Home Run Baby: A Sports Romance

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Home Run Baby: A Sports Romance Page 53

by Tabatha Kiss


  “I am.”

  “Apparently not.” He turns towards the door. “You were given a perfectly reasonable set of ethical guidelines; guidelines that you have violated and I can’t ignore that.”

  “Dr. Zach, please.”

  “I’m sorry, Rose,” he says, his voice dry and cold. “I’ll take over the class from here.”

  I stand still, barely breathing as he walks out into the hallway.

  Nope, I was wrong. This feels a little more like rock bottom.

  “Rose…”

  I look up to see John standing in the doorway and I shake my head at him. “No,” I say, grabbing my things. “Go away.”

  He steps into the room. “I am so—”

  “Don’t you dare,” I seethe. “No, you don’t get to keep apologizing to me. I don’t think I can take another one.”

  “I should have kept my mouth shut—”

  “Kind of like right now.”

  “Rose—” He moves in front of me. “What can I do? Please. Tell me what you need and I’ll do it.”

  I swallow the tears down but the lump builds even larger in my throat. “Actually, you know what? There is something you can do, John. You can disappear.”

  “You don’t mean that.”

  “I don’t? Look around you. I’ve lost everything. I’ve lost my job, my reputation — hell, an argument could be made about my innocence, too, probably—”

  “Rose—”

  “I’ve lost everything because of you, but look at you.” I gesture at him. “Not a fucking scratch.”

  He shakes his head once. “That’s not true.”

  “You get your trifecta. You get your football championship. You experience no real consequence for any of this at all. No one’s stepping up to take anything from you when you’re the one that started this. Does that seem fair to you?”

  “No,” he says.

  I nod slowly and a tear falls down my cheek. “You can disappear now, John.”

  “Rose…”

  I ignore him and walk outside into the hallway, refusing to stop until I march out of Prism Hall into the quad. He must have gotten the message. Good. The last thing I want is to bicker with him in the middle of campus.

  “Whoa, baby!”

  I stop and look up to see Douglas Floyd’s fucking smirk.

  He raises his sunglasses and sets them on his head while he looks me up and down. “Rose, you sure are hot when you’re pissed.”

  Rage boils within me and my reflexes snap. I jolt forward and kick upward with my knee, nailing him hard in the groin before I even realize what I’m doing.

  Douglas doubles over onto the sidewalk, grunting as pain fires through him. Onlookers cringe. Some laugh and whip out their phones to snap a picture.

  “Fuck you, Douglas,” I murmur as I pass around him.

  The crowd makes a path for me, slinking back in fear but I don’t blame them. I wouldn’t want to cross paths with me either right now.

  ***

  I thump up the stairs of my apartment building, each step feeling heavier than the last. My short term memory has officially gone bye-bye, as I don’t quite remember how I got home. I run on autopilot, pausing as I arrive at my door and reaching into my bag to sift through the bottom to locate my keys.

  The door swings open and I jump as terror twists my nerves.

  “Surprise!”

  I blink and grip my chest. “Holy shit…” My mirror image looks back at me, except this one is missing glasses. “Daisy?!”

  My sister grins and lunges forward, throwing her arms around me in a tight embrace.

  “What are you doing here?” I laugh.

  “Are you kidding?” she asks, pulling me inside. “Some asshole hurt my sister. I dropped everything as fast as I could and hopped on the first flight out here.”

  “You didn’t have to do that…”

  “It’s already done. Now…” She raises her closed fists. “Point me at him.”

  I collapse against her again, burying my face in her shoulder as tears finally spill out.

  “Okay… I guess I arrived just in time,” she says, patting my back. “What happened?”

  “I just got fired,” I say, my voice muffled.

  “Because of John?”

  “Because of John... and me, I guess.”

  She deflates and leads me to the couch. “Sit down. I’ll make us some coffee.”

  I fall against the pillows, hugging them tight. “There’s some whiskey in the fridge!”

  “I’ll make us some Irish coffee, then...”

  Chapter 23

  John

  I pause, trying to remember how many drinks I’ve had but I just can’t. Usually, this means I should stop drinking. This is especially true tonight. The final game is tomorrow. I should be downing protein shakes and carbs to fuel up in preparation but that just doesn’t quite give me the same buzz I need to make it through every hour of the day.

  As always, the last pre-game party of the year is the largest. The house itself lurches on its foundation and I don’t envy the cleanup Ty and Grant will have to do tomorrow, but it’s usually worth it. Usually. Tonight, I just can’t bring myself to give a shit.

  Grant walks up and lays a hand on my shoulder. I prepare for some of his unique brand of sass, but to my surprise, he says nothing. He just offers me a kind nod before slipping another cup of beer into my empty hand.

  “Thanks, man,” I mutter, taking a sip.

  He wanders off and I sink a little deeper into the couch while I stare at my phone. No returned texts. No emails. Rose wasn’t messing around when she told me to disappear. She’s officially crossed me out of her life. Denying my existence, as she put it before.

  As my fingers swipe and tap out another text, a shape rushes through my peripheral vision. Short, blonde. It’s so common and familiar that I can’t help but twitch in its direction.

  I shake it off and take another drink, staring hard into the emerging bottom of my cup. As I lower it down, she passes in front of me again across the house and stops as soon as her eyes lock on me.

  I squint at her and all her features come into focus.

  “Rose?” I mutter, excitement building in me.

  She steps towards me as I stand up from the couch to try and embrace her.

  Suddenly, her features look tainted. My thoughts work slowly through my buzzed state but the obvious conclusion finally strikes me as she halts in front of me. Either Rose has started wearing contact lenses and skinny jeans and shrunk about an inch in height or this is—

  Her palm strikes my cheek, firing a deep pain through my eye socket and I clench my jaw.

  “Okay…” I say, rubbing my face. “You are not Rose.”

  She smiles. “Head of the class, Johnny.”

  I look into her eyes — the exact same eyes as Rose’s but each one is nearly hidden behind a thick ring of black eyeliner. “It’s nice to meet you, Daisy.”

  She stretches her petite stature as she gazes around the room. “Is there somewhere more private we can go to converse?”

  “Sure.” I gesture for her to follow me down the hall, dodging the gasped expressions of those nearby.

  So, this is Rose’s twin sister. Strangely, I pictured her to be more… you know, identical, but Daisy seems more like an evil doppelganger than a straight genetic duplicate. I glance back occasionally to make sure she’s not readying a shiv to shank me with but she just glares up at me with those hateful, black eyes.

  I lead her to the rear of the house and push open the door to Junior’s old bedroom at the end of the hall. Thankfully, it’s empty. I guess we caught it between random hook-ups.

  Daisy kicks the door closed behind us and glares around with an upturned nose. “Smells like… ugh, never mind.” She leans against the dresser, just barely touching it, while I plop down on the bed with my beer still clenched in one hand.

  “So, what brings you all the way out here, Daisy?”

  “Oh, I just love the Mid
west this time of year,” she sneers. “The leaves change, the birds migrate, and — oh, yeah — it’s football season, so jerks like you line up to hurt my sister.”

  “I didn’t mean to hurt Rose…” I say, emptying the rest of my drink down my throat and tossing the cup aside. “It was all just a…”

  “A big misunderstanding?” she asks, smiling with anger. “An accident? Like you just tripped and fell into the middle of a giant douchebag challenge?”

  “A mistake,” I say. “It was a stupid, selfish mistake that I’ve already apologized for but I’ll have to live with it.”

  Daisy stares me down. “Rose…” she bites her lip. “How can I put this? Okay... Rose is a delicate flower. She’s fragile and sometimes needs to have the thorns trimmed away so she doesn’t accidentally hurt herself. You following me so far, quarterback?”

  “Halfback.”

  “Yeah, I don’t care. I am a fucking daisy,” she continues. “I grow around the rose. I compliment the rose. I might be smaller, less elegant, and occasionally crazy, but if you try to bring harm to said rose, I will spread like a virus and fuck up your flower beds. You get me?”

  I squint. “What am I in this metaphor?”

  “Depends,” she pushes off the dresser and steps closer, “you can either be the nice, comfy flower bed that nurtures her or you can be the thorn I pluck away. It’s up to you.”

  “So...” I furrow my brow, “you’re here to pluck me?”

  She pauses. “Kind of.”

  “Or... If I’m the flower bed, won’t I also be nurturing you?”

  “Whatever. It’s not a perfect metaphor. I’m improvising.” She waves her hands. “Forget about the flower stuff and work with me here, halfback.”

  “I understand what you’re saying, Daisy, and I admire your charisma.”

  She nods. “Thank you.”

  “I just don’t think redemption is an option on this one.”

  “And you’re probably right. You fucked up. I’ve never seen Rose this pissed off before. At anything.”

  I shrug. “Well, there you go.”

  “But…” she gives a half smile, “I’ve also never seen her as happy as when she was with you. And I’ve seen my sister fall hard. When she gets a crush, it literally crushes her, but she always got back up again. This time is different.”

  My chest sinks. “Is she okay?”

  “No. Her heart is broken and she lost her job — both of which are more or less your fault.”

  “I know.”

  “But,” she sighs, “I’m taking partial responsibility for this problem. I was the one that pushed her to break the rules and go out with you in the first place.”

  “Why?”

  “Because that’s what I would have done. However, contrary to what our DNA might suggest, Rose and I are two vastly different people.”

  “Yeah, I can see that.” I stand up off the bed. “So, what am I supposed to do? She won’t see me. She won’t return any of my calls or my texts or my emails…”

  “Shit, I don’t know,” she shrugs. “If you’re as smart as she claims you are, you’ll find some other way to get her attention and fix this. Make it right. And fast. There’s only so many tears a girl can shed before the petals wither and she dies of thirst.”

  I pause with confusion. “I thought we were done with the flower metaphor.”

  She cringes. “Once I start, it’s kinda hard to stop.”

  I nod. “You really think she’ll forgive me?”

  “It’s what I’d do,” she murmurs, “but… you know. Rose.”

  “Yeah…” The guilt in me burns a little more. “Rose.”

  Daisy inhales a deep breath. “I like you, halfback. You’re funny, oddly charming, and smoking hot.”

  “… Thank you.”

  “But Rose needs more than that. She deserves more.”

  “I agree.”

  “So…” She spins around and yanks the door open. “Be more.”

  I stand still as she steps out into the hall. “Thanks, Daisy.”

  “Oh, don’t thank me,” she says, raising a brow. “I was never even here.”

  “Right…” I chuckle, understanding her meaning.

  She gives a final nod before disappearing into the crowd.

  Rose deserves more. Of course, she does. Rose deserves the fucking universe handed to her on a golden platter but I really am just a big, dumb jock. Always have been. I don’t deserve her. I never did but I took what I wanted anyway and now I have no idea how to even begin fixing this.

  I move through the house, keeping my head down as I make my way towards the front door. Whatever the answer is, I’m sure as hell not going to find it in here, surrounded by booze and women throwing themselves at me. Women like—

  “You look upset, John.”

  I feel her hand grasp my arm as I step outside onto the porch, gently tugging at me to come back inside. Stephanie flashes a soft wink and presses her chest against the door frame to pooch out her cleavage a little more.

  I slide my arm free. “Maybe.”

  “Are you leaving?” she asks, following me across the porch and down the stairs. “I’ll come with you… give you some company.”

  “No, thanks, Steph.”

  She frowns, letting out a thick, twisted sigh as she slams her heel into the grass. “Goddammit.”

  I pause at her sudden outburst. “What?”

  Her face tilts with a mean pout. “Junior’s married, Ty’s gay, and you’re…”

  “Preoccupied.”

  “Whatever the hell that means,” she says. “What’s a girl supposed to do to get a little dick around here?”

  I laugh. “You have my sympathies, Stephanie.”

  “That doesn’t help me.”

  “Actually…” I look her up and down as sobering clarity takes hold of me. “I think we can help each other.”

  She squints. “How?”

  “Do you know Dr. Payton Zach?”

  “The chemistry guy?”

  “Yeah,” I nod.

  “Oh, I know Dr. Payton Zach…” she smirks. “I know Dr. Payton Zach very well.”

  I fucking knew it.

  “Really?” I seethe.

  “Hey, you aren’t the only one that went for their trifecta this year.”

  “Kudos, Ms. Gomez.”

  She curtsies. “Thank you.”

  “Would you be able to… trifecta Dr. Zach again for me?”

  “Maybe.” She raises a brow. “Why?”

  “Because he’s a hypocritical jackass and I need to prove it,” I say. “A few incriminating selfies with you should do the trick.”

  She tilts her head. “But what do I get out of it?”

  I shrug. “His dick, mostly.”

  “Ahh…” she nods. “Let me see what I can do.”

  “Thank you, Stephanie.”

  She pulls her phone out of her pocket and squeezes my shoulder as she passes around me. “Bye bye, John.”

  I nod, feeling the edges of epiphany rattle my knees.

  Dr. Zach is just the tip of the problem iceberg. I have no doubts that Stephanie will work her magic on that one but now I have the very real issue of getting Rose’s attention again. A banana sure as hell won’t work this time — not that I can get close enough to give one to her anyway.

  But if I know Rose Hawthorne like I think I do, then there’s only one place she’ll be tomorrow afternoon.

  I have one shot at this. She’ll be watching, along with the rest of the college football lovers of the world.

  Might as well show them what I got.

  Chapter 24

  Rose

  Daisy and I arrive at the football stadium for the final game. Honestly, I have a little trouble even being here; torn in two by the love of the game and the hatred of the player but Daisy, of all people, insisted we show up. I guess she’s right. John’s already ruined enough of me already. I can’t let him ruin football, too.

  “You know what you n
eed?” she asks as we sit down in the bleachers. “A vacation.”

  “Ya think?”

  “Seriously, you should come back with me. A little east coast air will do you some good.”

  “I have to finish up the semester,” I point out.

  “Fine. Winter break, then.”

  “Winter on the east coast sucks.”

  She exaggerates an exhale. “Okay, fine. Summer.”

  I nod. “That might be good.”

  “Damn right it’ll be good,” she says, throwing her arm over my shoulder. “Because summer is baseball season.”

  “I walked right into that, didn’t I?”

  “Ohh, this is gonna be awesome.” I can see the wheels spinning in her head already. “We’ll go to every game, eat our weight in hot dogs, maybe get a second basemen or two in our dugouts…”

  “Gross.”

  “You’ll love it and it’ll make us even for this.”

  I roll my eyes. “It was your idea to come today.”

  “A little closure is a good thing, Rose.” She lays a palm on her chest. “I’m just trying to help.”

  “I guess.”

  “Hey, Rose…”

  I look up, hearing my name on a familiar voice, and I instantly regret coming here again.

  Dr. Zach stands over me, his eyes shifting between me and my twin as he smiles politely.

  “Hey, Dr. Zach,” I say. “You remember my sister, Daisy.”

  Daisy keeps her dark eyes on him as if she’s memorizing his features for a collection of voodoo dolls and he gives her an uncomfortable nod.

  “Of course.” He clears his throat and looks at me instead. “May I speak to you for a moment?”

  I inhale a deep breath. “Okay.”

  Daisy pats my knee in support as I stand up and I follow Dr. Zach to the edge of the bleachers.

  I fold my arms and stand still, bracing myself for whatever the hell he wants now. “What’s up?” I ask.

  “Rose…” he pauses, fidgeting in his shoes. “You are an excellent student.”

  I nod. “Okay.”

  “One of the best, really,” he continues. “And a terrific TA.”

  I stare at him, feeling a little worse than before.

 

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