by L A Cotton
“Club policy is no violence. I should bar you. But seeing as you came away looking worse and you were sticking up for your woman, this is your first, and only, warning.”
“Thanks.”
He made a few notes on a notepad and left us to it.
“Oh God, Keefer. Your face.” Tears pooled in Sharn’s eyes, and I pulled her back into me, wrapping my arms around her and breathing in her vanilla perfume. Calm spread through me, dousing the rage coursing through my veins, as she sobbed into my chest. “I'm so sorry.”
I tilted her chin up so that I could see her face. “Sharn, stop. It wasn't your fault. Come on, let’s get out of here.”
The ride home was a little awkward. I was silent, trying to focus on staying calm. My whole face started to throb, and I could feel the bruise swelling around my eye. As we got close to her neighborhood, the pit in my stomach churned and I realized that I didn't want to say goodnight to her. Not after the fight. I didn't want her to go home, only to overanalyze and worry. I wanted to keep her close. “Come home with me?”
She nodded, and it was good enough for me.
We pulled into the parking lot of my complex, and I cut the engine. The tension was so thick that I felt a little choked. I needed to know what she was thinking.
“Sharn, I-”
She reached over and placed a finger on my lip. “Don't. Just take me inside.”
My heart stuttered as I led her to my apartment. I mentally tried to picture how clean the place was. Had I left dishes in the sink? Was my bed made? Shit. Was she going to stay over?
All my worries melted away when I pulled her inside and she threw herself at me. I caught her and slammed us into the wall. Her lips gently caressed my sore face, and when she pulled back to look at me through her hooded eyes, I noticed a red stain on her lip.
“Shit, I'm bleeding.”
Chapter 15
~ Sharn ~
I brought a finger to my lip and wiped off the smeared blood. I had been too shaken up, too desperate to kiss him, to notice the trickle of red under Keefer’s eye. All I could think about was the way he'd stood up to Deacon—for me, and then got a beating by him and his two friends—because of me. My head hurt just thinking about it.
Keefer looked down at me, his blue eyes searching mine. His right eye was swollen just above the cut, and he had a split lip and grazing on his cheek. I saw one of Deacon's friends punch him in the side, too; it must've hurt.
“Do you have a first aid kit?”
He nodded and set off deeper into the apartment. I hadn't even had a chance to take in my surroundings. It was small; a living room and kitchenette, with three doors off a short hallway. Keefer’s love of baseball was everywhere, but it was tidy and everything was organized.
Keefer came out of one of the doors carrying a small first aid box, and I motioned for him to sit at one of the breakfast bar stools. He handed me the box and I unpacked wipes, gauze, and tape.
I brushed his hair away from his face. It was almost long enough to tuck behind his ear. “This might sting,” I said as I tore open the antiseptic wipe.
He clamped a hand around my waist, pulling me closer as I gently cleaned his cuts and grazes. “Fuck,” he hissed under his breath.
“Sorry.” I folded a piece of gauze into a small square and taped it into place. His lip and cheek would heal without being covered. “There, all better.”
He brought his hand to my cheek and ran his thumb over my lip. His lips followed and he feathered kisses along my mouth and jaw. I fisted my hands into his shirt and enjoyed the feel of his mouth on my skin. My stomach flipped and I wanted more, but I pulled back, trying to hold on to my reasoning. “Keefer, we should talk, about earl-”
His lips claimed mine once more, and I gave in. He rose from the stool and scooped me up in his arms. I let out a little squeal at the shock of him lifting me off the floor. My heels dropped from my feet, clattering on the laminate floor as he carried me down the hallway to the last door. He kicked it open and flicked a switch on the wall, before dropping me to my feet and walking toward the dresser on the far wall. As he moved across the room, I noticed his fingers working the buttons of his shirt, and my heart beat rapidly with anticipation. He opened the top drawer and pulled out a jersey, and I smiled to myself. He turned to me as he let the shirt fall from his body, and my eyes zeroed in on his perfect chest. His six-pack was tanned and chiseled, the sexy v disappearing in the jeans slung low on his waist. My mouth felt dry and I licked my lips.
A smirk played on Keefer’s lips as he stalked closer to me, his eyes hooded with lust. “Come here.” He extended his hand to me and I stepped toward him. He enveloped me in his arms and my face nestled into chest. The height difference had us at a disadvantage, but I loved how safe and protected he made me feel.
“Thank you, for tonight. No one has ever stuck up for me like that.”
“Sharn, I'll never let anyone hurt you.” He walked us back to the bed, and my legs hit the wooden frame. Keefer pushed my shoulders gently, and I fell down onto the bed.
“Keefer, wha-what are you doing?”
He eyes burned into me. “Has anyone ever told you that you talk a lot?”
I tilted my head to the side. “It has been known.”
He face grew serious and panic flooded me. Was he going to stop whatever was about to happen?
“Listen, there's some stuff. Stuff I need to tell you. But I don't want to talk tonight. I just want to crawl into bed and sleep.”
My face paled and I shifted uncomfortably. “Oh right, hmm...should I call a cab?”
He shook his head and laughed. “Sharn, I mean with you.” His face grew serious again. “If you want to stay?”
“Phew. That would've been embarrassing.”
He handed me the jersey. “I can't wait to see you in this.” He wiggled his eyebrows and I let out a nervous laugh, before he directed me to the bathroom.
I changed out of my dress and pulled on the jersey, inhaling his smell. It melted my insides. After finding his toothpaste in the wall cabinet, I used my finger to clean my teeth. The girl staring back at me in the mirror had rosy cheeks and swollen lips. The butterflies stirring in my stomach were making me feel a little queasy—that and all the wine I'd been drinking all night.
The old Sharn would have seduced Keefer by now, but I didn't want to give him the wrong impression. I didn't want this to be just a one-night thing. But he had been the one to say he just wanted to sleep—maybe that was all he meant.
“Hi,” I said coyly, as I walked back into his room.
He was in bed, sitting up against the headboard. His gaze roamed down my body, and fire ignited in his eyes when he reached my legs, which were peeking out under the oversized jersey. I felt naked, standing there with him staring at me like he wanted to devour me.
“Come on.” He patted the bed next to him and I crept over, the butterflies picking up pace.
I climbed onto the bed, but before I had a chance to right myself, Keefer pounced on me. Rolling me underneath him, he hovered over me and looked at me. He hit a light to the side of the headboard and the room plunged into darkness. The light from the hallway shone through the door, enough that we could see each other. The way it reflected off his chest, I couldn't resist running my hands over his firm muscles. His whole body went rigid and he gulped. My heart was beating so fast that I felt sure it was going to explode. He looked at me with such sincerity and emotion; it was a little intense. “What are you thinking?”
It seemed like such an odd question to ask at that moment. “That I want you to kiss me.”
And he did.
He was careful not to put his full weight on me, but I could feel him against me. His hardness pressed into me and I squirmed as he rubbed against me.
“Fuck,” he hissed.
His lips closed on mine and his tongue swept into my mouth, dancing with mine. His hair brushed my face, tickling me, and I laughed. It caused him to pull back a little and smi
le. Damn, he was gorgeous. And he was here—with me. He peppered kisses across my jaw, up my neck and to my ear. Then he whispered, “Goodnight, Sharn,” and rolled over me, nudging me onto my side. He pulled me back so that I was perfectly nestled into him.
We lay there for a few silent minutes, only the sound of our hearts beating. He relaxed behind me and his breathing evened out. I was wrapped in Keefer Smith's arms, in his bed, and he was asleep.
~
“Mmm, that feels really good.” I smiled as Keefer nibbled my ear while his hands stroked my bare legs.
He murmured into my hair, “I could get used to this.”
It was on my lips—to ask about him dropping the girlfriend word to the security man—but I didn't want the ruin the moment. And he always found a way to avoid my questions. So instead, I asked, “What time is it?”
“Just after nine. Do you have plans today?” He nuzzled my shoulder and my skin electrified.
“No, why?”
“I was hoping that you’d spend the day with me?”
It was music to my ears that he wanted to spend more time with me. I hoped it meant he wanted us to start to get to know each other better.
“I’d love to.”
He rolled me onto my back and leaned over me, planting a kiss on my forehead. “Breakfast in ten? Get ready; help yourself to whatever you need. We can run by yours to grab clean clothes before we head out.” He jumped out of bed and left me to it.
I made my way to the bathroom and washed up, as best I could. At least he had a truck and I wouldn’t have to do a walk of shame.
Five minutes later, I joined him at the small breakfast bar. “Mmm, smells good.”
“Don’t get too excited, it’s just pancakes and syrup.”
“My favorite.”
He piled two plates with pancakes, shoved one toward me, and handed me the syrup. We ate in comfortable silence, stealing glances at each other. He was dressed in his trademark Yankees jersey and baseball cap, with gray track pants and sneakers. He wolfed down three pancakes before I’d even finished one.
“Wow, you can eat.”
He laughed. “You should see me after a game.”
“Wait. You play? As well as coach?”
“Now and again. Come on, let’s go.” He passed me my heels and I slid them onto my feet before we made our way out of his apartment and to his truck.
After a quick stop at my house, we were heading toward our destination and I had no idea where that was. When I asked, Keefer just said ‘you’ll find out soon enough.’ When he turned onto the FL-24-W toward Jacksonville, I asked again. But he still refused to let me in on the secret.
“You look cute when you’re sulking.”
“I am not sulking, I’m just concerned. For all I know, you could be kidnapping me and I have absolutely no idea where to tell my rescuers to search for me.”
His laughter filled the cab. I wasn’t that stupid; I had left Dad a note telling him that I’d be out for the day but that I had my cell on me if he needed me.
“How’s your face?” He was sporting a huge, ugly, purple bruise under his eye and a nasty-looking cut on his lip, but he just shrugged. “I’ll live.”
He was focused on the road, so I turned up the radio. Bruno Mars “Locked out of Heaven” played out around us. I could relate to the words. Since Benson, I’d been looking for that connection—that spark. And I was pretty sure that I’d found it with Keefer. There was still some way to go to get him to trust me enough to open up, but today was a start. Every time he looked at me, time seemed to stop and it was as if he was trying to tell me everything through his eyes.
“Sharn…” I stirred. “Sharn…we’re almost here.”
“Wha-what? Please tell me I didn’t fall to sleep? How embarrassing.” I buried my head in my arm.
“Hey, it’s fine. Besides, you’re cute when you sleep. You murmur.”
My cheeks flushed. “I do not.”
He smirked and laughed.
We were in Jacksonville, the road signs told me as much. I caught signs for JP Memorial Park and turned to face Keefer. “Are you taking me to watch baseball?”
“Maybe.”
Excitement swept through me. Pre-Keefer, I hadn’t given sports the time of day, but he was rubbing off on me.
He pulled the truck into the small stadium and found an empty space. The crowd was just starting to amass. Keefer opened the door for me and I hopped down. He pressed a kiss to my forehead and took my hand in his. We fell into step with the other fans; the air alive with energy.
When we reached the turnstiles, Keefer pulled out his wallet and handed me a ticket. I frowned at the single stub. “Go find your seat. I'll see you in a while.” He squeezed my hand and stepped back, disappearing into the crowds.
It wasn't until an old man told me to move my skinny butt that I broke out of my bewilderment. Keefer had just left me, in the middle of some stadium, with a ticket to a game I knew nothing about. He was up to something.
The line for the turnstile swallowed me up and carried me forward until it was time to hand over my ticket. The steward ushered me in the direction of my seat, which turned out to be one of the best in the house. I squeezed between the two burly-looking men who eyed me with suspicion. “Are you lost, little lady?”
“Umm, nope.” I waved my half of the ticket in his face and he just shrugged.
I scanned the field for any clue of who was playing. The scoreboard informed me that it was the Jacksonville Indians versus the Jacksonville Freedom. Both names meant nothing to me. The almost full stadium erupted into cheers when the teams entered the field. It was a lot smaller than the stadiums on the TV, but the crowd still made a crazy noise and I felt a little overwhelmed…and confused. Where in the hell was Keefer?
As I watched the teams warm up, my question was answered. I would have recognized his dirty blond hair anywhere. He was standing with one of the teams—the one wearing navy jerseys with light blue writing. He was playing. How had I not guessed?
The teams tossed to call first bat, but I couldn't take my eyes of Keefer. He moved with such confidence and precision, and as the teams took their starting positions, I was entranced. Keefer walked out to the pitcher’s mound and the crowd chanted. It was hard not to get swept up in the atmosphere. Patting down my pocket for my phone, I pulled it out to take a quick picture. Dad wouldn't believe that I'd watched an actual ballgame. My phone was flashing, informing me that I had a text.
Keefer: I hope you enjoy the game. See you after
~
The game had been one of the most exciting things I'd ever witnessed. I had absolutely no clue who was winning, or how teams even scored points, but the buzz in the air was addictive. By the end, I was high fiving the two guys next to me. Watching Keefer pitch was something else. The sheer power in his arm was undeniable. His eyes searched me out on a couple of occasions, or at least, I think they did. I couldn't wait to see him and tell him how great it'd been.
I filed out of the stadium with the crowd and retraced my steps back to the truck. I'd texted Keefer to tell him that was where I'd meet him. But he was already there, changed back into his clothes from earlier. As he spotted me, his face lit up, and my stomach fluttered.
“Oh my God, Keefer, that was great. Who knew I'd have love for the game.”
He pulled me into a hug. “I'm glad you liked it. I missed you.”
“I missed you, too, but watching you out there wasn't all that bad.” I winked up at him.
We climbed into the truck and I fastened my belt. “I can't believe you play. On a team. In Jacksonville. How is that again?”
He laughed. “It was an accident, really. We did some work over this way a couple of years ago, and I helped out with the minor league. Freedom was having trouble recruiting so I offered to stand in. Officially, I’m on the roster to make up their numbers. Unofficially, I play when I can.”
“Well, you should. You were good. And I know nothing about the game.”<
br />
“I wanted you to know something...about me. Baseball is a huge part of my life.”
I grinned. He was starting to open up, and his gesture had been perfect. “Thank you. It means a lot.”
Before driving back, we stopped to grab something to eat from Taco Bell, and it was almost four by the time we hit the road. My chest started to feel hollow—I didn’t want the day to end.
An hour and a half later, we pulled up in front of my house. Dad’s Jeep was in the driveway, and Keefer’s face paled. I reached over and squeezed his hand. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to invite you in to meet my dad. It’s a little too soon for that.”
His frown softened, and he pulled me into him. “I’ll be counting down till Tuesday.”
My heart plummeted—he had no plans to see me again until school? It was a little irrational, after spending almost twenty-four hours together, but I didn’t want to wait that long. He brushed his lips over mine and smiled against them. “I’ll text you.”
He watched me as I climbed out of the cab and walked to the porch. Then I watched as he pulled away and drove off. It hurt to watch him leave because it felt like he was taking a tiny piece of my heart with him.
Chapter 16
~ Keefer ~
“Hey, man, what's up?” I found Zac at our usual spot, over near the tables. Morris and Jase were shooting some pool. After dropping Sharn off, I'd headed straight over to meet the guys.
“So...”
I slumped down onto a stool and picked up the beer waiting for me. “I'm in trouble.”
He shook his head and laughed. “I never thought I'd see the day that you were getting twisted over some girl. Especially her.”
“Who's twisted over a girl?” Morris approached us, with Jase trailing behind, and Zac looked at me for permission to tell them. I shrugged; they'd find out eventually, it might as well be now.
“Our boy here has a thing going with Sharn Macer.”
Morris clutched his heart and pretended to keel over. “Say it ain't so, man.”