by Locklyn Marx
“Helllo,” Jessa purred, apparently over her nervousness.
“Me and Dax are are going to hang at the bar,” Chad said. “You guys should come sit with us.”
Alyssa started to shake her head no – she’d had enough of baseball players for the day — but before she could, Jessa said, “We’d love to!”
“Great,” Chad said. “What are you ladies drinking?”
“Red wine,” Alyssa said, and sighed.
“Grey Goose martini,” Jessa said.
Once Chad was headed back toward the bar, Jessa grabbed Alyssa’s hand in a death grip. “Oh my God,” she said. “He is soo hot.” She rooted around in her purse and pulled out her compact. “Do I look okay?”
“You look fine,” Alyssa said. She was starting to get a headache.
They joined Chad at the bar, and a few minutes later, Dax Reynolds showed up to join them. Alyssa had downed her glass of wine a little too fast, and when she went to say hello to Dax, she stumbled a bit on her heels.
“Whoa,” Dax said, putting his hands on her waist to steady her. “Careful there.”
“Sorry,” she said. “I’m not used to these shoes.”
“Yeah, yeah, likely story,” he said. But he was grinning.
“Seriously,” she said. “I’m fine.” A few stools down, Jessa was hanging all over Chad, tilting her head back as she laughed at every word he said.
“If you’re okay,” Dax said, taking her hand, “then come dance with me.”
“Oh, no,” Alyssa said, “I couldn’t possibly – ”
But he was pulling her through the crowd, and everyone was staring at them.
Well, him. Alyssa assumed they were staring at him, not her, since no one knew who she was. She didn’t want to dance, but she didn’t want to seem lame. And she could hear Isobel’s voice in her head, telling her that she needed to get close to the team, to make them trust her. Of course, Alyssa didn’t know how she could do that while still writing the truth, but she guessed she’d have to figure out how to strike some kind of happy medium.
So she danced. And drank wine. And danced. And dank more wine. And by the time she got home at two in the morning, she still hadn’t written her column.
***
Jay’s cell phone rang at six the next morning, and he rolled over and saw it was Steve, his agent. Jay groaned. Agents were never out of bed before ten in the morning, and if they were, it was because something horrible was happening.
“Hello, Steve,” Jay chirped into the phone, even though he felt like being anything but chirpy. “How are you this fine morning? Me, I’m fine, thanks for asking.
Just enjoying a lovely cappuccino at an outside café. The birds are singing, and – ”
“Save it, Havens,” Steve said. “I’m not in the mood for your bullshit.”
Jay sighed and settled back into the pillows, deciding the best way to handle this was to just take his beating. It usually seemed to work. Like when he’d married that stripper in Vegas. Steve had had a fucking coronary over that one. Jay grinned at the memory.
“So what’s going on?” Jay asked.
“What’s going on?” Steve repeated. “What’s going on is that Billingsley read what that reporter wrote about you, and he’s not happy.”
Oh. Jay relaxed. “Is that all?”
“Is that all? That’s a really big fucking deal, Havens. The only reason Billingsley even let that girl hang with the team was because he needed to do some damage control. Unfortunately, you’re creating even more damage.”
Jay sighed. “Don’t worry,” he said. “I’ll fix it.”
“Fix it! How do you plan on fixing it?”
“I’ll go find her, I’ll hang out with her, I’ll change her mind.”
“Yeah,” Steve said. “Well, you better do something. They’re not going to renew your contract, Jay. Definitely not for the money you want, and maybe not at all.”
“Don’t worry,” Jay said. “I’m handling it.” He hung up the phone.
He showered, changed into a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt, and then headed out of his apartment and toward Alyssa’s hotel. The city was quiet at this time of the morning, and Jay moved through the street quickly, stopping off at the bodega on the corner to grab two coffees and a bag of freshly baked muffins. It was only when he was a couple blocks away from Alyssa’s hotel that he saw it.
The New York Post. There was a huge picture on the front page of Dax Reynolds. And Alyssa. They were dancing. His arms were around her, and she was leaning in, grinding on him, laughing at something he was saying. She was wearing a short black skirt and high shoes, and she looked hot. And like she was really enjoying herself.
Chapter Six
There was a knock on the door, and Alyssa opened her eyes, her hotel room blearily coming into focus. Shit, shit, shit. She’d been up at five, but she must have fallen back asleep. Her computer was open on her bed, her column almost done being written, but not quite. She needed to get it into Isobel before nine if it was going to be posted on time.
The knocking came harder this time, and Alyssa said, “No thanks, no housekeeping today.” There’s no way she’d be able to concentrate with a vacuum cleaner going, and she’d gladly sacrifice fresh new sheets and towels so that she could get her work done.
The knock sounded again, and Alyssa sighed. She pulled herself out of bed and shuffled toward the door, then peered through the peephole. Oh, God. It was Jay Havens! Jay Havens was standing outside her door.
“Hello?” he said, and pounded on the door. Alyssa turned around and put her back against the door, wondering if she could just let him stay out there and pretend she wasn’t here. Isobel would be pissed that she’d missed a chance to interact with a player, but Isobel would never know. Unless Jay somehow told someone, but why would he do that? And if he did, Alyssa would just say she’d been out early, at a coffee shop, working on her column. Or going for a stroll in Central Park. Isn’t that what people in New York did? They were always going for strolls in Central Park, it was like a rule, they –
“I hear you in there,” Jay said cheerfully. “So you might as well open the door.”
“Go away,” Alyssa said.
“Well, that’s not very friendly.”
“What are you doing here?”
“Came to talk.” He still sounded cheerful.
“About what?”
“Lots of things, but mostly this picture of you on the front of the New York Post.
Now, I wouldn’t have advised you wear such a short skirt, but –”
Alyssa pulled the chain off the door and quickly let him in. “What are you talking about?” She grabbed the paper out of his hand and scanned it, her mouth dropping.
“Good morning to you, too,” Jay said. He moved past her into the room and set two cups of coffee down on the desk.
Alyssa looked at the paper, her heart starting to beat fast, bile rising up in her throat. There she was, splashed across the front of a New York City paper. Whoever’d taken the picture had caught her mid-move, her hair whipping around in front of her face.
Dax’s hands were on her hips, and she was leaning into him.
She looked like some kind of crazed banshee. What made it worse was that the patrons of the bar were all looking at them. Of course they’d been looking at them, Dax was an ultra-famous baseball player. But the picture made it look like they were being watched because people couldn’t believe what they were seeing, like Alyssa was some kind of crazy sexed-up vixen or something. She peered closer at the picture. Was that Jessa in the background? Yes! It was! She was sitting at the bar, her hand wrapped around her martini, looking at Alyssa with a scandalized look on her face.
Oh, God. She rested her forehead against the door. She felt sick. “Crazy, isn’t?”
Jay said. “Being in the press?” He crossed the room and took the paper out of her hand, and Alyssa turned around. She felt faint, and she walked over and sat down on the bed.
“Are
you okay?” Jay’s face suddenly went from jokey to concerned, and he sat down next to her. “Eat,” he commanded, taking a muffin out of the bag he’d been holding.
He held the muffin out to her, and Alyssa took a bite. As she did, her mouth brushed against his fingers, and her whole body was suddenly aflame. He was looking at her again, the same way he was looking at her the other day in the alley. Her breath caught in her chest.
“Are you okay?” Jay asked.
“Yeah.” Alyssa pulled her eyes away and tried to calm herself down. “It was just a little shocking, seeing myself like that.”
Jay looked at the picture. “Tell me about it.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Alyssa asked, suddenly indignant.
“Nothing. Just that you don’t seem like the type.”
“The type to what?”
“The type to go out clubbing with a guy you’re supposed to be working with in a professional capacity.”
“Is that what you think I was doing?” Alyssa stood up and glared at him.
“Isn’t it?”
“No.”
He stood up then. “I didn’t like it,” he said.
“You didn’t like what?”
He took a step toward her, getting so close that his chest was pressed against hers.
She could feel the muscles in his chest even though he was wearing a sweatshirt. He smelled like soap and shampoo and an expensive cologne. His scent made her want to gasp, that’s how sexy it was, and she loved that he was wearing a sweatshirt while smelling like an expensive cologne.
“I didn’t like that you were with him.” He pushed even closer to her. “I didn’t like that he was taking care of you yesterday, and I didn’t like seeing you dancing with him.”
“You didn’t see me dancing with him,” Alyssa said.
“Good thing, too,” Jay said. “Because I would have punched him.”
Alyssa felt heat starting up from in between her legs and radiating through her body. She wondered what it would feel like to reach up under his sweatshirt, to run her hands over his torso, his chest, his skin. No, she told herself, he’s playing you. All he wants is for you to let your guard down, he’s mad at you for what you wrote, he’s trying to get close to you so that you’ll write good things about him.
“I wanted to kiss you the other night,” he said huskily. “I did, and then you went and did that with him.”
“I didn’t do anything with him,” Alyssa said. Her voice was weak, because his closeness was making her head spin. But Jay must have taken it to mean that she had done something with Dax, because he grabbed her around the waist and pulled her close to him. She got crushed against the hardness of his chest, and her nipples hardened under her t-shirt.
“I hope not,” Jay said. And then he knelt down, his lips just a centimeter from hers. He was still looking into her eyes, and his lips were this close, this close, to hers.
She wanted to kiss him, she did, but it looked like he was asking for permission, waiting for her to make the first move. But before she could let him, he decided on his own.
He pulled her closer, harder, and pushed his lips into hers. His tongue slid hungrily into her mouth. He tasted sweet and minty and the kiss surprised her, as it was rough and yet tender at the same time.
She felt like she wanted to be swallowed up by him, and when his hands moved up under the back of her t-shirt and stroked her skin softly, she moaned. He pulled back, softly biting on the bottom of her lip, teasing her gently and then, just when she felt like she was going to explode, he kissed her again.
She kissed him back, letting his hands roam under her shirt. He ran his fingers up her sides, causing shivers to run through her body even as a scorching heat was building up between her legs. He got closer and closer to touching her breasts, but every time he did, he backed off at the last second.
Alyssa wanted to feel his hands all over her more than anything, and she kissed him harder, hoping he would get the message that she was his, that he could do whatever he wanted, that she just wanted him, she wanted him to take her and -Her cell phone rang then, the special ring she reserved for Isobel, and it broke the spell immediately. Alyssa felt like a bucket of cold water had been thrown on her, and she bit back a gasp, realizing that if she’d been left to her own devices, if she’d allowed Jay allowed to do what he was about to do, it would have been very, very bad.
She reached over and grabbed her phone off the bed.
“Alyssa!” Isobel barked. “I’m looking at my inbox, and I have nothing from you.”
“I know,” Alyssa said. “I’m sorry, I’m just putting the finished touches on my column.”
“Well, get it over here!” Isobel said. “And I saw the New York Post story.”
Alyssa held her breath, waiting to see what was going to happen. “I’m going to reserve judgment until I see what you’re turning in.”
The line went dead, and Alyssa let out her breath. She turned to look at Jay, who was standing there, still looking at her with want and desire in his eyes. Her lips felt swollen from his kisses, and her body suddenly wanted to be back against his.
No, she told herself, you have a column to write.
“Jay,” she said, “you have to leave.”
“Leave?” Jay grinned and moved toward her. “But we were just getting started.”
She pushed him away, and this time, she said it forcefully. “No,” she told him.
“I’m sorry, but … you have to leave. Right now.”
***
The day was getting warmer as Jay walked out of Alyssa’s hotel and onto the street. His head was a mess, and his blood was boiling.
The only thing he could think about was that kiss. The meeting hadn’t gone at all where it was supposed to go – he was supposed to try to make Alyssa realize he was a nice guy, but somehow, it hadn’t turned out that way. It was that damn Dax! When Jay had seen the picture of him with Alyssa, he’d been filled with jealousy.
Why had she been dancing with Dax like that, with her hair all wild, totally letting herself go? Every time he was around her, she was guarded. Except when he was kissing her. Then she hadn’t been guarded. Well, not completely. He’d sensed a certain hesitation on her part, but he could also sense the want, simmering underneath her frosty exterior.
He decided to he needed some kind of exercise to work off what he was feeling.
That and a cold shower. So he took a car to Lerner Field, and then head down to the team gym. Chad was already there, running on the treadmill.
“Yo,” Chad said. “I didn’t think I’d see you here so early.”
Jay grunted a response. Chad was his best friend, but Jay just wanted to be left alone. He wanted to run, to push his body until his lungs burned and his legs were on fire. He had to get Alyssa out of his head.
“Of course,” Chad went on, seemingly oblivious to Jay’s disinterest. “I didn’t think I’d be here either. But I spent the night with Jessa.”
Jay didn’t know who Jessa was, and he didn’t care. Chad had a different woman every single night, which wasn’t really of note when you were a major league baseball player. Hell, even some of the married players were known to mess around once in a while. Their wives either turned the other cheek, or had an arrangement worked out.
That kind of arrangement wasn’t for Jay – that’s why he never got involved. He had his fun, but honestly, who wanted the kind of responsibility that a relationship entailed?
“Yup,” Chad said. “Spent the night with Jessa all right.”
“Who’s Jessa?” Jay asked, only because he knew if he didn’t, Chad would end up bugging him for the rest of their workout.
“Alyssa’s friend.”
At the sound of her name, Jay’s head jerked up. He hopped on the treadmill next to Chad. “You were at the club with Alyssa last night?”
“Restaurant,” Chad corrected. “Yeah. And her friend Jessa was ready for it.”
“So you saw her with D
ax then?”
Chad frowned. “Jessa wasn’t with Dax.” He said it like that very thought was completely ridiculous. “I just told you she was with me.”
“Not Jessica,” Jay said.
“Jessa,” Chad corrected.
“Whatever,” Jay said, knowing that her name didn’t matter, since she’d be forgotten about by tomorrow. “I meant Alyssa.”
“Oh, yeah, Alyssa was with Dax,” Chad said. “They were dancing, I think. I don’t know, it was a little fuzzy after the tequila.”
Jay sighed, not believing that this was the source he had for what really went on last night. He’d read the New York Post article – studied every single detail. It had claimed that Dax and Alyssa had been canoodling all night, that there might even be a blossoming romance between the two. But he knew more than anyone that the Post could get things completely wrong. They could claim someone was breaking up when they were about to get married, they could claim you were having sex when you were having a business meeting.
“Did she seem like she liked it?” Jay asked. “Dancing with Dax like that?”
“Of course she liked it,” Chad said. “The Heat is on the move!” He grunted a little bit, and then held his hand up to give Jay the opportunity to give him a high five.
Jay looked at him in disgust, then pushed the speed on his treadmill up from four miles an hour to seven.
He started to run, letting his muscles warm up, letting the morning flow out of him. He pushed the speed up to eight miles an hour, and started to lose himself in the run.
After a few minutes, Chad said, “So you like her.”
“What?”
“You’re interested in her. In Alyssa.”
“No, I’m not,” Jay scoffed.
“Jay,” Chad said, “the last time you acted like this was over Marti.”
“Acted like what?”
“Like you want to rip the head off any guy who even looks at her.”
“First,” Jay said, “don’t ever mention Marti’s name again. And second, I’m not interested Alyssa Cotler.” He reached down and put the ear buds of his iPod into his ears, and then turned the treadmill up even more, letting the music echo and pound through his ears.
