’t been. At the end of the night, she’d hopped out of his car and gone up to her hotel room alone, even though he’d offered to walk her up.
When he’d gotten home, he’d lain awake for at least an hour, thinking about how bad he wanted her and trying to ignore his erection.
He shook his head now and tried to clear his thoughts.
“So are you going to read it?” Chad was asking.
“I don’t want to,” Jay said. But his curiosity got the best of him, and before he could stop himself, he was clicking through to Alyssa’s column. Bad publicity didn’t usually bother him, and so he tried to keep his expression blank while he read it, so that Chad wouldn’t know that anything was up.
It was worse than he’d thought. She’d torn him apart. She hadn’t mentioned their little moment behind the bookstore, thank God, but she’d talked about his car, his sunglasses, the way he’d ordered caviar in an effort to impress her, and how she’d gotten the feeling he was hoping she wouldn’t eat it.
It was all true of course, but he felt himself starting to get angry. How dare she?
He’d been nothing but nice to her, taking her out to dinner, showing her around the city, taking her to the bookstore. Granted, it had been so that he could get on her good side, but she didn’t know that.
Although, Jay thought, he supposed she might have figured it out. But still. That moment behind the bookstore hadn’t been all him. He’d seen it on her face. She’d wanted him just as much as he wanted her. Hadn’t she? Suddenly, he wasn’t sure. And he didn’t like the way it made him feel.
“Fucking Alyssa Cotler,” he muttered under his breath.
“Yup,” Chad said agreeably. He’d produced a bag of trail mix from somewhere, and was munching on it.
“So how pissed is Billingsley?” Jay asked.
“Pissed,” Chad said. “I talked to Kylie this morning, and she said he came in huffing and puffing. There’s going to be a meeting after batting practice.”
“Fuck him,” Jay decided. And fuck Alyssa Cotler. He was sick of being Mr.
Nice Guy. All it did was bring him grief, obviously. It was better when everyone thought he was an asshole.
***
Alyssa made sure she was awake early, even though she’d had a hard time falling asleep the night before. Once she’d gotten out of Jay Havens’s car, she couldn’t calm down. It was like her whole body had been charged with electricity. She’d written her column, sent it to Isobel, and then she’d lain awake, flipping through the channels on the TV and watching infomercials until after two in the morning. When she’d finally fallen asleep, she’d been so nervous that she was going to miss her seven o’clock wake up call that she’d kept startling awake, looking at the clock.
Finally at six forty-five she decided to give up, and reached over and grabbed her Blackberry. She had an email from Isobel, which said the column had required few edits, was fabulous, and was now live.
Alyssa swallowed, suddenly nervous. When she’d written it, she’d been angry, pissed off that Jay Havens thought he could have her in some back alley and tease her like that. But now, with the early morning light streaming in through the crack betw
een the curtains, and the prospect of having to face Jay and the rest of the Heat at their practice this morning, she just felt anxious.
She took a deep breath and stumbled out of bed and into the bathroom. She cranked the shower as hot as it could go, and stood under the warm stream, letting the hot water soothe her tense muscles. After about twenty minutes, she was feeling better, and wrapped herself in a warm towel.
She opened her suitcase and surveyed what she’d brought. She’d been instructed to dress comfortably, so she settled on a pair of nice jeans and a dark green wrap sweater.
There was a knock on the door, and for a second, for some reason, Alyssa thought it might be Jay. She thought of him again, last night, the way his tongue had licked his lips, the way he’d been looking at her, like he was daring her to stay away from him.
Screw you, Alyssa thought and opened the door.
“Alyssa Cotler?” the man at the door asked. He was wearing a bellman’s uniform, had shaggy dark hair, and was holding what looked like a shirt box.
“Yes?”
“Sign here please.” He held out a clipboard, and Alyssa signed obediently. She tipped the man, then brought the box into her room and set it down on the bed. The return address was stamped with the Brooklyn Heat logo, a bullet sliding through a circle with a tail of red fire trailing behind it. Probably some kind of welcome package.
When she opened it, a Heat uniform fell out, along with a note. She picked it up.
Dear Alyssa,
We are so excited to have you with us for the next week. Please wear this complimentary uniform for our first day together. We’d love to have you post pictures on your website!
So looking forward to meeting you.
Sincerely,
Dax Reynolds, Captain, Brooklyn Heat
Alyssa unfurled the uniform, her heart sinking. A baseball uniform? They wanted her to wear a baseball uniform on her first day with the team? Not only that, but the uniform was pink. Well, not completely pink. It was mostly white. But where the normal uniforms had streaks of blue, Alyssa’s was pink. Cotler was written on the back in pink letters, and the number 17. Alyssa wondered why they picked that number.
She sighed and looked at the uniform. Fine, she decided, if she was going to wear the uniform, she was going all out.
