Bottom Of The Ninth: Bad Boys Redemption: Book Three

by Readnour, Kimberly

  “My mom called when I was at the restaurant. She was so upset. I left the next morning.” Her voice drops. “I only went back to collect my items. You were already graduated when I tried going back the next semester.”

  I squeeze her harder against my chest and kiss the top of her head. It isn’t possible to feel any lower than I feel right now. I can’t believe her mom called while I stood her up. “I could never make it up to you, what I did.”

  “I understand, now. We both had issues going on, apparently.”

  “You had a lot to deal with, babe. No wonder you’re not a fan of Christmas.”

  “Yeah. It was rough, but things are better now.”

  “Have you thought about going back to school?”

  “I’ve thought about it, but I can’t really afford it. Drake has offered to help, but he doesn’t make that much money, yet.”

  He will after this year when they offer him a contract. The guy has talent—part of the reason my job is on the line—and he’ll be rewarded for it.

  “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” She wiggles loose from my arms and turns to face me.

  “No? What would you rather talk about?”

  “Talking is overrated.”

  “Agreed.” As our lips collide, I concentrate on nothing but her. I’ll worry about the trade deal and about getting home tomorrow. Right now, I have the best girl in my arms, and I’m going to make damn sure she knows it.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  MIA

  Current Day

  “Sign me up.” Nala puffs out a breath as Mr. Firecracker, aka Jax Carrigan, stares back at us from the monitor. “Paints a whole other picture for Uncle Sam.”

  “He is rather hunky.” I hold back the snort. There’s no denying AJ’s roommate is one of the better-looking guys on the team. He and Zach Pritchett make me want to become a lifelong Phillies fan. But the sexiest of them all may not be a member too much longer. I swallow down the bitter taste that thought causes.

  “I’d have no qualms joining the Army if the recruiters looked that damn good.”

  “You’d last as long as me—one day,” I say, laughing. Nala’s like me—petite with heaps of energy. Our small frame wouldn’t hold us back. Nope, it’s the lack of exercise. Neither one of us could be called fit—not Army fit, anyway.

  “That hurts, Mia.” She places her hand over her heart. Her fake pout has me shaking my head.

  “Would some wine therapy help?” It’s three in the afternoon, but this special occasion calls for something stronger than my go-to cucumber-infused water.

  “Now you’re talking.”

  I push away from the desk and stand. When AJ brought me back home from Vermont a few days ago, I recruited Nala’s help. The calendar is done for the most part, but a second opinion and a sharp eye are critical in the final editing process.

  “I can’t believe you put up a tree this year. When did you get it?” She nudges her head toward the lopsided anomaly.

  “Four days ago.” I set the wine glasses down on the computer desk. Without AJ’s help, I don’t know how I would’ve gotten it into my apartment.

  “And that’s the best one they had?”

  I take in the uneven branches. The way the tree leans to the right. Mom’s words replay in my head. The flaws are what makes the spirit.

  The corners of my mouth lift. AJ’s far from perfect, but he has the most generous heart. Ever since seeing me again, he’s acted broody, until a few nights ago. A glimpse of his true self came out—the carefree and laid-back side. That’s the AJ I remember and see whenever he’s out with his friends. But AJ’s also complex and revealed yet another piece of himself. One that’s passionate and caring. His genuine concern for his sister’s safety and mom’s peace of mind is enough to make a girl’s ovaries explode. He may come across as a cocky bastard, but he makes up for it in spirit.

  “No. It’s perfect,” I finally say.

  “You need some decorations.”

  Sadness clouds my thoughts. This is why I’ve refused to put up a tree since the fire. The memories are too painful.

  “I haven’t had time to go shopping.” Being stranded with the brooding, walking contradiction slowed me down. That thought causes another wave of flutters. “I’ll go shopping sometime.”

  After pouring us a glass of wine, I settle into the chair beside Nala and place the bottle within reach. I’ll need it. This storm of nerves brewing inside me calls for more than one glass.

  “Nothing’s better than sipping alcohol while gawking at hot men,” Nala says as she studies each layout.

  “Amen, sister.”

  She continues to scroll through each photo until she lands on Drake.

  “Your brother is such a goof.”

  “Don’t I know it.”

  He stares at us with the most debonair smile. It’s a cross between sexy and childish. Others may find it charming, but all I see is an immature sibling. Nala’s sigh causes me to glance over at her. I cringe. She’s totally stargazing. I open my mouth to tell her to stop lusting after my little brother, but her lips part, and her tongue glides across the upper half. Ew…I just can’t. I take a large gulp of wine. Maybe this is a three-glass day?

  “These photos turned out great. We’re going to raise a boatload of cash.”

  Helping St. Claire Children’s Cancer Research Hospital is the reason I endured seeing AJ after strategically avoiding him ever since Drake signed with his team. And look what happened. After spending one night with the man, my willpower crumbled faster than my mom’s overbaked cookies.

  “Thanks for helping. I couldn’t have done all this without you.”

  “Sure, you could’ve. It just would’ve been harder.”

  She clicks on the last photo, and there he is, Mr. December. Heat bundles inside as those deep brown orbs stare back at me.

  “Whoa,” Nala says, her voice lower. “It’s like he’s staring right at me with sex eyes.”

  “Sex eyes?” I take another sip. I know firsthand what she means because those “sex eyes” stared right into my soul as he drove into me two short nights ago.

  “You know, the look that melts your panties right off.”

  “Yeah, I know the look.” Quite familiar with it, actually

  “He’s just so…sexy. He actually made that ridiculous outfit look good. Damn, I thought Will Ferrell made a cute elf, but he’s nothing compared to AJ.”

  I almost spill my drink. No offense to the most memorable elf of all time, but come on. There’s no comparison.

  “Will Ferrell is cute in an adorkable way.”

  “But not like this. Shit.” She takes a long sip, staring at the monitor over the rim of the glass a bit too hard. “You really captured his image well.”

  Too well. Those pupils stare right at me all hot and sultry. Yeah, complete sex eyes.

  “And you were stuck with him for two days? Alone?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Lucky bitch. Please tell me you fucked his brains out.”

  “Nala!” My cheeks grow warm which I try to pawn off as being offended. Her eyes widen, and her mouth turns into that perfect O. Of course, she sees through me.

  “You did, didn’t you?”

  I take a sip of wine, refusing to answer.

  “You lucky bitch. I knew there were still sparks between you two.” Her voice pitches lower. “You have to tell me. Is he as good as he looks?”

  Nala never holds back. She may be a little crude, but that’s what I love about her—brutal honesty.

  “Only the best sex I’ve ever had.” I laugh as she shoves my arm.

  “Damn girl, I’m so jealous.” She leans back in her chair and stares at me as if I’m some rock star. “So, you forgave him?”

  I squirm in my seat, not used to being interrogated. Besides being direct, she’s also observant. A few days after the calendar shoot, she demanded to know AJ and my history. She knows all the details except his side of the story. I quickly catc
h her up.

  “He thinks way too highly of me. And after hearing his explanation, I have a better understanding. He could’ve handled it better though.” A few lingering questions remain, like why he was getting drunk while I sat and waited for him. I keep that concern to myself. It doesn’t matter at this point. “But, I forgive him.”

  “Are you going to see him again?”

  “Is it bad that I don’t know? He said he’ll call, but he hasn’t yet.” I don’t want to admit how disappointed that makes me feel. “Even if he does call, there’s nothing serious between us.”

  “You sure about that? You have that dreamy look on your face.”

  “I do not. Any ‘look’ is just the afterglow of good sex.”

  “Fuck, girl. It definitely agrees with you.” She laughs. “Are you sure you don’t want more?”

  No. Yes. I don’t know. Even though I do want to see him again, reality screams loud and clear. The probability of him staying in Philly is zero to none. I hate that, every time we start talking, a deadline looms in the not so far distance. I also hate the reason for his departure is my brother. But him leaving is for the best. I don’t want to fall for him. He’s completely wrong for me. I just wouldn’t mind having some fun a little longer.

  “Nah, we’re just having fun.”

  We turn back to the monitor, cock our heads to the right, and let out a collective sigh.

  “Let’s get these finishing touches done. We need to send the finalized file off to the printers if we’re going to have any sales for Christmas,” I say.

  Nala double-checks the formatting while I pour another glass of wine. A few minutes pass, and she smiles triumphantly.

  “Done!”

  My phone interrupts our cheer. I let out a breath when AJ’s name flashes across my screen.

  “Somebody likes him more than they want to admit,” she singsongs.

  “Puh-leez.” Swiping the phone off the desk, I scurry to the kitchen. By the onslaught of flutters in my stomach, she’s right, but there’s no time to ponder about it. I have a phone call to answer.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  AJ

  Current Day

  “As the baseball’s winter meetings get underway next week, one of the hot topics will be the fate of AJ Gonzalez. The question still remains whether the Phillies will let their World Series catcher go.”

  “They have the hot bat of Drake Gunner to fill his place. Although there’s plenty of pop left in AJ’s bat, the fact remains, you can’t bench Drake’s talents…”

  “Fucking garbage.” I click the television off and toss the remote beside me. Slumping farther into the couch cushion, I close my eyes and rub my hands down my face. My self-inflicted pity-party only lasts a second when my cell buzzes, my agent’s name flashing like a bold trigger warning. Big surprise.

  “It looks like a deal will be made with L.A.,” Bob says bluntly. A matter-of-fact businessman, he never softens the blow. Not that I need it. My ego certainly isn’t fragile. No special snowflakes around here. No way. These rushes of quivers racing through my insides mean nothing more than excitement. It’s definitely not, because I don’t want to leave the Phillies. I’m indifferent.

  The Dodgers. In truth, Los Angeles isn’t a bad option. I love the area. Miss it even, but my family is here—along with a little spitfire I had the privilege of being holed up with a couple of days ago.

  Shit, I don’t want to go.

  For the past two years, I caught just under three hundred games, plus I led us to the World Series. Why am I on the chopping block?

  “I can try to—”

  “No.” I must’ve taken too long to answer because my agent’s backpedaling. That can only mean he thinks I’m unhappy. Shocking surprise. It turns out I am. “It’s my own fault for not putting in the no-trade clause at the beginning of my contract.”

  “Nothing’s finalized yet.” A beat of awkward silence passes between us because we both know my inevitable fate. “I’ll call when I know the details.”

  Fuck! I slam the phone next to the remote. An urge to hit something surges through me, and it’s all I can do to not destroy my television. Fucking sports newscasters and their fucking speculation. What the fuck do they know? Everything, my subconscious screams back. Fuck, even I knew this trade deal was coming. The airwaves buzzed with speculation as soon as the last out was made during the World Series. Coach McFay had all but warned me, but it still pisses me off.

  I glance around the apartment, my gaze landing on the Christmas tree. My mind recaptures Mia trying to lift her pathetic excuse of a tree to the top of her car, and I can’t stop the chuckle. God, that girl is so fucking cute. I flinch. How many times have I mentioned the word fuck since sitting here? Damn, she’s right. I do curse a lot.

  And that makes me chuckle even more. She’s so determined. A trait I find rather sexy. Or maybe I just find her sexy since I saw her naked in fifty various positions less than seventy-two hours.

  Damn, I need to see her again. Or at least talk.

  I feel like an ass. It’s been two days since dropping Mia home, and I haven’t once picked the phone up to call her. Day one is excusable; I focused on my sister. I wanted to punch the shit out of Drake, but Mia talked me down from that rage. She had a valid point. Cara willingly left with him and lied to not only Mom but to me as well. She should have her ass kicked too—my words, not Mia’s. No way would that ever happen, but Cara received one long ass-chewing which ended in her apology. I’m sure it’s sincere—not. No matter what I said pales in comparison to Mom’s lecture. I guarantee she won’t be pulling a stunt like that in a long time.

  It peeves me that Drake took advantage of her. She’s barely of age, a fact I let him know real quick. I may not have beat him down, but I left him nearly pissing his pants. If he hadn’t been Mia’s brother… God, Mia.

  My stomach churns. Not calling on day two is just inexcusable, plain and simple. Despite the fact she’s still too sweet and good for me, I should’ve called. I can list all sorts of reasons—like the big question mark about my future—but it comes down to my cowardliness. The fear of her turning me away has me reaching for the broken pot-turned-crown and walking down the corridor in search of some courage. She deserves better, and starting something now wouldn’t be fair to her, but damn, we’re good together. Would it be a crime to enjoy what little time we have left? I run my hands through my hair and grunt in frustration.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?” Jax asks.

  I drop my hands on my knees and look over at my stealth roommate. He’s holding two lunch sacks, and by the hint of cinnamon, my guess would be cinnamon-raisin bagels.

  “Sorry, didn’t hear you come in.”

  “I have extra bagels if you’re hungry.” He waltzes into the kitchen not commenting on my erratic behavior. I’m going to miss his ass when I leave.

  “I got a call from my agent.” I grab a napkin and pull up a chair. “Looks like we need to discuss what to do with the apartment.”

  “Shit.” He hands me the cinnamon butter. “Is it a done deal then?”

  “No, but I think it will be after the winter meetings.”

  “L.A.?”

  I nod and take a bite of the bagel—a cinnamon explosion for my senses. The only good thing about today. “Looks like it.”

  “I’ll take over the rent payments. I still need a place to stay during the season.”

  “Yeah. That’ll work.” I chew slowly, not feeling like eating anymore.

  Jax places his bagel down and stares at me. “What’s really going on? You haven’t been yourself since… Well, since the photo shoot. You were stuck together with Mia for two days. Surely, you two hashed out whatever the fuck is going on between you.”

  Mia’s creamy white skin underneath the palm of my hand comes to mind. “Yeah, we’re good.”

  “Then what’s the problem?”

  “I’ll be leaving.”

  “Yeah, but—”

  “I’l
l be leaving her.”

  He purses his lips and stares at me for a moment. “That’s rough, but I think you deserve to see where this goes. This girl obviously means something to you.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You’ve never been this broody over anyone. Zach and the girls are collecting information on how to stage an intervention.”

  “Zach, really?”

  “Okay, mainly the girls. They want their carefree and fun AJ back.”

  I spit out a humorless laugh. Carefree and fun. Shit, Mia has me twisted in knots without even trying. “Tell your women to stop their planning; I’m not that bad, yet.”

  “Take it from me. That special girl only comes around once in your life. You can always keep it casual and see where it leads.” He knocks on the table and stands. “The crash and burn outweighs the what-ifs any fucking day of the week.”

  He removes himself from the room, and I mull over his words. Keep it casual. Yeah, I can do casual. The timing’s off, and I risk leaving with another battered heart. But damn it, we’re so good together.

  Fuck the consequences. I need to see her.

  I stalk into the living room and swipe the phone off the couch. If I’m going to do this dating thing, then I’ll do it right. It’ll be nothing short of special. And platonic. I’ll prove there’s more between us than our sizzling chemistry. I can be casual. Zach mentioned this place he took his wife to, and it would be perfect for Mia. If I could pull it off, that is.

  A few phone calls and a couple favors later, everything is set. All that’s left to do now is convince my woman to go out with me.

  My woman? When had she become my woman? That’s not casual. Saying those words is like catching a wild pitch in a tied ballgame with the winning run on third—dangerous and potentially devastating. But at the same time, this date should be an evening for the stats.

  Chapter Twenty-Three