Bottom Of The Ninth: Bad Boys Redemption: Book Three

by Readnour, Kimberly

  “Whatever it takes to get you here.” He turns to Sadie and says, “Hi.”

  She shifts her gaze from me to AJ and tries to hold back a smile, failing epically. “Good game today.”

  “Thanks. The team played well.” He directs his attention back to me. “If I knew you were watching, I would’ve hit one out of the park for you.”

  And the magnetic trance he holds over me breaks.

  “Do most people believe that bullcrap?” I ask. He doesn’t need to answer. The half-smirk sliding into place suggests yes.

  “Usually, but I would’ve tried showing off for you.”

  “I think you did just fine without the theatrics. Going three for four with two RBIs isn’t bad. Not to mention your defensive performance.”

  His mouth parts and his eyes darken as his stare steals my breath. My knees wobble at my sudden dizziness.

  He grabs my arms, his large fingers wrapping around my flesh. The gentleness of his touch, the sureness in his strength, only serves to intensify our connection. It’s as if we’re in our own bubble and no one else exists. “Easy does it.”

  My eyes flick back to his, and I feel my resolve to stay away slip.

  After a beat, his raspy voice breaks the moment. “Go out with me.”

  I open my mouth to agree, but a frustrated gasp steals my attention. One of the girls still waiting for AJ stands there and scowls at us. Even though he ditched her to come talk to me, she’s still waiting for him. What am I doing?

  “Mia, go out with me.”

  I shake loose from his grip and find my balance. “No.”

  “A simple dinner. No expectations.”

  Damn, this would be easier if I didn’t feel the intensity of his stare clear to my toes. He’s looking at me as if I’m the only one who matters.

  “No,” I say and walk away.

  “Mia.” When I don’t stop, he repeats my name. “Mia, I’m going to get you to cave.”

  Damn, he’s persistent. I pivot to face him, and his long strides erase the distance I created.

  “Go out with me.”

  “No.”

  “Come on. You want to. I can see it in your eyes.”

  “The only thing you see is my baby blues.”

  “Nope. You’re trying to suppress your desire, but it still shines through.”

  There may be some truth to his statement, but I’ll never admit that to him.

  “Tell you what. You think of a unique, creative way to ask me out, and I’ll agree.”

  “Promise?” His grin turns devilish.

  I blow out a slow, steady stream of air, wondering how I got roped into agreeing. “Yes.”

  “Challenge accepted.”

  “AJ.” His groupies’ voices carry across the hallway. Right, we’re not alone. I turn to leave again, but his voice stops me in place.

  “Be outside your dorm at one o’clock Sunday.”

  I raise an eyebrow.

  “That’s our date.”

  “Pretty sure of yourself.” My flat tone causes him to smile.

  “I know exactly what to do.”

  Why am I not surprised?

  Chapter Seven

  MIA

  Eight Years Ago

  My Appreciation of Arts textbook lays open on my desk next to my sketch pad. Two valued possessions but neither one being much use to me. I’m way too antsy to enjoy anything.

  It’s Saturday afternoon, I shouldn’t be locked in my dorm like some hermit. I chew on the end of my pencil as I stare at the sketch pad. I should be out enjoying the day. Or maybe watching the home baseball game.

  Nope, I won’t allow my mind to go there. The last thing I need to do is fuel on AJ’s expectations. I haven’t heard from him since Tuesday’s game, so obviously tomorrow’s date isn’t going to happen.

  I need to paint. Painting relaxes me. Whenever I was upset back home, I would either reach for my racquetball racket and pound away my frustrations or reach for my paint brushes and let the therapeutic color wheel sweep away my worries. Too bad painting isn’t an option at the moment. My canvases and easel reside in the trunk of my car five blocks away. Not convenient when I’m in dire need, but given our limited living space, I conceded in only bringing in the necessities.

  My poor Toyota serves as an extra storage locker housing not only my larger art supplies but the gifts my dad had gotten me: ballerina slippers, an inspirational poster that I couldn’t bear to leave behind but couldn’t hang up either, and fishing tackle Dad collected throughout the years.

  My throat thickens, and I inhale a deep breath. If only I could think of Dad without the guilt. Maybe I should grab the racquetball equipment and check if a court is free? The knock at the door pulls me from my debate and the dark path my thoughts begin to enter.

  I hop from my chair, welcoming any type of interruption, but when I pull the door back, I’m more intrigued than puzzled by the odd display in front of me.

  “This is…different.” I grab the arrangement of cattails and fern leaves from the girl residing in the dorm room across the hall.

  “The front desk wanted me to bring this up. I thought it was unusual but extremely original.”

  My gaze meets the girl’s. She has no idea the special meaning her words holds, but there’s no denying the originality of the gift. After a beat, I say, “Thanks.”

  “Oh, here’s the card. Don’t want to forget the best part.”

  I snatch it from her hand and thank her once again. With my pulse beating faster than it should, I carry the vase over to my desk. It isn’t until I place it down when I notice the fishing lure hanging strategically in place. Wetness coats my eyes as I run my fingers across the hard, plastic minnow, being mindful of the hooks. “I’ll add you with the rest of the tackle.”

  I open the card, anxious to read AJ’s words. With my mouth agape, I stare at the note.

  Bring art supplies and waders.

  Meet outside your dorm, tomorrow at one p.m.

  My mind goes to today’s baseball game, and I can’t help but wonder how he’s playing. I’m sure he’s at the top of his performance. I glance at the cattails. He certainly is original and sweet. He’s making it harder and harder to resist. Should I let my guard down? I mean, I know he’ll be leaving at the end of this year—whatever happens will be temporary. But he’s only asking for one date. I certainly can handle one date, right?

  As my mind processes the pros and cons, I grab my sketch pad and charcoal pencils. The outline sketch may or may not be a certain baseball player with a heart he has yet to realize how big.

  Chapter Eight

  MIA

  Eight Years Ago

  I’m stoked. AJ’s gesture was beyond sweet—not to mention intriguing—and more than proves he’s worth the chance. That’s why I’ve decided to do something daring. I’ve pushed aside those nagging reservations, and by doing so, not even the California sun could lift my mood any higher. Although, it can enhance it. And as I step outside the residence hall and the warmth hits my face, it does just that. I love living here and will pick sunny California over Vermont winters any day of the week. There’s something to be said about the weather rejuvenating your spirits, but it’s not like I need the extra dose of adrenaline today. For once, I’m ready to let loose.

  And take a chance.

  Adjusting the bag on my shoulder, I scan the courtyard for the guy in question. My search is short. AJ stands twenty feet away, looking as if he stepped out of Shape magazine. Tattooed and muscular, he’s as close to perfection as this weather. His loose fitted athletic shorts reveal those muscular, tanned legs, but I can’t get past those arms. There should be warning signs posted that read “Caution: Arm Porn Ahead.” I swear every shirt he owns showcases his biceps. I’m not complaining, but how’s a girl supposed to keep her wits?

  He greets me with a smile as bright as the sun, and the same shot of adrenaline races through my body. How can his presence have this type of effect?

  “You came.�
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  The hint of surprise in his tone catches me off guard. “You say that as if you questioned it?”

  “Nah, I knew you couldn’t resist me.” He cocks his head and stares with a look that says he owns the world. Or owns me.

  “You are a cocky one, aren’t you?”

  His laugh should be a sign to stay away, but I don’t heed the warning. Instead, I stick to my resolve. I’ll see this through.

  “I thought you girls like strong, confident men.”

  “Confidence, yes; assholes, no. You know, fine line and all.”

  “Noted.” His lips twitch as the word comes out playfully. He nudges his chin toward the right. “You set?”

  “It depends. What are we doing?” His clues have been vague on what this Sunday afternoon entails. All I knew was to grab my art supplies and wear casual clothes. At least that’s what I took from his wader’s comment.

  “Not so fast. It’s a surprise.” A sparkle brightens those brown orbs as he gives me a once over. “You look nice.”

  I smooth out the frayed ends of my jean shorts. “I thought you meant casual, so…”

  “It’s perfect.”

  My gaze sweeps to his. The assertion in his voice and the intensity from his stare awaken every butterfly in the pit of my stomach. The word “thanks” hangs on the end of my tongue, but I can’t speak. What the heck? I don’t get nervous around guys. Ever. True, I haven’t liked too many, but there was one I crushed on back in high school. He was cute and popular. We ended up dating for a while, but even in the beginning, I never felt anxious—not like I do now.

  His lips part, and I hold my breath, trying hard not to imagine how they’d feel pressed against mine. But it’s too late. I let my guard down, and the thoughts implant in my mind. God, I hope he can’t read my thoughts.

  AJ’s eyes close, and he shakes his head. Whatever he was going to say or do is lost to the moment. He clears his throat. “I’m parked by your dorm. I assume your car is still parked off campus?”

  “Yeah, we have to go down Sheffield Avenue about five blocks to the public parking garage.”

  He offers to take my bag, and once I hand it over, we step forward.

  “Isn’t the monthly parking rate expensive?”

  “Yeah, but since they won’t give parking permits to freshman, I don’t have much choice. No way would I be this far from home without wheels of my own.”

  “Spoiled much?” His shoulders shake as he delivers the words, so I know he’s kidding.

  “Whatever, I won’t be without my car.” We approach a shiny black Camaro, and I let out a whistle. “Talk about being spoiled.”

  “Nah, it’s only a loaner.” He opens the passenger door for me and drops his voice to a teasing tone. “Unlike some people, I don’t have a car on campus.”

  “Technically, it’s not on campus.” I slide into the seat. “Trust me, it’s a long, boring drive from the East Coast to the West Coast.”

  “I can’t even imagine.” He shuts the door, and I face forward. I can’t imagine it either, because my mom paid for a car hauler. Perhaps I am spoiled.

  We arrive at the garage, and I direct him to the fourth level. “It’s the white Toyota Corolla by the stairwell.”

  He pulls beside my car, and I bolt out the passenger door before he slides the gear shift into park.

  “Just pop open the trunk, and I’ll transfer what I need over.”

  I hurry. No way do I want AJ seeing the mess I’ve created. My housekeeping skills are less than stellar when it comes to my car. But I should have known better when it comes to AJ. The slam of his door kills any hopes of keeping him at bay.

  “Seriously, I’ve got this.” I motion for him to get back in the car, but he shakes his head.

  “I’m not sitting in a car and watch you do all the work.”

  I bite my lip, my thumb hovering the trunk button on my key fob. Beneath his arrogant exterior lies a gentleman begging to surface. But does it have to be today? I eye my white sedan and take a deep breath, before pressing the button. Here goes nothing.

  The lid lifts, and I’m suddenly the girl from my childhood dreams. The one where I walk into a classroom with everyone staring and realize I’m naked. Except, it’s not my body exposed. It’s the last few months of my life.

  “What the hell is all this stuff?” AJ asks.

  “Memories.” I try to keep my tone lighthearted, but the emotions swirling inside are anything but. Another reason why my trunk is extra storage; the reminders hurt too much.

  AJ picks the ballerina slippers up and dangles them from his large fingers. His left eyebrow arches as a mischievous look overtakes his expression. “A ballerina, huh?”

  “I hold my own.”

  The sexiest moan escapes his mouth. “I heard some of those poses make having sex rather exciting.”

  I clear my throat to disguise my surprise from his directness. He’s right. The positions can be quite interesting, but I’m not going there with him. Not yet, anyway. I smack his arm playfully and try not to think about how great those muscles feel underneath my fingertips.

  “Maybe, but I’ll never tell.” Without pause, I point to the fishing tackle. “These lures here were my dad’s favorites. Sounds crazy to take them with me since the dorms are baby-sized, but I couldn’t leave them behind.”

  A beat passes before the dirtiest little smirk slides into place. He places the slippers back down, but there’s no mistaking his murmur. “I still want to see you in these.”

  “I reserve that image for people worthy enough.”

  “Fuck, you’re killing me.”

  “Okay, show me your surprise.”

  His eyebrow raises. “Oh, I have a surprise all right.”

  My face warms. At least his sense of humor is good for blocking the haunted memories. “I mean the one you’re taking me to.”

  He laughs. “But I like this surprise better.”

  I roll my eyes, pretending to be annoyed.

  Once we move the supplies from my trunk, AJ drives northeast from the city. It’s an area I’ve yet explored. With a full semester under my belt, I’ve only been to the beach. I have no regrets. I freaking love the ocean. The few paintings tucked in the tiny excuse of my dorm closet are my favorite works. I dubbed them closet-worthy. If the paintings are worth selling, they’re closet-worthy and stay with me. Otherwise, they get mailed back home to Mom.

  An hour later, the mountain range nears, but AJ veers onto a gravel road. He still refuses to tell me where we’re going, but he must be excited. He hasn’t stopped grinning since we left.

  A few twists and turns later, the sparkle from a body of water grabs my attention. I’m left speechless as he pulls into the designated parking area.

  “How did you know about this area?” I ask after finding my voice.

  “I did my research.”

  The confidence in his tone sends shivers down my spine. I glance at the pond through the windshield. Tall cattails surround the outer banks, and a tailspin of memories, good and bad, flood my mind. I try to suppress a smile but fail. And just like home, the mountains set off in the distance are surrounded by pine trees. “It’s breathtaking.”

  “Agreed.”

  The smoothness of his voice pulls my attention away from the landscaping and back to him. He leans over the console, a few inches away from my face. My heart skitters. His stare holds meaning, but I can’t decipher what. If only I could read his thoughts. A few intense breaths later, he blinks and backs away.

  “Come on. I’ll grab the equipment. You’ve wanted to paint for a while.”

  “How would you know that?” It’s true, but he wouldn’t have any clues about my desires. At least he shouldn’t.

  “Back at the library, I could see it in your eyes. When you sketched your dad” — he shrugs— “I just knew.”

  “You’d be right. I haven’t painted anything since last semester.”

  “We’ll change that.” He winks, and I’m a little t
aken back by CU’s star catcher paying attention to the tiny details. More importantly, my details.

  He sets my easel on the dock by the clearing. I must admit, he thought of everything: a blanket, snacks, cooler filled with drinks, and even lawn chairs, or in my case, a stool. It’s too surreal and unbelievable if I’m being honest.

  “Why are you doing this?” The words leave my mouth in a whisper, and I don’t expect him to answer.

  “You said to be original.”

  “Yeah, but…”

  “Our first date can’t be anything but extraordinary.” He pats my seat. “We’ll talk while you paint. Or are you the type of artist that needs to have utter silence to be creative?”

  “We can talk. I don’t have to ponder what to paint. The subject is drawn in front of me already.”

  The breeze blows my hair back as I step on the wooden planks. Ripples of water splash lazily against the sides, and a school of tadpoles scatters beneath. I place the canvas on the easel while AJ unfolds his lawn chair behind me.

  Once the acrylics are set, I take the two-inch brush and paint the entire canvas with a liquid white for my base. AJ settles into his seat.

  “Are you sure you’re not going to be bored to tears watching me?”

  “Nah.” He pulls out his notebook. “I’ll work on my essay. Trust me. There isn’t anywhere else I’d rather be.”

  Such a bullshitter. With a shake of my head, I position the plastic palette and tap the brush into the phthalo blue paint. The sky forms beneath my hand with each crisscross stroke.

  “So, you’re from Pennsylvania. What town?”

  “Jonesburg. It’s about an hour commute from Philadelphia.”

  “Any brothers or sisters?”

  “One sister, Cara.”

  Brush in hand, I pause and glance behind my shoulder. The soft expression covering AJ’s face is as mesmerizing as the scenic pond.

  “She’s younger. Full of spunk. You?”

  “I have a brother and a sister. Both younger.” I go back to cutting in the mountain range. “My mom’s a trooper. My sister…keeps her busy. After Dad’s death, my brother isn’t handling things well. He’s a talented catcher like you.”