Strike: Bases Series (Book Two)

by Grace, Hazel

  “How about you both not worry about it,” I interject. “My money is just as good as both of yours. And I’ll be fine.” They both stay silent, reclining back in their chairs.

  I just want to get Gavin out and get the hell out of here.

  After an hour of Colson tapping his foot, Ben sighing in exasperation, and my biting down my fingernails, Gavin is released with Ben and Colson’s bank accounts are two hundred dollars less than before. Colson fixed me with a heated glare when I pulled my small wallet out of my back pocket, and Ben told me to go wait for Gavin by the door.

  When Gavin finally does appear, my heart lifts when his eyes land on me first and opens his arms for me to go into.

  “Hey babe,” he greets with a boyish smile. I slip into his arms, and he wraps them around me. “Did you miss me?”

  “Don’t do that again,” I murmur into his chest. He gives me a squeeze and rests his chin on the top of my head.

  “Didn’t sign up to date a jailbird, eh?” he chuckles. I compress my arms around him but don’t respond. I didn’t sign up for a lot of things when it came to dating him.

  It’s been a combination of the best and worst time of my life.

  Cherished in his presence but hated by his best friend, everyone seems to have an interest in Gavin. It was as though the whole school knew what was best for him, and I was the imposter messing things up. As though he was arranged to live out a dream that everyone set forth for him to do.

  I wasn’t part of that plan.

  Gavin steps away and gives me a soft kiss, tasting of beer, completely calm and collected. Wrapping his arm around my middle, he walks us over to the guys, telling them he wants to hit the road because he’s exhausted.

  Colson gives him a dirty look, Ben rolls his eyes, and I hold on to him tightly.

  I feel awkward around all three of them now. As though there was some hidden secret that I wasn’t privy to and my name has been a topic of conversation before. Ben seems to like me, I think. He always smiles at me and rustles my hair sometimes just to fuss around. But the tension is thick, Ben adding a factor to the already pending tautness between Colson and Gavin.

  About me.

  When we get into the truck, I’m squeezed in between Colson and Gavin, my thigh brushes Colson’s every time we hit a bump. I try to inch closer to Gavin, but I feel like a sardine in a tin can between two guys who don’t bother giving a girl some space.

  “I owe you both, man,” Gavin quips, changing the radio station. “Thanks for the bailout.”

  “Next time just lower the music,” Colson grounds out, keeping his eyes on the dark road.

  Gavin chuckles. “Yeah, man, I got it. But we won’t have much time to party, right? We got scouts to win over, and I gotta cut down on the drinking.”

  “And two hundred to pay back,” Ben quips.

  “I got you both,” Gavin surmises. “Sorry, Sawyer, I won’t be around much to work off this new debt I’ve acquired.”

  “It’s alright,” I quickly recite. “I’m just happy you’re out. Thanks, again, you guys.”

  “Sure thing,” Ben says on the other side of the truck, then the space fills with silence again.

  I think I’m the only one who can sense Colson’s irritation because the guys are calm and collected while I think I’m about to finally get my head snapped off by Colson. He’s probably aggravated that he had to fork out money and make a trip to pick up Gavin.

  And the answer to his question.

  Colson should be, I don’t know, happy? I didn’t jump for joy and throw confetti in the air when I said it. I was being what he asked, honest, and if he wanted more than that, well...I couldn’t help him.

  But I was thankful for him tonight.

  He rescued me from the cops so I didn’t have to have a very strained and uncomfortable conversation with my parents. He didn’t dare me to kiss him, and he just bailed my boyfriend out of jail.

  Mindlessly, I let my hand fall onto his upper thigh, feeling him flinch under my touch. It’s inappropriate, I shouldn’t be touching him, but I want him to know that I appreciate him. That it doesn’t go unnoticed by me, not that it even matters.

  I was raised to be respectful to others and polite. Mom’s lessons are still embedded in my psyche, and although Colson doesn’t always deserve it, I’m still going to be the bigger person.

  I begin to slide my hand away, but he clasps his fingers around mine. The rough skin of his palm sends chills prickling at my arm. He gives me a small squeeze, and my chest warms. I want to turn my hand around to lace my fingers with his and immediately berate myself.

  This. Isn’t. Me.

  The rush Colson gives me is addicting, something I crave like a person on a bad high. I don’t know what he feels, just how he makes me react. He suggests that I’m an idiot, a nuisance, someone that needs to just go away. And still, I bask in his attention. The way his brown eyes glaze over my face, burrowing into me, making my whole body heat in response to his.

  I’m starving for something I can’t give myself to, and that scares me half to death.

  Curiosity wins over my rational side as we sit next to each other, toying with time and getting caught. I want to see how long he’ll hold my hand when Gavin is mere inches from us. I’m teeter-tottering on the dangerous side of the fence, knowing full well that I’m pushing a limit. I’m sending the wrong message and thirsty for something that isn’t good for me.

  Yet, it feels good.

  It feels mutinous and bad.

  And Colson knows it.

  Like a shark that can smell blood, he can read me like a pitch coming down to home plate. His index finger skims the top of my hand, tracing up my same finger, causing a thrill to shoot down between my legs. The ones that are crossed and pressed against Gavin’s.

  My boyfriend.

  The one who has done nothing but care for me. The one who blames Colson for the rumors made about him making out with other girls. The culprit in everything that has made my senior year unenjoyable.

  Colson lays his palm along the top of my hand and threads his fingers between mine. I keep my focus straight ahead on the road, trying to center my breathing and sing “In This Diary” by The Ataris on the radio in my head.

  Anything to give my mind something else to do other than notice that Colson just tucked our hands in between us, hidden from Gavin and Ben. Secluded from the world, from all the people who hate me and believe the gossip that I’m stringing both Gavin and Colson along.

  Tearing two best friends away from each other because I’m devious behind a sweet mask.

  And now I’m starting to make the rumors true.

  My judgment is clouding, flipping toward rebelling and wanting. Colson is on my mind more lately than he should be. His eyes make me liquify and dissolve to the floor. And the fact that Colson doesn’t want to let me go does things it shouldn’t. I shouldn’t be thinking this way. I shouldn’t want to hold his hand.

  I shouldn’t want Colson Hayes.

  He will destroy me.

  While Gavin would always keep me safe.

  Present day

  The crowd cheers in the stands as Frankie, our third baseman, hits a home run over the fence, scoring in two runs, including his own. He rounds the bases, high fiving our teammates as he comes into the dugout. He comes up to me, all smiles, holding up his hand to give me a high five too. And I do, learning how to play well with others or I’d be a shitty coach to my own team.

  “Good job, man,” I tell him with a grin. “You’re kicking ass out there.”

  “Thanks, brother, I’m trying. Can’t run those bases like I used to, though.”

  I slap him on the shoulder. “You’re doing good.” Especially for a guy pushing fifty. He gives me a nod and saunters into the dugout, cracking open a beer for his efforts on the field.

  Ben calls out Myles’ name and tells him he’s up next in the batting order. I haven’t dared to search the field for Sawyer, but I know he didn’t come with her
. I push back any thoughts of them being broken up, keeping hope out of the equation.

  She can be dating whomever she wants, the end game will still be the fucking same.

  It’s been a week since we talked last when she told me she was tutoring Jace. And honestly, not running into her every five seconds, it was the first time I’ve been able to breathe. Able to focus on what I needed to do, coach the team, and get into the new house I was buying. Sawyer had her new assistant, Bobbie, texting me with updates on the buyer’s of my mom’s house, and I found it humorous that she hired a guy as her new right hand.

  Sawyer is avoiding me and it’s working out in my favor. Mind you, I still want to screw the living shit out of her but, damn, a man needs to recoup after watching her make herself come.

  We win the game, beer flies all over the dugout in celebration like we’ve won the World Series, but it’s only the third game of the season. It’s a big deal for the guys, who work to put food on the table for their families, to be able to blow off some steam and have fun reliving their glory days. Every single one of them are good guys, except good ‘ole Myles, who barely associates with anyone. He’s too busy on his phone, typing away at someone for fuck knows what.

  But when Sawyer walks into the dugout, he immediately stops and stands to greet her. He leans down to kiss her, but she turns her cheek, which colors me all sorts of intrigued. They hug each other for a while, and she waits at the end of the dugout for him to grab his gear, before they take off. Not once does she look at me, but I never tore my eyes off her.

  As always, the team and I head up to the bar for greasy food and drinks. Myles and Sawyer already have the table saved, which fucking irritates me because all I want to do is just get a little fucked up and go home.

  What I don’t want to do is sit here stealing glances at her in a pale pink dress that Vs into the valley of her breasts.

  When the waitress comes over to take our order, I ask for a pitcher of beer and a shot of tequila. Ben asks for mozzarella sticks and fries on top of our drink order to soak up all of my attempts to get drunk.

  Motherfucker knows me too well.

  “How’s Jace doing with his grades?” Ben asks me, cracking open a peanut. “Ridgemont game is coming up.”

  “Not sure,” I tell him honestly. “His tutor hasn’t been keeping me up to date. But while she’s here, why don’t you ask her?”

  Ben gives me an exasperated look. “I can...if you want me to.”

  I give him a smart-ass grin. “I want you to.”

  He shrugs and pops another peanut in his mouth. “How’s the house?”

  “Which one?”

  “Both.”

  “Well, according to my text messages from Bobbie,” I profess. “They’re both going fine.” Ben starts choking on a peanut in the midst of laughing. I don’t offer my hand to help him out, having no idea of how any of this shit is funny.

  “Well, isn’t this some twisted karma,” Ben finally says, getting himself together. “Sawyer finally did it. She made the big bad wolf go stir crazy.”

  “I’m not stir crazy,” I retort, extending my legs under the table and crossing my ankles.

  “Well, rumors are grinding through the gossip mills of you fucking Sawyer’s last assistant.”

  I raise a brow. “That was a thing?”

  Of course, it was.

  I mean, this was Freemont, after all. Veronica probably threw my ass right under the bus the moment she figured out that it was all a show for her boss. And I couldn’t give two shits.

  “It was a big thing, according to my girlfriend,” Ben replies. “You pretty much headlined with your old ways and shit. The ‘ole Colson Hayes is back and on the prowl for his next victim.”

  “Shut the fuck up,” I chuckle.

  Ben holds his hands up. “Swear to God, man. The fucking town has nothing else better to do.”

  “Maybe they should find someone to do.”

  Ben laughs, as our waitress walks up with our drinks, which gives me an opportunity to look at Sawyer. She’s deep in thought, picking at her napkin while Myles talks her head off, using his hands to express his conversation. Her head randomly comes up, and her eyes lock with something behind me. They are filled with shock at first but warm as a small smile graces her face.

  I want to turn around and see what’s caught her attention but don’t dare move, following her eyes as they move to the right. Myles is still oblivious, talking and smiling, but she still isn’t listening. Her interest just landed on something else more intriguing.

  “Ben,” I ground out. “Turn around.” I keep my eyes on Sawyer but catch Ben turning his body toward mine.

  “For what?” He pops another peanut in his mouth.

  “Who’s behind me?” Ben expertly scratches his head and turns his attention to where I’ve directed him.

  “A bunch of guys.”

  I clench my jaw. “Does one look like an Abercrombie and Fitch model?”

  “What the fuck does one of those look like?” I break myself from Sawyer and glare at him.

  “Built, toned, looks like he spends more time on his hair than a woman,” I drone. Ben turns to look again.

  “Hmmm...someone is staring over this way.”

  Motherfucker.

  The sound of a chair sliding across the hardwood floors screeches my attention back to Sawyer. She is standing and looking down at the doctor, her lips moving with a smile.

  Then she starts to slip away.

  I follow her with my eyes until I can’t anymore, not wanting to make it obvious that I’m fucking monitoring her. Swiping up my shot glass, I down the tequila, welcoming the burn down my throat and warming my chest.

  “Take it easy,” Ben quips. “What’s going on?”

  “You really wanna know?” I babble, grabbing my beer mug.

  “Yeah.”

  “Sawyer is dating two guys,” I advise, taking a generous sip of my Bud Light.

  “Really?” Ben replies with a shade of shock in his tone. “Damn.” I bite the tip of my tongue.

  I don’t like this.

  I don’t like this form of Sawyer and how she thinks she can be someone like me. She has one boy toy patiently waiting for her to return while she runs over to the other.

  Maybe they know of each other?

  Fuck this. I turn around, scanning the small bar for the redhead who drives me absolutely fucking insane.

  But she’s gone.

  She fucking left with him?

  Facing my previous position, I take another sip of my beer before standing. “I’m going to go take a piss.” I kick my chair back and make my way to the bar, ordering another shot from the bartender before entering the dark hallway to the restrooms.

  I need a minute to clear my head of the chaos going through it. Sawyer and I are vinegar and water, we’d never mix. Plus, if you add in salt to the all the wounds we’ve caused each other, it would only sting more.

  Knocking lightly on the men’s room door, I hear nothing, so I turn the doorknob and stride in. I need water splashed in my eyes so I can unsee what I have already today and just get fucked up so I can permanently forget it.

  The dirty white tiles are the first thing I notice, making me cringe at potentially catching a disease in this fucking bathroom. Then my gaze comes up and slams into Sawyer’s body pushed up into the wall.

  Her eyes are closed, her bottom lip in between her teeth while Abercrombie’s face is nestled in her neck. Her legs are wrapped around his waist, the pink dress she is wearing dragged up her thighs as boy toy number two thrusts into her, a soft groan leaving her mouth.

  “Fuck,” Jake growls, picking up his pace. Her fingers dig into his shoulder blades, holding on to him as he fucks her.

  Fucks her.

  “I missed you,” he vows in a husky timbre. “You’re the only one that fucking does this to me, Freshman.” He cups her face, bringing her lips to his, and I just stand there, stunned and furious.

  I’ve never
been livid to the point that I can’t physically move. That I can’t form a word or bark out something sarcastic. I’m frozen to this dingy white floor, staring at the woman who destroyed me.

  And she’s doing it again.

  My chest aches, my heart is cracking, I can feel it. I’ve felt this before. Each driving force that Jake slams into Sawyer’s pussy is chipping away at my soul. But it’s also splintering my self-restraint.

  You’re the only one that fucking does this to me, Freshman.

  He’s in love with her.

  In some capacity, he has strong feelings for her. Didn’t he say they’ve been together for a while? Because on that rainy Thursday night two years ago, she was standing on the sidewalk in front of my house in Cali.

  A soft gasp tugs me out of my inner turmoil and deep into green eyes filled with surprise. Sawyer doesn’t speak, but her mouth is open; stunned, petrified, and in a load of fucking trouble.

  I don’t need a reminder of our past. The things I’m capable of doing. I will destroy everything she’s worked for. Anyone that gets in my way. And if another moan escapes her fucking lips while his cock is deep in her, I’m going to stain this floor in red.

  “Are you going to come hard for me?” Jake pants, his hand cupping her dropped jaw to look at him. Her face toward him but not her eyes.

  They’re fastened with mine.

  “Are you, Bases?” I finally spill out, relieved that I found my voice. Jake jolts, peering over his shoulder at the intrusion, and I’m already on my rampage. My feet striding toward them, to tear him away from her and kill him in the process.

  My hand is already on his tricep, spinning him around to face me, connecting into his cheekbone. Jake’s face slams to the side as he stumbles back. I don’t want his damn dick anywhere near me.

  Gripping the sides of his shirt, I straighten him just to hurl him into the small sink. The back of his head hits the glass mirror and it cracks like a spider web.

  “Colson!” I ignore her, throwing a jab into his ribcage.

  I don’t see Jake anymore, I just feel rage coursing through my body, needing to free itself. It’s demanding I inflict all my pain on someone else because it’s tired of being contained in my body for over a decade.