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The Hot Streak

Page 15

by Cecilia Tan


  She stayed on the bucket. “Did you fly me to Atlanta just to have sex with me?”

  He looked up at her. “Are you asking if I was afraid The Streak would break if we didn’t fuck? Or are you asking if the thought of going ten days without you, without seeing you or touching you, didn’t feel like it was going to be like going without water or food all that time?”

  “Both.”

  He slumped and answered. “Both.”

  She was silent for a bit. “You didn’t think I’d feel used?”

  He slumped even further and his voice was very small. “I figured if you loved me, you’d understand how important it was. And if you didn’t, well, maybe it was just a big adventure to you, and I gave you an adventure to remember, didn’t I?”

  She kicked him in the leg, but softly. “You idiot. If you loved me, you really should have just told me. And trusted me.”

  He shook his head. “You really, really think I could have come to you and said, ‘Casey, I’m on this winning streak and I think maybe we have to fuck before every time I pitch or I’ll lose. So I need you to come to Atlanta so I can do you.’ You wouldn’t have felt used then?”

  She chewed on that for a long moment. Too long. The bat boy summoned him back to the field. She thought about it some more.

  He’s right, she realized. If he’d said that, she probably would have slapped him in the face.

  Then her phone chimed with a text from Missy, just as Casey heard footsteps coming up the tunnel. Tyler is pitching like a demon, tonight. He just got the side on ten pitches. His total pitch count is only forty-eight right now.

  She looked up as Tyler resumed his place next to her. “Was that the fifth?”

  “Yeah,” he said tiredly. “The humidity’s a killer here, isn’t it?” She handed him her water bottle and he took a swig, then handed it back. “Thanks.”

  “You were right.”

  “About what?”

  “If you’d told me you wanted me to go to Atlanta because of the Streak. I would have been like, ‘are you fucking kidding me’? But you lied to get me there.”

  “No, I didn’t. I told you I really wanted someone who loved me there to watch me pitch, remember? Well, that’s absolutely true. And when you didn’t quibble with me over that description, well, I started to think maybe I could use the L word more often. Maybe work up to actually asking you how you felt, or at least giving you stronger and stronger hints about how I felt. Which I was kind of trying to do, but the time never seemed right.”

  She put a hand on his shoulder. “But after the game in Chicago, you just couldn’t hold it in anymore.”

  He nodded. “Yeah, basically. I knew I couldn’t pull the same thing I did in Atlanta, and Case… ” He turned so that he was facing her, his arms resting on his knees. “It wasn’t just love at first sight. It’s been getting stronger and stronger the more I know you.”

  “You’re sure it isn’t just that you keep winning?”

  He looked taken aback. “Um, I don’t know how to answer that. It’s true, I get happier as The Streak gets longer, but… I don’t think it’s that. I think I just love you more and more. Being apart for just a day or two now makes me practically ill. Like I can’t eat, can’t sleep.”

  She crossed her arms again. “There’s also the fact that I’m totally pissed off at you.”

  “No, no, no, that started before the fight. Mad Dog was beside himself and pressured me to tell you so that we could get it resolved. He was basically like, ‘look, if you love her that much and need her that much, just marry her already and then will you stop with the sad puppy looks?’ But I was like, no way, man, this is not some baseball wife. This is an independent woman who, like, has a career and who blew off the last ten guys who proposed to her, or dumped them before they could get to that stage. She’s a heartbreaker and I just want to not fuck it up and be with her as long as I can. I’ll live, I’ll be fine, I’m pitching good, so quit bugging me.”

  “A heartbreaker?” Casey found her hands gripping the water bottle so tight the cap flew off.

  “Well, yeah. You told me about all these losers you dumped, didn’t you?”

  “Yes, but… ”

  “You don’t think those guys were hurt?”

  “No, because they were not that into me, either. If they were, then… well… ”

  He waited until her pause dragged out. “Complete disclosure,” he reminded her.

  “Well, for one thing, the sex would have been better, because they would have paid a little attention to me instead of acting like they won some kind of lottery to get to sleep with me.”

  He couldn’t help laughing at that. “But come on. You’re amazing. Don’t you think some of them kind of fell for you a little?”

  She shrugged. “Well, maybe.”

  He sighed. “I didn’t want to be the next guy on your list of rejects, that’s all.”

  “Shit, Tyler… ” She’d only mentioned the lame-ass losers to him as a contrast, about how different he was, but apparently the message he’d received was more of a warning than she’d intended. “I… I love you, you know. And I really didn’t love any of those guys, even though I sometimes tried really hard to.”

  “Like I tried to love Linda. But it just wasn’t all there somehow, and I wasn’t really sure of that until I found the real thing. With you. Oh, damn it, that’s the bat boy.”

  Casey watched him go down the tunnel to pitch the sixth inning. She still didn’t believe she was the one who’d screwed things up, but she was starting to see how her own hang ups and his had combined together to make a kind of Gordian Knot.

  Was there a way to just slice through it?

  The security guard she’d seen before came wandering by again. “Hey, you been down here the whole time?” he asked her.

  “Um, yeah, why?” She wondered if he was going to try to make her move.

  “Just, no radio down here so you might not know. Your boy there is pitching another no-hitter.”

  “What? Is that even possible?” She stood up in shock.

  “Oh, sure. There was one guy, Johnny VanderMeer, in the ‘30s, pitched two actual no-hitters in back-to-back games. And Hammond didn’t actually do it in Chicago, of course.” He squinted at her. “Are you the gal he was talking about on TV? Is he coming up here every inning for inspiration from you or something?”

  Casey pressed her hands together. “Um, something like that.”

  “Well, keep it up, I guess. I shouldn’t say that, since I work for the Reds, but a no-hitter is a fine thing and, well, it’s a lovely story. I hope it all works out for you.” He held up his hand as if waving to her, and moved on down the corridor.

  Tyler was back before she had a chance to text Missy to ask what was going on.

  “You’re pitching really fast,” she said.

  “Is that bad? I’m trying to get back to you quicker,” he said. “I’m not striking out guys. Instead I’m letting them hit the ball, and they are mostly hitting them at guys. We piled up a big lead in the first inning, so I keep figuring if I give up a home run, it’s no big deal.”

  “But you’re… ” She stopped herself before she said the forbidden word. Did he not even realize he was pitching a no-hitter? “You’re always pissed off when you give up a homer.”

  He shrugged. “I’d rather give up a homer and get pulled from the game and get to have this talk with you, uninterrupted, than my usual way of doing things,” he said. “But so far no homers, so what can you do?”

  “It’s all right,” she found herself saying. She put her hands on his hips and then leaned up to give him one soft kiss on the cheek. “Let’s keep going.”

  “All right.” He held her hands in his. “What do you want to know next?”

  Good question. She was amazed to find that her questions about why he’d done all these things she found hurtful seemed to be answered— and the answer seemed to be almost always that he was afraid because he loved her so much. Meanwhile, she�
��d been afraid to love him in the first place.

  She did think of a question, though. “Will you sign the divorce papers as soon as the lawyers can get them to you?”

  “I will. Oh God, Casey, I will.”

  She found herself hugging him then, her heart aching, but like she’d said to Missy, he was the only one she wanted to soothe that hurt. She couldn’t speak. It seemed like neither could he. So they just held each other. She cried a little against his chest. “I’m still really angry at you,” she whispered.

  “I know,” he whispered back. “I’m so sorry.”

  It felt like far too soon she had to let go so he could go pitch the seventh.

  She wiped her tears and texted Missy immediately. Why didn’t you tell me he had a you-know-what going on?

  To which Missy replied: Don’t jinx it.

  Casey thought about that. The guy in Chicago had said some people wouldn’t move from their spot in the dugout for fear of breaking the spell somehow. It seemed like maybe she should stay put?

  Or was Missy telling her not to jinx The Streak itself?

  She sat down on the bucket, suddenly weak in the knees. “Tyler… ” It wasn’t just her heart that ached, but her whole body. Wasn’t that what he described? A need that was painful like thirst or hunger. She shivered despite the heat.

  There were questions she still needed to ask, though. About them. About the future. She was standing up waiting for him when he came up the tunnel the next time. She took him by the hands. “Are you going to tell me how you feel and what you want from now on?” she asked. “Even if you’re afraid I’ll say no or think it’s stupid or whatever?”

  He thought about it. “I’m going to try to, anyway. I’m not sure I’ll always succeed. But what about you? Same?”

  She sighed. “Yeah, same. I know how I feel right now, though.”

  “Angry?”

  “Well, yeah, but also I love you, and it’s really been painful not being with you.” She leaned against him. “And I think I understand a little better now what was going on, so although I’m still pissed off and hurt… I’m a lot less pissed off and hurt.”

  “Well, that’s something,” he said, sliding his arms around her.

  “Do you believe we have to have sex for you to win games?” she asked.

  “Yes,” he said. “I know it sounds stupid. But, well, superstition isn’t smart. But I can’t help what I believe.”

  “Do you want me to come along with you, and make sure we have sex before every start, so long as The Streak is alive?”

  He pulled back just enough to stare into her eyes. “Are you offering to do that?”

  “I didn’t say that. I asked, do you want me to?”

  “Yes, God, Casey, absolutely. For the record, though, I don’t think it’s necessarily strictly speaking sex so much as love, and well, our expression of love is very, very sexual… ”

  She raised an eyebrow at him.

  “Okay, you’re right. That was stretching it a little. Deep down, I think the sex is important.”

  She nodded and pressed a kiss against his lips as if rewarding him for being so truthful. “Last question for the moment: do you think we need to have sex for you to win this game tonight?”

  He thought for a few moments. “I was going to say no, because we’re going into the eighth with an eight-run lead, and I know the only reason I’m still in the game is my pitch count is low, but yeah, it seems like a surefire win. But then, that’s exactly the kind of thinking that jinxes you.”

  “I see,” she said. She held him close, wondering if that hardness she felt was his athletic cup or his cock.

  Chapter Ten

  Tyler slid his hand into the hair at the back of Casey’s neck. “That fucking bat boy is going to call for me any second now, probably.”

  Casey leaned up and kissed him, surprised at how quickly a flush seemed to come over her entire body. It had been five days, but it felt like longer. “What inning is it again?”

  “The eighth,” he said, nibbling at her ear. “I’m about to go pitch the eighth.”

  So unless he got knocked out of the game in the eighth, they’d get one more chance. “How wet do you think you can make me before then?”

  He swore softly. “This isn’t exactly the private-est place for that… ”

  She pulled him down the hallway to the niche she had found earlier, where two pipes ran through from floor to ceiling and she’d left the baseballs on the floor. Behind the pipes, they were more or less out of sight. He pushed her ahead of him, then pulled her against him, her back against his chest.

  He ran his hands lightly over her shirt, until her nipples rose up to meet his touch through the fabric. She pressed back against him, shivering with desire. She’d expected him to be rough, in a hurry, but this was the opposite. On the other hand, it was effective, the teasing touch making her hotter and hungrier than a quick grope would have. He knows me well.

  His hand slid lower then, as he nibbled at the back of her neck under her hair, seeking out the sensitive spots there. She was so distracted by the teasing of his teeth making her breath catch in her throat that she didn’t realize one hand was circling her mound until it had been going on for some time. “Unbutton your jeans,” he said to her.

  She did, and a moment later she was kissing him over her own shoulder as his hand slid into her panties. “God, I’ve missed you.”

  One finger was just starting to slip into her wettest place when the whistle came.

  “Three outs, and I’ll be back,” he breathed in her ear, and he was gone.

  Casey leaned against the wall, panting and wondering what Tyler was going to say on ESPN if he pitched a no-hitter.

  She stayed in the nook, too flushed to risk being seen just now, wondering if she should text Missy. In the end, she just stayed there, wondering how they were going to manage it in the small space and short amount of time. Should she look for another spot? But then, what if she missed him?

  The sound of his cleats hurrying down the hallway sent a thrill through her.

  He kissed her then, his arms tight and urgent around her but his mouth soft and coaxing. “I’ve never needed you more than right now,” he whispered.

  “Let’s do it,” she answered.

  He pushed her jeans and panties down to her knees and turned her around. She heard the sound of his belt buckle opening behind her, then something hitting the floor. One arm held her close against him while the other hand sought out her wetness again, this time from behind.

  “Are you sure this is going to work?”

  “It wouldn’t if my dick was too small,” he said matter-of-factly. With that, he pushed it between her thighs, and she felt the length of him rubbing between her lips. “Oh, jeez, this feels pretty damn good right like this.”

  “Yeah, for me, too,” she said. “But does it count for The Streak?”

  “Probably not. Lean forward a little, brace your arms on the wall.”

  Casey did as he bent his knees more, spreading his feet to lower himself and then pushing up into her. “Holy fuck.”

  She squeezed him with her inside muscles. “Nah, we’d have to be in a church for that.”

  They both fell silent then as he began moving in and out of her. Casey picked up his rhythm easily and pushed back into each thrust.

  The next thing she felt was his fingers on her clit, too, and she pressed her lips together hard to keep from crying out. How could she be this close already?

  “Come on, Casey, want to feel you come, lover. I love you so much, so very much… ”

  She came around the cock inside her, spasming and squeezing and bucking against him, while he fucked her hard, then harder, trying to reach release himself.

  “Oh shit.” He stopped suddenly.

  “What?” she asked.

  “The whistle.” He was already disengaged from her and buckling his belt. She felt entirely too empty and cold now that his body wasn’t pressed against hers. “Wel
l, this is it. Either I do it, or I get sent to the showers. You better get cleaned up, Case.”

  She turned just in time to see him adjusting his pants one last time and then he was gone, sprinting down the hallway and sliding on his cleats on the concrete until he reached the fake grass part.

  On the floor at her feet was his athletic cup.

  * * * *

  She knocked on the clubhouse door again, more politely this time, and the attendant let her use the restroom. In here they had the game on TVs in the corners of the room and she managed to get cleaned up and her hair fixed before Tyler had gotten the first batter out. Yes, good, two more! she thought.

  Then she realized there was no reason for her to stay up here any longer. She ran down the tunnel to the dugout, hanging back just inside the entrance. From here she could see only the upper half of Tyler’s body and she couldn’t see the batter at all, but it didn’t matter. The coach leaning on the steps turned and looked at her, then gave her a little wink and a smile. It made her blush, but she smiled back.

  A pinch hitter was announced. She saw Tyler scowl and walk around the back of the mound, picking up the little white sack of rosin there and slamming it back down.

  “Come on, Hammond,” the coach shouted. “Don’t make me go to Rigney again, you pussy bastard! Put this one in the can already!” Then he turned back to Casey. “Um, pardon my French.”

  “That’s okay,” she said.

  Tyler set himself on the mound. Casey held her breath. She still couldn’t see the batter, but she heard the sound of the ball hitting the bat, a loud crack, and the whole stadium seemed to be shaking with people cheering and going wild. The coach was gone. He’d been on his way to the mound before the home run had actually left the ballpark. To Casey’s surprise, Tyler was grinning like a fool, though, shaking his head as he handed the ball to the coach.

  He practically sprinted off the mound, grabbed her around the waist as he bounded up into the tunnel. “Easy come, easy go!” he said as he hurried her through the clubhouse door.

 

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