The Sweet Spot (All About the Diamond #1)

by Naomi Springthorp

  Joey continues to dis on the other team, and comments on the Seals though he’s obviously focused on Mason. “Cross is fast in the outfield, but I’m not a fan of skinny butts. He does have nice shoulders. He could use a haircut. Their shortstop looks familiar, I think I’ve seen him at the bar. What’s with your guy Martin? Does he play for my team?”

  “I don’t think he plays for your team.”

  “How do you know?”

  “He’s a flirt and acts like he wants Rick’s sister.”

  “It could be a cover.”

  “I suppose. She’s married, so it is safe flirting. At least, I think it’s just flirting.”

  “Get me his number. She’s his beard. Actually, get me Mason’s number. I like him better.” Mason stretches and bends backwards while he’s playing out behind second base. “Those pants. He wears the hell out of those pants. I bet he has to have a tailor let out the thighs in his jeans.” Joey starts to turn red and I give him my water.

  Joey knows baseball and baseball players. It’s an enjoyable experience to watch the game with him and have an intelligent baseball conversation, granted it did include a lot about individual players and their asses. Most importantly, I have fun and it allows me to block out the horrible morning. I’m looking forward to spending the night in bed with my man and this morning I would’ve bet good money against it.

  As far as the game itself, we lost 4-3. Joey’s scoring system is better, based on player hotness we win by a landslide.

  Joey takes me back to the hotel via surface streets through Hollywood, trying to talk me into going out and enjoying the Hollywood scene since it’s Friday night. It’s a sight to see with all the crazies wandering the streets and people lined up to get into clubs. People dressed up as superheroes and princesses, but my favorite was the guy with the hat, antenna, and cloak—all made from aluminum foil. I explain I want to beat Rick back from the game and he couldn’t argue with wanting to be ready for my beefcake. He drops me off at my hotel and says he’ll be calling. Felt like a date when you know the guy isn’t ever going to call you, but Joey will.

  I go up to our room to take a quick shower and be ready for Rick when he gets back. We need each other and after today, we’ll need to be close to let each other know we’re still us. I don’t think it’s quite the same as make-up sex, but then again maybe we can do that, too.

  I walk into the room to find that skanky fucking fake-boobed, red head—naked in our bed. Are you fucking kidding me with this? How does she get room keys? How does she find out the room number she’s looking for? My common sense left and I’m at a loss. I love Rick. I want to trust him, but the same skank only a few days apart waiting in his room for him? Questions fly through my head and I can’t make them stop.

  I straight up yell at her, “Get the fuck out!”

  “Oh, hi sweetie. I didn’t expect to see…” I interrupt her.

  “Shut up and get out, now!”

  “It would be better to let him pick who he wants. The hotel clerk gave you the key, too? I told you he isn’t interested in you. This is going to be embarrassing for you. You should go before he gets here. Unless you want to have a threesome. Rick can handle it. He’s good. Very good. It’s those catcher’s legs and what he can do while he’s in that crouch position.”

  “Rick gave me the key. I’m his girlfriend. Get the fuck out!”

  “He didn’t say anything about a girlfriend when I talked to him on Tuesday. Remember I was in his room then, too.”

  The door opens and Rick walks in taking in the scene.

  “I said, get out!” I yell at her again, more agitated than when I found her.

  Rick gazes at me and smiles, concern in his eyes. He turns to the red head, “Ava, what are you doing here?”

  What the fuck? He knows her name? This is the same skank from Colorado. He obviously knows more than her name. I can’t believe I trusted him. I need to get out of here. I pack at a frantic pace. This can’t be happening. I should’ve left in Colorado. Fuck, and he doesn’t trust me getting texts from a guy? I don’t need to know anything else. I’m out of here.

  Rick grabs my arm, “Stop. You don’t need to pack. You’re not going anywhere.”

  I try to pull away from his strong grasp, yelling at him, “I’m not staying here with her. Get your hands off me!” I turn to her and scream, “Why are you still here? Get the fuck out!”

  Rick pulls me to him with both hands, holding me tight against him. “She’s a friend. She visits me sometimes on road trips when she’s lonely. Sherry, she’s only a friend. She’s not you. I love you, my queen. It’s okay.”

  “Fuck you. That bitch told me to leave so I wouldn’t embarrass myself, then suggested we have a threesome because apparently you’re ‘very good’ and can handle it. I bet she visits you a lot during baseball season and I bet you fuck her brains out.” My anger takes over, but my heart hurts and tears are going to fall at any second. “I bet you touch her like you touch me. I bet you don’t use condoms with her either. Fuck, now I have to get tested, who knows where that skank’s been!”

  “Sherry. Stop!” Pain and anger in his eyes as he tries to get through to me.

  “Get out, Ava. Sherry is my everything and I love her. Quit being stupid and causing trouble. Get out.”

  “You don’t love her!” Ava continues to be trouble.

  “She’s right. You don’t love me. You don’t trust me.” I pull myself from Rick’s grip, grab my bags and make a dash for the door.

  “Sherry, please!” Rick blocks the door, trying to keep me from leaving.

  I stare into his eyes, “I loved you with all my heart. I only wanted to be with you. I would’ve given you anything.” I look at the floor, needing to gather strength and not giving either of them the privilege of my tears.

  “Please, my queen. I love you.”

  I push past him, leaving quickly. I yell back at him when I walk out the door. “Enjoy your evening with the skank.” I run for the elevator, needing to get out of the hotel as fast as possible. I hop in a waiting taxi and see Rick running across the lobby as I pull away.

  I don’t know where I’m going. Usually, I would say home. I’m not in the mood to go home. I text Joey and get dropped off at the bar he’s at, luggage and all. Joey scans me head to toe as I walk toward him in the bar.

  “Sweetie, you look wrecked!” He knocks on the bar top to get the bartenders attention. “Jack shots and line them up.”

  I tell Joey what happened and he offers to let me stay at his place in LA. He’s gone most of the time anyway, flying somewhere. He puts my luggage in his car and takes my phone from me. “We should turn this off for now.” He’s right. I don’t want to talk to anyone. Honestly, I don’t want to be at a bar. I want to hide in a corner, somewhere nobody who knows Rick can find me. My head is filled with images of him fucking her and how they're probably doing it right now. Joey puts his arms around me, “Sweetie, don’t think about those things. You’ll get through this. You don’t need him. There’s always another man. Trust me, I know.”

  “It was only me before. I don’t need a man. I wanted him. I’ll be fine and back to my old life soon.” I listen to my voice and it doesn’t sound confident and independent. I don’t understand how I got here. He was a fantasy. I was satisfied with the fantasy. My life was perfect. I had everything I wanted. Now, I don’t know if I can go back to that.

  “Sweetie, you need to hide at my place for a week or so. You need to be away from the memories and somewhere he can’t find you. Joey will take care of you. I know what its like.”

  I have everything I need with me for work and I need to be home for the karaoke finals on Wednesday. Hiding for a few days might be a good idea and I want someone to take care of me. I shoot the three shots of Jack lined up for me, then I do two more. Jack and Joey get me through the night without crying and make sure I’m safe.

  I wake up about noon on Saturday in an unfamiliar bed and remember I’m at Joey’s. I don’t
get out of bed until I have to or I’m going to wet the bed. Yes, I’m being a self-indulgent, pouty baby. You would, too. Joey hears me rustling around and walks in with a cup of hot coffee and a full container of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream. This is definitely an eat-a-whole-quart-of-ice-cream kind of day. I settle on cheesy old romance movies and spend the day being a girl. Joey indulges me, even sitting with me and crying at the movies. We don’t turn on the game.

  I spend the next few days at Joey’s, concentrating on work and coming up with ideas to increase business. I’m also researching trips, specifically cheap vacations, local getaways, and staycations. I need a get-away. I need alone time. I need the beach.

  We go out to the bar every night, getting wasted so I can make it through the night without crying. I refuse to allow a man control over me. It’s never happening again.

  I call my season ticket representative and turn in the rest of my tickets for the season for a refund. It’s not their normal process, but she made an exception for me because she understands and it’s not a typical scenario.

  Monday night, a hot guy with toned arms, sits next to me at the bar. He’s clean cut and smooth shaven with dark almost black hair and light grey-blue eyes. He smells good, woodsy with a hint of citrus, and I ignore him. I order another shot. A few minutes later, the bartender brings hot guy two shots and he slides one over to me, “Hi, I’m Adam.”

  I don’t want to talk to him. I’m not interested in men. I’m done with them. But, I’ll take the drink. “Thank you. I’m not interested.” I toss back the shot.

  “So, I’m-not-interested, do you have a nickname that’s shorter?”

  I can’t help it and I smile, “No.”

  Joey, paying close attention, kicks me and whispers in my ear, “He’s hot! Have some fun, you deserve it.”

  He examines me for a few minutes, taking in every detail. “I’m going to call you Angel. You might be able to save me tonight.”

  “Call me what you want. I probably won’t answer.”

  “Give me your number and I’ll call to ask you out.”

  “No, thanks.”

  A slow acoustic song starts playing on the juke box and he reaches for my hand, “How about a dance?”

  Joey kicks me, almost knocking me off the barstool. “Fine.” Adam’s hand is warm and callused, strong holding mine as he pulls me over to the juke box where a few couples are dancing. He puts his warm hand on my back and doesn’t release my other hand, watching me and not pulling me close.

  A couple minutes into the song, he leans into my ear and I tense up at the thought of another man’s lips on me. He whispers, “You’re so beautiful. I don’t know why you’re sad. Let me help you bring the shine back to your halo, Angel.”

  I go back to my barstool immediately when the song is over, but not before I reach up and kiss his cheek. I don’t know why I did it. Joey pats my leg when I sit back down and orders us another shot.

  Adam puts his hand on my shoulder, turning me toward him. “I’m only in town for a few days. Can I take you out to dinner?”

  “I don’t live here. I’m visiting.”

  “Why do I think it’s more than that? What are you hiding from?”

  “Who, not what.” Joey kicks me again and I’m starting to worry about bruises on my leg.

  “It’s only dinner.”

  Joey butts in, “She’d love to.”

  “Joey!”

  “What? You need to get out. Let the man buy you dinner.” Joey looks at Adam, “You, keep it just dinner. She’s already heartbroken.”

  Adam smiles at Joey, “Let’s go, Angel.”

  “Now?”

  “Like I said, I’m only in town a few days. I’m hungry. What do you say?”

  I consider the jeans and old T-shirt I’m wearing. “I guess.”

  “Good girl. Have fun, sweetie.”

  Adam covers my tab, takes my hand and leads me out of the bar. We walk down the street, finding an all night cafe a few blocks down. “I’m guessing it’s a guy who has you sad?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it. Why are you picking up a woman in a bar when you’re away from home and it’s just dinner?”

  “I travel a lot. I don’t have a home unless you count my parent’s place and I rarely go there. Nothing wrong with having another friend.”

  His words trigger something in me and I burst out, “What kind of friend? I’m not the kind of friend who shows up at your place waiting for you naked.”

  He holds his hands up, “Only dinner, Angel. I might want to touch you and kiss your lips, but I don’t jump. It takes time to get there. I don’t share much of me often.”

  I admit it was nice to sit and have dinner with him. We talked about places we like to go. I told him I love the beach and I’m planning on a trip somewhere along the coast soon. I’ve been planning a slow road trip along the West Coast, stopping somewhere different every night.

  “I’m traveling to San Francisco in about a week, maybe we can cross paths again. I’m busy with work tomorrow, but how about a late night dinner or maybe breakfast? I’d like to see you again.”

  “I’m going home tomorrow morning. I have to be home on Wednesday.”

  “Where’s home?”

  “San Diego.”

  “I go there for work sometimes, too. I’m in LA until Thursday, then I’ve got a couple stops across the mid-west before I go to San Francisco. Can I have your number?”

  I don’t respond. We get up and leave the cafe, walking back toward the bar we started at. Joey is still there when we walk back in, he gives me a nod. I start toward my barstool, but Adam has my hand and doesn’t let go. He pulls me to the juke box and plays the same song from earlier, “Can I Be Him” by James Arthur. He places his hand on my back like before and we dance slightly closer. He pulls me closer and closer as we dance, and the song repeats on the juke box. Guilt consumes me because another man has his hands on me, it’s not Rick. I remind myself it’s over. Why should I feel guilty? I reach my hands around his neck and run my fingers through his hair. His smile brightens and he pulls me against him. He’s solid muscle and it feels good to have a man against me. My body is needy and I’m not going there. It might make me a tease. It doesn’t matter. I gaze into his eyes and he leans in, kissing me softly and chaste on the lips. It’s not Rick. It’s not electric. But, it’s nice and I want to kiss him again. I stretch up to him, me in my jeans, T-shirt, and flip flops, to him in his long sleeved dress shirt with his loosened tie and turned up sleeves. His lips meet mine, we’re both needy. His lips are soft. His kiss is open-mouthed without tongue and I want more. I wonder if it can be electric. I want to know there can be somebody else. I need to have options other than going back to my old life alone. I push it though I shouldn’t, I lick his bottom lip and suck on it lightly driving him to deepen the kiss and he moves his hand to the back of my head, holding me where he wants me and playfully kissing me.

  The music stops and I’m suddenly brought back to reality. I break away and run out of the bar quickly. I lean against Joey’s car and hope he follows me out. I need away. I can’t do this.

  “What the hell?” Joey yells across the parking lot while he walks toward his car. “Why are you running away from the hottie?”

  “I’m not ready. Can we go home?”

  “Yea, but we’re walking.” I’m good with that, it’s not far back to his place.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Tuesday morning, I need to be an adult. No more hiding at Joey’s and letting him take care of me. No more letting Joey handle my phone, edit my email and texts, sheltering me from the problem. I’d still be a blubbering idiot, sitting on his couch wrapped in a blanket and eating junk food, without him and his help. If nothing else, I’ve established a plan and I’m sticking to it. I’m taking the rail home today. I have to do laundry. Tomorrow is karaoke finals.

  The Seals are home on Thursday and I want to be away. I’ve already mapped out my road trip and I’m lea
ving Thursday morning. I’m packing enough clothes for two weeks and I’m breaking out my unused back up credit card to cover rooms and gas. I’m making it all a business expense, trying different hotels, checking out different beaches and taking photos along the way. Hopefully, I’ll make friends at the hotels I stop at. It’ll be great to link them to my website and social media.

  I start Tuesday walking with Joey to get his car and taking him to breakfast, a thank you for taking care of me and letting me stay with him. He drops me off at the rail and I’m on my way home. I plug into my iPod and hit shuffle. For the first time in four days I look at my phone, social media, and email. A text pops up at me:

  Text from Joey - You can do this, sweetie. I’m here if you need me. I didn’t delete the messages and emails you don’t want to see, I hid them for you until you're ready or you can leave them hidden forever.

  I smile, knowing I’ve got this and get some work done on the rail. I start with email and choose which messages I want to read. I’ve been keeping up on daily work email, but not others and thankfully I can pick up with today’s and not have to see anything about Rick. I have a couple new emails from customers and a message from Mike with the Mic.

  From: MikeMic

  Sherry,

  Finals are postponed. Batter Up was rented out for a party and they used the stage as a dance floor. It wasn’t made for that and collapsed. It’ll be a few weeks. I’ll update you when I have the new date for finals. Hoping they upgrade the stage and maybe the backstage area in the process. Thank you for your patience.