Easton: The Casanova Club #3

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Easton: The Casanova Club #3 Page 12

by Ali Parker


  We buttered our servings and then drowned them in maple syrup. I watched her take her first bite. She closed her eyes and nodded. “Oh yeah. That’s good.”

  I beamed with pride. “It was the one thing I taught myself how to make when I moved out on my own for the first time. I used to eat it every single morning. And then I realized how unsustainable that was. Well, along with the pizza I ordered every night.”

  Piper shook her head at me. “I can only imagine how easy it would be to splurge on all those things when you realize you’re about to make it big and all of a sudden you’re making serious money.”

  “Yeah. Food. Cars. Women. It got out of control pretty quick. Good thing I had an agent looking out for me.”

  “Jerry, right?” Piper asked, cocking her head to the side as she chewed.

  “Yep. He’s my man.”

  “Have you talked to him since the season ended?”

  “Briefly. He’s taking some time off right now to just get away from all the craziness. This is usually when he and I need some space from each other anyway.”

  “I can’t imagine why,” Piper said slyly.

  I laughed. “Sure you can. I’m an ass, and I treat him like shit after a loss.” I paused as she stared at me. “Treated. I treated him like shit. Not anymore. I have to change that.”

  Piper adjusted her legs under herself to sit cross legged. “I’m happy to hear that. I’m sure Jerry and Raj will be as well.”

  I nodded. “Yeah. I talked to Raj on the drive home last Sunday after the game. Told him what happened and that you’d given me something to think about. Little prick told me you were right.”

  “Because I was.”

  “I know. I just wanted an ally in the moment, but he stood by you. Gave me some examples of times I’d been less than kind to him. I apologized, and we’re good now. I still have to make it up to him, but I’m pretty sure we’re good.”

  “That’s great, Easton. Really.” She put her hand on mine. “I’m proud of you.”

  “Thank you.”

  Sitting here like that was surreal. I felt like I’d known Piper James forever. It was as if she’d been in my life always, and the fact that she was going to be gone for the next ten and a half months left a crater-sized hole in my chest every time I thought about it.

  And after those ten and a half months? Well, I didn’t like to think about that.

  I watched her eat her last piece of syrup-covered toast. I’d learned a lot from her in such a short time, and I was grateful for every second she’d shared with me. She showed me how to slow things down and live in the moment. Maybe not intentionally, but I learned it nevertheless by spending time with her. All I ever wanted to do when she was in the room was focus on living and breathing every second with her.

  I learned that playing ball was not the be all and end all of all things. There would be more for me after I was done with the game. After the injuries became too much and my body became too damaged or too old to keep up with it all, there was still plenty out there for me to do.

  Like practicing kindness and finding someone to share my life with.

  If that person happened to be Piper at the end of the year, then I would be the happiest man on earth, but I couldn’t put all my eggs in one basket. I had to think objectively and recognize that there were a dozen men in this thing with her, and she’d only met two of us so far.

  I had no clue what the others had to offer her. One thing I was sure of was that none of them were likely to yell at her on the middle of a football field over a stupid game. That would put them ahead of me all on its own.

  Piper slipped out from under the covers and dropped down to the floor. She padded to the bathroom door and caught herself on the doorframe, swinging around it slowly. Then she looked over her shoulder at me. “I’m going to have a shower.”

  “All right.”

  She paused and ran her tongue over her bottom lip. “Are you going to join me?”

  I nearly knocked the entire tray over on the bed as I fumbled to extract myself from the sheets. Piper’s giggles echoed in my brain as she turned on the shower and I rushed to join her, not wanting to miss a single second of standing under the hot water with her.

  I only had so much time left, and these were the moments I was going to dream about for the rest of the year.

  Until it all ended.

  Chapter 20

  Piper

  Easton and I spent so much time in the shower that the water ran cold when we were finally ready to get out. That wasn’t such a bad thing.

  My skin was burning hot, and my muscles were weak and rubber-like. The cold water refreshed me and seemed to do the same for Easton. We got dressed and met up at the front door.

  I slid my feet into my gold sandals as Easton searched his pockets for his car keys. Apparently, Raj wasn’t driving us today. Easton was.

  I used the full-length mirror hanging on the wall across from his front door to double check that my outfit was appropriate.

  I glanced at Easton. “Is this okay for whatever you have planned today?”

  He wouldn’t give me any details, and he was getting a kick out of keeping it a secret.

  Eason adjusted the collar of his short-sleeved, pale-blue button-up shirt. “It’ll be perfect. Those shoes are comfortable?”

  “Very.” I nodded.

  Not only were they comfortable, but they went with every summer item I owned, like the dress I’d worn on the yacht. Today, I’d gone a bit simpler. I was wearing a pair of high-waisted white denim shorts. The distressed gray tee I had on was tucked into the shorts, and I’d opted for a bralette instead of something with underwire so I could be comfortable for the day. I had no idea where we were going so comfort was important.

  Easton hooked an arm around my waist and guided me to the other door in the foyer that opened up into his garage. He flicked on the lights, and I made my way down the set of stairs in the garage as they flickered on with that familiar fluorescent pop.

  Spread out before me were three very nice cars.

  “Very nice” was probably an understatement that showed how little I knew about vehicles.

  “Wow,” I said, hoping my tone conveyed the appropriate amount of awe. “Which one are we taking?”

  “For a day with you?” Easton asked, cocking his head to the side and making a beeline for the only convertible of the three. “The Spyder.”

  I walked over to the car. It was canary yellow with a black leather interior, and the vehicle oozed sex. It was all straight, sleek lines, and the front end sloped down dramatically, promising speed and sharp handling. At least, I assumed that’s what it did.

  Easton opened my door for me, and I slid into it. “Who makes this?”

  “Who?” he asked as he walked around the short front end.

  “Like, what brand is it? I’ve never heard of a Spyder before.”

  He chuckled as he dropped into his seat and clicked a button on his key fob to open the garage door in front of us. “It’s a Lamborghini, Piper.”

  “Oh. Well, shit.” I ran my hand along the door panel as he turned the car on. The engine rumbled, and the car vibrated like a beast ready to be set free. “I shouldn’t have bothered doing my hair.”

  Easton flashed me a wicked smile. “I suggest you tie it up now.”

  I took his advice and popped open the small clutch I’d brought with me. I found a hair tie and secured my hair in a tight bun on top of my head. Then I slid on my sunglasses and nodded confidently. “Let’s go, Superstar.”

  That was all the permission Easton needed. He dropped the clutch, shifted into first, and peeled out of the garage like a madman. He never slowed his acceleration to check that the garage door was closing behind us. Instead, he tore out onto the street and opened up on the throttle. The car accelerated effortlessly forward, and the momentum pushed me hard against the seat.

  I gripped the edges and pressed my fingers into the leather. Easton was laughing. Then I noticed t
hat I was too.

  The wind ripped over the windshield and tore pieces of my hair from its bun, but I didn’t care. The rush of hot air all around me, the hum of the car, the rumble of the engine, and the thrill of the speed had me feeling like I was flying.

  It was wonderful. It felt like freedom and smelled like gas, and I was sure I could have spent my entire afternoon ripping around the city with Easton in this car.

  We ended up pulling over when we reached the boardwalk on Miami Beach. Easton walked around and opened my door for me before holding out a hand to help me out of the low vehicle. The eyes of pedestrians walking along the boardwalk were drawn to the car, and Easton didn’t seem bothered by their stares as he took my hand in his and walked me across the grass between the parking lot and the boardwalk. Then he armed the alarm with the click of a button on his keys, slid them into his pocket, and glanced over at me. “Should we find ourselves a tropical drink?”

  “I could go for a margarita.”

  “A margarita? A girl after my own heart. Come on. I know just the place.”

  Easton took me down the boardwalk about a half a mile. The walk was pleasant, and he pointed out street performers and artists along the way, as well as some things he used to do when he was younger, like coming and tossing a football around with some of his buddies on the weekends.

  The margarita bar Easton had in mind was packed to the brim with people. He shimmied his way through the crowd and kept his hand firmly wrapped around mine. We ordered drinks, and as we waited, everyone in the twenty-by-twenty-foot Tiki-style bar noticed Easton. Within seconds, he was taking pictures with fans and signing napkins and other personal items.

  I carried our margaritas out as the crowd took more photos of Easton. He smiled and caught up with me out on the outdoor patio. I handed him his drink, and we took a table near the railing. He pulled his ball cap down over his eyes to avoid being seen by passersby on the sidewalk.

  “Does this happen everywhere you go?” I asked.

  “Pretty much.”

  “Does it ever, you know, get on your nerves?”

  “Sometimes. On the bad days. But for the most part, it’s not that bad. Making them happy makes me happy. Especially the kids. That’s the best part.”

  “Do you think you want kids one day?” I asked. I wasn’t sure where the question had come from, but all of a sudden, the words were tumbling out of me, and then they were there, floating in the air between us, waiting for an answer.

  Easton sipped his drink, and his cheeks puckered at the sourness. “Sure. One day. When I’m not playing anymore, and I have more time at home. I don’t want to be one of those dads who’s never home. You know?”

  I nodded. “Yeah, I get it. That’s really respectable, Easton.” Not to mention a huge turn-on.

  “What about you?”

  “What about me?” I asked.

  He snorted. “Do you want kids?”

  “Oh. Um. Yeah. Eventually.”

  “How many?”

  “I don’t know. Two? Maybe three?”

  “Three, huh? That’s a lot of mini Piper’s. You’re putting a lot of pressure on a guy to know how to handle all that fierce female energy.”

  I arched an eyebrow. “You’re poking fun at me.”

  He laughed, and I leaned in closer, loving the sound and his smile. Easton folded his arms over the table and leaned in closer, too. “Only a little bit.”

  “Mm hmm.”

  By the time we finished our drinks, the sun had started its descent in the sky. We walked along the boardwalk, stopping to grab churros and other snacks along the way. Of course, we also stopped to take photos with adoring fans, which consumed most of our time throughout the afternoon.

  The interruption of constantly being bombarded by strangers and their camera phones was at first a little unnerving for me. People had no boundaries or respect for Easton’s personal space. They were up in his face and screaming his name and hanging off him like band groupies. It didn’t bother him in the least. He smiled for every picture, signed everything anyone asked him to, and he wore his smile the whole time.

  When I started watching him rather than his fans, I ended up liking the exchanges. He was a bright beacon of light for them, and it showed. He gave them a lot more in those interactions than just a picture or an autograph.

  Near the end of the evening, he offered me his arm, and we started walking back down the boardwalk toward the car, which was a good forty-five minute walk away.

  “I hope you didn’t find this tiresome,” he said after a while.

  “The autographs, or the walking?” I teased.

  “Both?”

  I laughed. “Both were great. I couldn’t think of a better way to spend an afternoon. Besides maybe on your yacht.”

  “We still have time to spend more days out there if you want.”

  “Can we?”

  “Absolutely.”

  I leaned into him and rested my head on his shoulder. Then my gaze wandered across the boardwalk to the beach, where the waves were softly rushing up the sand to kiss the toes of children who were pleading to stay out for just five more minutes while their parents packed up their beach bags for the evening.

  I tugged at his arm and pulled Easton down to the water.

  I kicked off my shoes, and he did the same, and we walked with our feet in the water along the beach toward the car. The water was cool but not cold, and the sand was still warm from the sun. It smelled like sunscreen and salt, and we stopped to watch the sun go down as music started up behind us.

  Easton looked over his shoulder. “Street dancers.”

  I looked too. Women in big red skirts and colorful outfits had taken to the street. Men joined them and so did children. Soon, a pretty decent-sized crowd was gathered of all sorts of people dancing to an upbeat Latin song.

  Easton nudged me gently with his elbow. “Want to dance?”

  Chapter 21

  Easton

  Piper moved like she’d been born to dance. Her hips twisted and swayed as I spun and twirled her, and she moved with effortless grace across the street, our dance floor for the evening.

  The crowd seemed just as enamoured with her as I was. She captured their hearts, and even though they all whispered my name as they watched, their eyes were on her, not me.

  She stole the show.

  She threw her head back with laughter as I dipped her way down to the ground, and I planted a kiss on her neck. She stroked the back of my neck as I pulled her back up, and we stood perfectly still amongst the bodies of other dancers, who spun and wove all around us as she leaned in and kissed me.

  “Do you want to get out of here?” she asked.

  I nodded and took her hand. We ducked away from the dancers, broke through the throng of people who had gathered around to watch and tap their feet to the beat of the music, and then hurried along down the street toward the car.

  Piper was out of breath as I opened her door for her. “That was amazing. I didn’t know you could dance like that!”

  I walked around the hood of the car, shaking my head at her. “You’re the one full of surprises, Piper, not me.”

  She blushed and adjusted her shorts on her thighs. “Thank you. I had a lot of fun.”

  “Are you hungry?”

  She nodded eagerly. “Yes. That worked up an appetite, and I think I need something to even out all those margaritas.”

  The pop-up dance floor had become a hotspot for local vendors to bring their food trucks over, and within no time, a margarita table had popped up, and Piper and I found ourselves sipping drinks as we danced. Apparently, they’d caught up to her.

  “Do you want to go somewhere and sit down to have a meal, or would you rather do takeout?”

  Piper ran her finger along her bottom lip. I resisted the urge to adjust the crotch of my pants, which were confining my cock as it instantly went stiff. The girl had no clue how sexy she was and how the smallest gesture could push a guy like me over th
e edge.

  She glanced at me out of the corner of her eye and gave me a sexy little smile. “Takeout sounds fun.”

  “I have everything at the house to make more margaritas.”

  Her smile broadened. “Then what the hell are we still doing here? Get us home, Superstar. But first, tacos.”

  “Tacos, huh?”

  She nodded decisively. “Yep. I don’t care from where. You pick. But there has to be a good taco place in Miami, right?”

  I laughed and reversed out of our parking space. “You have no idea.”

  On the way home, I stopped at a local food truck that had been frequenting the downtown Miami area for years. They were cheap as hell, and you got a ton of food. Piper waited in the car, humming along to the song on the radio as I paid and collected our dinner.

  I got back in the car and smiled as she started singing along to the song for the drive home. She leaned her head back and closed her eyes before pulling her hair tie out. Her bun fell apart, and her hair was pulled back off her face in the wind to trail along behind her like the mane of a horse.

  Then she cracked open an eye and caught me staring at her. “Yes?”

  “Nothing,” I said hurriedly, fixing my eyes back on the road as we came to a stop at a red light.

  Piper giggled and leaned over the center console. She put her hand on my knee and then worked it up my thigh. “Liar. Tell me.”

  “I was…”

  “Yes?” She batted her lashes at me.

  I swallowed. “I was just thinking about how beautiful you are.”

  She laughed and fell back in her seat. “Oh, stop it, Easton.”

  “I mean it.”

  She rolled her eyes, and the light went green. I pulled away from the line and took a few turns that led us up the residential streets toward my place on the outskirts of the city. For the final five minutes of the drive, I rested my hand on her bare knee and ran my thumb in slow circles over her smooth skin. She let out a content sigh and closed her eyes. Everything was perfect in that moment, and I willed it to last longer than the three minutes we had before we got back to my house.

 

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