by Amy Brown
“Do you want me off the team or something?”
“That’s not what this is about.” He frowns.
I shrug. “Then I’m not sure why you’re asking me that.”
“Being on the team is a privilege.” He grimaces. “You earned your spot, but I want players who love the sport.”
“Have I done something wrong?” Maybe I don’t love playing baseball, but I’m good at it. I always help the team win.
“Not at all. Like I said, you’re an asset. But there are kids who love the sport, chomping at the bit for an opportunity to get on the team. You skip practice a lot lately. I’ve been doing this a long time, and I know when a kid isn’t doing it for the right reasons.”
My face warms. “My dad wouldn’t be happy if I quit.” My dad donates a lot of money to Harbor Academy’s athletic department. Odds are he wouldn’t do that anymore if I’m not playing for them. I want to be sure he understands that. Cutting me loose could end up biting him in the ass.
“I’m not trying to force you off the team. I’m just trying to figure out where your head is at. As good as you are, I highly doubt you want a baseball scholarship. You don’t need one either, not with the money your dad has. But there are lots of kids who love the sport who could really use the opportunity at a baseball scholarship.”
I harden my jaw. “Kind of seems like you’re trying to force me off the team. Or guilt me off.”
His gaze softens. “Jackson, this isn’t personal.”
My dad won’t see it that way. If I quit the team, he’ll take it personally and that will come back on me. There is no way I’m quitting the team. I hate baseball, but I hate having my ass beat by my dad even more. If Coach wants me off the team, he’s going to have to kick me off. Dad will still make me pay for failing, but it might be less vicious than if I actually quit. He’d take that as a personal affront.
“I’m not quitting,” I say through gritted teeth.
His eyes flicker. “Okay. If you want to keep your spot, I’m fine with that.”
I know he’s puzzled by why a kid who hates baseball insists on playing. But I can’t explain my motivation to him, so he’s just going to have to accept I’m here to stay. “Can I go?” I ask gruffly.
He hesitates. “If you ever need to talk, I’m here. I hope you know that.”
I flick my wary gaze to his. Why is he saying that? Does he suspect something is going on at home? Intuitive bastard. “Sure. If I need to talk, I’ll come to you.”
In other words, drop it.
I leave him and head for the showers. Now I’m even more self-conscious about my bruises. Has coach seen something? Did someone tell him I sometimes have mysterious marks on my body? Why can’t people just mind their own business? If I needed their help I’d ask for it.
I decide not to shower. Coach has me skittish now, and I just want to get home. I need to tell dad to watch where he hits me. He has to be less reckless, or we’re both going to end up in deep shit. Dad is worse around the holidays. I’m not naive enough to think it’s because he misses Mom. I know that’s not it. Maybe he resents that he’s getting older. Who knows. I have no clue why he gets worse around Christmas, but I’m used to it.
My conversation with Coach has me feeling uneasy. But then I think about Adalee, and I feel better. I want to see her today. I hope she wants to see me too. I think she might because she seemed very affectionate when we said goodbye yesterday. I’ve never slept with a girl and needed to see them again so soon. Maybe I wanted to fuck them again, but I didn’t care if I spent any actual time with them. I want to spend time with Adalee.
What is it about her that’s different? I don’t really know, but I felt a spark the minute I saw her. I mistook that spark for dislike, but now I think maybe it was attraction all along. I can’t get enough of her.
When I get home, I shower there. Dad is home, and once I’m dressed, I decide to have a talk. My stomach churns as I make my way to his office. He’s not gonna like what I have to say, but he needs to hear it unless he wants to end up in jail. I knock on his door, and enter when he gives me his gruff permission.
“Yes?” His gaze is disinterested. He rifles through some papers as he waits for me to speak.
I clear my throat. “Coach asked me today if I wanted to quit the team.”
He looks up quickly, his expression angry. “Excuse me?”
“He wanted to know if I wanted to quit.”
He stands, resting his palms on the desk. “Where the hell does he get off asking you something like that?”
“I guess he has a sixth sense or something. He knows I’m not in love with baseball.”
He comes around the desk, his shoulders bunched. My pulse picks up at the obvious anger in his eyes. I don’t back away, but I’m tempted to. “Maybe you could try showing a little enthusiasm.”
“I play hard. I can’t help it if I don’t love the sport.” I bust my ass to win games. There’s not much else I can give.
“You quit that team, and you can pack your bags and get out of this house.”
He says shit like that all the time, but the truth is I’m underage. He can’t just kick me out without getting in trouble. “I’m only telling you this so you can be more careful.”
He narrows his eyes. “More careful?”
My face warms. “Yeah. When you show… displeasure… with me, maybe you could be more strategic in how you show it.”
He pushes his tongue into his cheek, and his face seems flushed. “What did you do, Palmer? Did you whine to him about how I hurt you?”
I scowl. “No I didn’t whine. I’m trying to tell you he’s smart. Intuitive. You need to be careful.”
“Oh, really?” he growls.
His breath stinks of alcohol and I’m beginning to regret approaching him. I hadn’t expected him to be toasted this early in the day on a Sunday.
“Yes.”
“Why is that?” he snarls.
“Unless you want Child Services to get involved. Coach is the type who would call them.” I hold his furious gaze without flinching.
“You’re not a child.”
“I am legally. I’m a minor.” I’m not sure what his point is since he’s been pounding on me since I was fifteen. I try to defuse the situation. “Look, all I’m trying to say is maybe be careful how you… discipline me. Coach is paying attention.”
He scowls, but he moves back to his desk. “Whatever. That prick should mind his own business.”
I’m surprised he backed off. Surprised and relieved. I thought for sure he was going to come at me, but he’s decided to sit back down at his desk instead. I feel a sense of power that he didn’t attack. I stood up to him, and he let it go. It must be the fear of Coach turning him in. I can’t think of any other reason he’d have backed off.
I leave the room and head to the front door. I want to see Adalee. I’ll text her and see if she wants to get together. I’ll use the excuse of tutoring just so my pride is safe. I get in my car, and I text her.
Want to get together today? You should go over some math before Wednesday.
I see little dots dancing right away indicating she’s answering.
Sure. ☺ What time?
Now? I’ll pick you up and we can go to Starbucks. My heart pounds waiting for her response.
Give me ten minutes.
Gonna get all purty for me?
LOL. I need to put on clothes.
See you in ten. I start the car, feeling breathless. What is this power Adalee has over me? I feel like a sap because I can’t wait to see her and look into her pretty blue eyes.
When I pull up in front of her aunt’s house, she comes out to the car with a big grin. My heart squeezes with emotion as she climbs in the car. She’s wearing a white blouse, plaid skirt, and her legs are bare. Her perfume fills my nostrils, and when she leans over, I kiss her soft lips. It’s unreal to me that this girl I’ve only known for three weeks has taken control of my heart.
But she ha
s. When I first met Adalee I wanted to crush her and put her in her place. But now, her laughter is like music and her smile makes me believe that life can be good, even if it isn’t perfect.
“I thought I was on my own studying for my math final.” She sighs, and looks out the window. “I was so relieved when you texted me.”
Relieved. I’d have preferred happy.
She glances over at me. “I thought you had practice and couldn’t help me?”
I lift one shoulder. “I told you I’d fit you in. Besides, I already practiced today. During the week might be harder because practice is after school.”
“Ahhh. I see.”
We ride in silence for a bit, then I ask, “How are you today?” I’m sure she knows what I’m really asking is, does she have any regrets?
Her smile is reassuring. “I’m fantastic. Maybe I’ll fail my math final, but I can’t seem to care because I’m so happy.”
I’m relieved at her response. “You’re not going to fail. I’m going to drill you until you can’t take it anymore.”
She smirks. “I like the sound of that.”
I laugh. “#dirtyinnuendo.”
“Yep. I learned from the best.”
I pull into the parking lot of Starbucks, and we get out. I grab a backpack from the backseat that has books and a calculator. We walk into the coffee house and snag a small table near the window. I go up to buy us some coffee and Adalee spreads out some papers while she waits. When I return to her, I sit beside her. Her thigh presses mine, and her now familiar cologne makes my pulse speed up.
There are a couple of kids from Harbor Academy a few chairs over. They shoot us curious looks, but I don’t care. I’m sure there wondering why I’m hanging out with Adalee. They’re just going to have to get used to the fact that I like being around her. If Adalee will have me, I intend to monopolize all her time. I don’t want any other guys sneaking in and taking her away. I’ve decided she’s mine. From the warm looks she gives me, I think she’ll be okay with that.
When the barista calls out our order, I go get our pumpkin lattes. Adalee likes the whip cream from her lips, giving a contented sigh. I can’t help but smile at her. She just makes me happy. I haven’t felt like this in years. I remember these contented emotions from when Mom was alive. She was really the only other person, besides Rudy, that I could just hang out with for hours and not be bored. Adalee never bores me.
I quiz Adalee on certain problems I know will be on the test. She’s grasping the concepts better now, and I actually think she has a shot at passing her final. I don’t want to get her hopes up just in case. But she’s definitely catching on. She’ll never be a math whiz, but she doesn’t need to be. She just needs to pass this math class for now.
“I can’t believe this is almost making sense to me.” She grins. “You’re such a good teacher.”
“I like tutoring. It makes me feel useful.” I grimace because that’s not really something I’d usually admit.
“What do you plan on for a career?” Her gaze is intent.
“My dad hopes I’ll play ball professionally.”
“You don’t sound very enthusiastic,” she says softly.
I shrug. “That’s probably because I’m not.”
“Have you ever thought about being a teacher?”
I laugh. “My dad would never approve of any career so mundane.”
She frowns. “Teachers are amazing. Why would he disapprove?”
I sipped my drink so that I can stall answering her. I set my cup down and meet her curious gaze. “My dad expects me to either play professional ball, or work for him. The Jacksons aren’t allowed to have regular jobs. Whatever we do, it has to be big. I either need to be a famous baseball player, or filthy rich CEO of my dad’s company.”
“Seriously?”
I nod. “Yep.” I can see from her expression she disapproves. But she doesn’t understand the world I come from. I’d like to keep it that way.
“You should be allowed to do what makes you happy.”
“I wish.” I don’t want her feeling sorry for me, so I direct her attention back to the math. I have a few years before I have to worry about my future career.
“I plan on doing something in the art field.” She chews her bottom lip. “You’re very good at art too.”
My face warms. “Thanks.”
“I mean it. I’m not just saying that.” She touches my hands.
I love the feel of her warm skin on mine. “I like art.” I look around uneasily. “Don’t spread that around.”
She laughs as if she thinks I’m kidding. Then she sees I’m not and she frowns. “Are you not allowed to like art?”
“I don’t want people thinking I’m soft.”
She wrinkles her brow. “Do you think Leonardo da Vinci was a wuss?”
“No. But I’m no Leonardo da Vinci.” I grin.
She laughs grudgingly. “You can be who you want to be, Palmer. It’s your life.”
If only it were that easy.
“I don’t know that that’s true, Adalee.” I avoid her gaze.
“I get the feeling your father is very controlling.” She leans toward me, her expression concerned.
It feels nice that she cares, but I don’t want her to think she needs to rescue me. I’ll figure it out when the time comes. Maybe by then I’ll be braver. I’d love to think I could make my future what I wanted it to be. When I look at Adalee, she makes me want to try for things. For a long time now, I’ve just done whatever made Dad happy. Maybe the longer I’m around Adalee the more I’ll believe I have choices.
“Dad has definite opinions about my future,” I say softly.
Her fingers play over my skin distractedly. It’s hard to ignore how nice it feels when she touches me. I want to drag her back to my home and my bed. But I don’t want her anywhere near Dad. He’s toxic.
“Do you depend on his money?” Her gaze is searching.
“I do, until I’m eighteen. Then my trust fund kicks in.” I live for the day I’m independent financially. I get tired of my dad’s threats. But even if he cut me off, my trust fund will save me in six months.
She smiles. “I say, when you turn eighteen, you stop worrying so much about what your dad thinks.”
I’ve lived under his thumb for so long, the thought of that makes me uneasy. What would life be like if I made my own decisions? “Maybe by then I’ll have grown some balls.” I laugh gruffly.
“You already have a very nice pair.” She gives a flirtatious smile. “I’ve seen them firsthand.”
“Yes you have.” My dick warms at the look in her eyes.
She licks her lower lip. “Maybe when we’re done here, you could give me another peek.”
I grin, although I know we can’t go back to my place. “Are your aunt and uncle home?”
She pouts. “No, but Luke is.”
“My dad’s home.” I grimace. “I’m sure you remember how charming he was.”
Wincing, she says, “He was intense.”
I laugh. “That’s a nice way to put it.”
“I was really hoping we could… you know… spend a little alone time.” Her cheeks are pink, but her eyes glitter with need.
I’m not about to fuck her in the back of my car. I’ve done that before with girls, but that seems too seedy for Adalee. “We might need to be patient.” I don’t want to be patient, and my body aches with the desire to take her again.
Her gaze flicks toward the rest room. “Do you have a condom on you?” she whispers.
Is she suggesting what I think she’s suggesting? Excitement ramps in my gut, but I’m not sure I feel right about fucking her in a public bathroom. The shop isn’t too busy, and we might be able to get away with it, but Adalee deserves silk sheets and romancing. Not a hot fast fuck in the bathroom of Starbucks. Of course, even as I make excuses, my dick hardens with anticipation.
“I do.” I’ve always kept at least one condom in my wallet since I hit puberty. I’m r
eally happy about that horny decision right now.
“It could be like the closet at the Christmas party. Only better.” She looks exhilarated, face flushed and her lips parted. “Only this time we can go all the way.”
I’m astonished and pleased at her willingness to be daring. She has me so turned on I don’t have it in me to refuse. The biggest issue I have now is walking across the shop with my erection. Anyone who pays attention won’t be able to miss my massive boner.
“You really want to do this?” I ask.
She nods. “Oh, yeah.” Her nipples are pricked against the thin material of her blouse. I can’t wait to get my mouth on them again.
“You go in first,” I say quietly. “I’ll join you in a second.”
“Yeah?” Her eyes glitter with arousal and she’s breathless. She doesn’t even hesitate; she stands up quickly, bumping the table and almost spilling our drinks. She heads to the bathroom and she closes the door behind her.
My heart bangs my ribs as I scan the table. She took her purse, and all that is left on the table are books and my calculator. At a chance to fuck Adalee right now, having my calculator stolen seems worth it. I wait a few seconds, and then I stand and casually follow her down the hall to the bathroom. There are two bathrooms, so hopefully we won’t be disturbed.
I knock on the door, and she opens it. She gives me a conspiratorial smile, and I slip into the small room. The bathroom is messy with paper towels on the floor, and there are no seat covers. But since I’m not here to use the bathroom, I focus on her.
Her breath comes in quick pants as I approach her. I lift her up so her ass is on the edge of the sink, and I kiss her. She moans into my mouth and tugs me closer, wrapping her legs around me. I slip my hand under her skirt and realize she’s not wearing underwear.
Fuck. I think I love this girl.
She’s already wet when I slide my finger along the lips of her pussy. She sighs and rolls her hips, putting her arms around my neck. With one hand I squeeze her tits, and the other I finger her clit. She hisses and thrusts against me, as if she can’t wait. My cock is painfully constricted inside my jeans. When she unzips my jeans and pushes my fly open, I groan with relief. My dick is poking out of my briefs, throbbing and ready for action.
