by Alice Ward
The tires met the pavement with force, bouncing me in my seat. Katrina’s eyes were clamped tightly shut, her knuckles white on the armrests. She was scared. I reached over, placed my hand on hers. “It’s okay. We’ve landed.”
Her smile was obviously forced, still sweet even with the fear and anxiousness so readily displayed behind it. I gave her hand a tight squeeze before letting it go, and then helped her pack up her briefcase.
We didn’t speak about what happened outside that bathroom door again. I gathered her overhead bag, smiled graciously at her, and let her exit the plane in front of me. Her small waist, full rear, and swagger in those high heels were enough to work my blood back down to my dick. The guys were all riotously excited, slapping each other on the ass, chattering about the game, the city, and the partying they planned to do. I was still the odd man out, not exactly thought of as a team member just yet. I didn’t really know any of these guys, at least not outside of the field. I had always been the enemy, the player on the other New York team. Trying to find a way to not only fit in but prove I belonged wasn’t going to be easy.
The shuttle turned right on Ocean Boulevard, driving north of all the action. I watched out the window as the streets grew emptier and emptier. Katrina was busy snapping photos of the team, posting updates, and working her PR magic. “Why are we all the way out here?” Luke asked.
Katrina smiled, smirked really. “You have to ask?”
Calvin chuckled, slapping Luke on the shoulder.
The shuttle stopped in front of a tall white condominium building. The driver hit the button, releasing the door open. This was it.
I stepped out, moved aside while Calvin, Luke, and the others piled out. Katrina gathered her things, I reached my hand out to help her step off the bus, but she smiled politely and ignored my assistance. “You have something to do with us being out here in the middle of nowhere?” I asked.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she smirked. Yeah, she knew.
I could see Lana doing something like this. She was a real ballbuster, but Katrina appeared so sweet. Maybe that image was like her Snapchat. Only a façade.
“Need some help?” I asked, trying to reach for her suitcase. She snapped the handle up, kicked the large suitcase outward, and smiled as she began rolling it away. Okay, so she doesn’t need my help.
I knew I looked like a lost puppy dog chasing her around, but she had me reeling. “Let me,” I said quickly, pushing the elevator button. The other guys already had their keys and were on their way up to their rooms, leaving Katrina and me behind. I didn’t mind. I could use some more time alone with her. Maybe I’d get a glimpse at her room location.
I hit the seven button. “Which floor?”
“Three.”
I pressed the three reluctantly. Disappointment fell over me as I realized how far our rooms were apart. “They’re remodeling the lower floors. That’s the lowest I could get,” she said, that sweet flush of embarrassment moving into her cheeks.
“You don’t like heights that badly?” I teased.
Her head shook while her lips pursed together. It was obvious the elevator was even a discomfort to her. I smiled, and a soft chuckle escaped my lips as I stared at her. There was always something about a strong woman showing vulnerability that turned me on.
“See ya at practice,” she said quickly, scampering from the elevator like a field mouse.
I settled into my room. It was nice with a view of the pool. I pulled out my notebook, started studying the players on my team, and worked on a strategy to share with Calvin at morning practice.
I woke up with notes scattered all over my bed. I wasn’t even sure when I’d fallen asleep. Shit, I overslept.
I didn’t have time to shower, shave, or even think before grabbing my gear and heading out the door. The elevator was taking forever, stopping on what appeared to be every floor. C’mon!
Finally, the doors opened, and I slipped inside. The ride down was swift, passing all the floors until it stopped and opened on the third. Katrina looked up, her mouth falling open in surprise, possibly something else, longing? She quickly slipped into the elevator next to me. I wasn’t sure what impact I had on her, but it was obvious the impact she had on me. The Earth’s atmosphere seemed to change when she smiled, or even neared. Oh, the things I could do to her right now. That stop button taunted me, begging me to push it and steal a kiss before the doors opened. “How’d you sleep?” I asked, hoping she’d thought about me while alone in her room.
“I didn’t.”
My lips were curling into a smile that I couldn’t stop. Her makeup was perfect, her hair in place, and her skirt and jacket looked as though they were just picked up at the cleaners. She didn’t look like someone who hadn’t slept. Damn, she was gorgeous.
“I didn’t realize you had to be at practice,” I said as the door opened.
The lobby was swamped with players, all restless and pacing over the navy blue carpet as they waited on the shuttles. “I have to observe,” she said quickly, gripping her briefcase to her side as she exited the elevator. Her legs were long, lean, and looked to be toned in those expensive high-heeled shoes. The slit in her skirt was high enough that I could see her upper thigh as she took a step. The jacket she wore covered the thin blouse that was buttoned up to her neck. She wasn’t showing off anything, even though I was certain she had plenty to flaunt. Damn, that was making my jeans tighten.
“I’ll see ya out there,” she said without eye contact. I watched her glide through the players and outside the doors. She slid into the backseat of a white car as the driver closed the door.
“You ready for this?” Luke asked, pulling me out of the trance I was in. The white car drove away, a group of shuttles arriving almost instantly after.
“Yeah,” I said confidently, even though I wasn’t sure if I was ready to deal with Calvin.
The guys began pushing their way out the front doors and into the waiting shuttles. I followed Luke, climbing onboard the second shuttle as Calvin loaded onto the first. There’d be plenty of time to deal with him. I at least needed a cup of coffee before we had to strategize together, since I woke up late and missed breakfast.
“Morris, Malone, you two work together today,” Coach yelled after we all piled into the locker room.
I watched Calvin’s eyes roll over me. His irritation was visible. Chuck it off, Morris.
I pulled my gear from the canvas bag the assistant handed me upon arrival, stuffed it into the locker in front of me, and started to get dressed. Most of the other players were already in their gear, causing me to rush while the coach shouted out his expectations. I’d already heard enough. He wanted me to work with Calvin, just what I was dreading.
The field was somewhat desolate with the few fans that had arrived early. The air was warm, but still brisk as I stared out into the open field.
“You ready for this?” Calvin asked.
I turned to find him standing over me as I tightened my knee pads on the bench.
“Yeah, let’s talk strategy,” I said, eager to get our issues behind us and start playing ball.
He sat down beside me, didn’t loosen the tightness in his face, and shook his head. “No strategy to discuss. I’ll just fill you in on what’s been working.”
Wow, so he’s one of those pitchers. I knew he was arrogant, and that he had the talent to back it up most of the time. But the fact remained… a good pitcher is only as good as his catcher. And, that was me, whether he liked it or not.
“Like it or not—” I started to say.
“I don’t,” he cut in.
“Yeah, this is not what I wanted either. But if we want this to work, we have to work together.” I fought back my desire to spout off a few more items on my agenda, like he didn’t deserve Whitney, or he was lucky to be back in the game after his injury, or the fact that he wasn’t as good as he thought he was.
“The way I see it, you’re the only one who needs this t
o work. You have nowhere else to go.” He smirked and tossed a baseball in my direction. My reflexes kicked in, reaching out and snatching the ball that floated past me. My fingers tightened around the leather as I tried to control my anger. I wanted to toss it back toward him, but not soft and easy like he’d done. I had a strong arm, stronger than his — I could hurl a ball to second while lying flat on the ground if I needed to. I could knock him down a notch or two if I wanted, but I needed my pitcher cocky, at least a little, in order to get the best game from him.
“You might wanna do your homework. This wasn’t my last resort. Rhett paid a pretty penny to get me here,” I chuckled, loving the look on Calvin’s face as it turned from smug to bewildered.
It was true. He had paid far more than he should have. The Mets were obviously done with me, worried that I’d tarnish their squeaky clean image, or their insurance policy, with my wild antics.
Calvin grabbed his glove, stormed away from me, and headed toward the field. All those notes I’d taken, focusing highly on the guys already here were a waste, I guess. At least for now.
I finished gearing up and made my way to the plate. I squatted down, took position, and watched as the coach sent up Singleton for the first pitch. Calvin spit on the mound, kicked at the dirt, and looked as if he were in agony to have to make eye contact with me. This was bullshit.
I signaled for a fastball to land on the inside corner of the plate, and of course, Calvin shook it off. Luke loved to crowd the plate, and he was a heavy hitter, so keeping the ball low and close was important. I shook my head, signaled for a curveball. He shook it off again. What the fuck?
“What do you want?” I yelled out in irritation.
“Is there a problem, ladies?” Coach called out in my direction.
I shook my head, signaled again, and again, until Calvin finally agreed to a knuckleball that Luke hit over the fence. He paraded around the plates with a victorious stance, waving to the empty stands as he rounded third. I was pissed. Calvin knew I was pissed.
Finally, practice ended. Calvin had been a real pain in the ass out there on the field. He wasn’t willing to talk strategy with me, listen to any of my calls, or even consider that I may know a thing or two about my job.
“Sorry I was so hard on ya out there.” Calvin slapped me on the shoulder.
I turned, surprised to hear anything positive from Calvin Malone. I wondered if he realized that by trying to do it all himself, he wasn’t much good. He needed me as much as I needed him if this was to work.
“I can take it, but the game can’t,” I said. “Your last catcher was young and green. I know your competition. Hell, I was your competition. I know who crowds the plate, who has a tendency to step in the bucket, who is anxious, impatient, and who has the best short-to-long swings. You need to listen to me.” It felt good to get that off my chest.
His lips curled into a smile, almost a smirk, but still genuine. Another pat on the shoulder, no words, just the pat, and he walked away. Was he just toying with me?
A beautiful Wide Glide Harley Davidson sat in the parking lot, the chrome glistening against the Florida sun. I stopped, admiring the beauty, the power, and the sheer sexiness of the bike as Coach strolled up beside me.
“You know that’s off limits. Any of your dumb stunts here and you’re gone.”
Before I could agree, disagree, or come off with a smartass remark, Coach was gone, heading to the first shuttle.
“We’re all going out for a drink later, you wanna come?” Luke asked as he passed by me. I was still staring at the bike, wishing it was mine. I’d already researched the area and knew there was a place up the road where I could rent one. Who did the Coach think he was anyway? He couldn’t tell me what to do no more than the Mets' coach could.
“Sure,” I answered Luke and followed him to the shuttle. I watched out the window as Katrina strolled through the parking lot toward her white car. Rhett must’ve hired her a driver, nice. I understood him not wanting her on the shuttle with us guys. We were loud, rude, and probably stunk worse than we realized. Her on a different floor, focusing on the team, not just me, it was making it hard for me to show her how charming I was. Maybe a bike ride would be just what I needed to get her attention where it belonged. On me.
Some of the other guys started flowing into town. At the hotel I watched Ace unload his suitcases from the airport shuttle and head inside. The little blonde at the customer counter was batting her eyelashes a mile a minute in his direction as he handed her his driver’s license. The old Ace would’ve snatched her up from behind that counter, pulled her into the broom closet, and made a memory she’d never forget. But, this guy, I wasn’t sure who the fuck this guy was. He smiled graciously and took the key and his ID from her without eye contact. Wow, it was like watching a strange movie, one you thought you’d figured out, and then it slaps you in the face with an unexpected twist.
“Hey man, how was practice?” he asked, walking alongside me toward the elevator.
“Not bad,” I lied. It was fucking horrible. Malone and his fuckin’ attitude. But, they had been big time buddies there for a while so I kept my mouth shut.
“You with Calvin?” he asked. His face turned serious, his lips pursed together tightly, and he slapped the elevator button with a vengeance. I nodded.
He laughed as the elevator doors opened. He stood aside, letting me enter first. I watched as he shook his head, grinned wildly, and pushed my floor number. “What floor?” he asked.
“Same.”
“Cool. You goin’ out with the guys tonight?”
I still wasn’t sure, even though I’d told Luke yes. They weren’t my team. They certainly weren’t my friends.
“Only way you're gonna fit in is to mix it up with ‘em,” he said as if reading my mind.
“I’m not worried about fitting in.”
I was used to being on my own. I was the catcher, the guy behind the mask no one noticed. I liked that just fine. Even though I did most of the hard work on that field, making life easier for my team, harder for our opponents, I wasn’t the one who got slapped on the back or picked up on the player’s shoulders. My job was to make the pitcher look good, my team, Calvin. Fuck, I hated my job.
“I’ll pick you up in an hour,” Ace said with a smile.
I exited the elevator with Ace watching me as I slid the key into my door. He disappeared around the corner as I entered my room. Maybe he was right. I needed to make things work with Calvin, and I couldn’t do that if he didn’t listen to me. Yes, a beer would be the perfect icebreaker.
My knees ached from slamming them into the hard ground all day. I stripped out of my clothes, turned the shower faucet as hot as it would go, and stood under the soothing streams of water. My day wasn’t great, but it was better than expected. I had no idea what to expect at the bar, with Calvin, with the topic of Whitney looming over both of us like a black cloud. Damn, I actually missed that girl. Her smell, her soft skin, and her taste were all still lurking in my memories. I hated when she took Calvin back. At the time, I didn’t think he deserved her. If I was being completely honest, I still didn’t.
My dick was already at attention, standing firm against the streams of water. Whitney’s long hair and big eyes were haunting me, teasing me, exciting me. I knew they were happy, she was happy. But, a part of me wished they weren’t.
I lathered up, taking special care not to spend too much time around my aroused dick. I didn’t want to rub one off, not yet. My mind wandered to Katrina, the sweet, full lips I’d wanted to kiss, those beautiful green eyes that made me melt, and her long sandy blonde hair I wanted to set free from the loose bun she wore on top of her head. She reminded me a little bit of Whitney. She had the same good girl, girl next door kind of look, kind of attitude. Fuck, my dick was getting harder.
I turned the water to cold, not just a little, but all the way to the iciest setting. The streams of water pricked at my skin like fine needles. My dick released the blood it was h
olding and allowed it to flow through my body for warmth and comfort.
After drying off, changing twice, and pacing back and forth a number of times in my room, a knock sounded on my door. What had I gotten myself into?
“Hey, wild man,” I greeted Ace who was standing on the other side of my door.
He wore a tight t-shirt, loose jeans, and had his dark hair slicked back away from his face. There was something about him. Something even I had to admit was sexy. He was cool, confident, and even though the entire league knew what he’d gone through—the entire world knew—you couldn’t tell it to look at him.
“You ready to roll, hot shot?” he asked, offering up a crooked smile.
“Absolutely.” I grabbed my wallet, shoved it into the jeans I wore, wishing I’d kept the looser Levi’s on instead of changing into the tighter ones.
The shuttle waited for us outside the condo. Several of the guys were already loaded on, including Kane Steele, the new first baseman the tabloids had gone wild for. He wasn’t a troublemaker, a daredevil, or even a partier, he was just “plain dreamy” according to several of the front pages I’d read.
“I can’t believe I’m a Beast,” he boasted, beating his chest like a gorilla as he spoke.
Ace chuckled at Kane, but slid in beside me, slapped me on the shoulder, and then did something I never thought I’d see Ace Newman do. “Hey, you see my little man?” He pulled out his phone and began scrolling through images of a dark-haired, dark-eyed infant.
“That’s Rip. Rip Newman.” His voice was so proud, and his eyes looked to me like they wanted, needed my approval of this child.
“He’s handsome.”
“Handsome? He’s down right sexy this kid.” Ace laughed.
“Oh yeah, he’s posin’ for the ladies right there.” I pointed to the picture of little Rip with his leg hiked up on a chair. Ace laughed, harder than I’d expected, and pushed his phone back into his pocket.
I still couldn’t believe this was the same man. Ace Newman, what happened to you?
