Spring Training

by KB Winters

  I squeezed my eyes closed. He was right, but damn it, I wished he wasn’t. It was easier to argue with him than it would be to keep getting close to him and try to keep my heart under lock and key. He was abrasive, demanding, arrogant, and cocky, but there was something else lurking under the bravado and ego. And that part of him had my attention and I knew that once I uncovered it—I’d want to keep it all to myself.

  Which was probably a big mistake. It wasn’t wise to want things that you couldn’t have. It would only lead to heartache and disappointment.

  “I have to work,” I said, my tone casual but with enough force, I hoped he’d back off. I couldn’t hold up my defenses forever.

  “Chelsea, why do you insist on making this so difficult?”

  “I’m not, Cody. I’ve actually made it very simple. You wanted a night with me, and I wanted one with you. We don’t need to go any farther.”

  “We don’t need to, but why the hell shouldn’t we?”

  I opened my mouth, but there weren’t any words to answer his question. He chuckled and I frowned. He knew he had me. “I have work to do, Cody. I’m sure I’ll see you at a game or with Robby and Paris one of these days.”

  “Chelsea—”

  “Goodbye.”

  I clicked off of the call before he could convince me to part ways with my sanity and draw me back into his web. It was hard enough to get him out of my head. One more night in his arms and I’d be lost for good.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Cody

  “Slippery little minx…” I chuckled to myself and set the phone aside. That was fine. It was all a part of the game and I knew the cards she was holding in her hand. It was only a matter of time before I could get her to fold.

  I pushed up from the hot tub where I’d been warming up after an ice treatment on my shoulder. It was all part of the deal. It was my job to go out and lay down fire on the field and then when I got off the field, a team of people worked to put me back together. As nice as the hot tub was, I was ready to get back to my room where I could continue to explore the nasty thoughts about Chelsea that I’d been batting around all day. They would require some privacy. Maybe I’d take a picture of myself lying in bed, shirt off, abs flexed, and send it to her with a little note. Give her a little something to dream about.

  I grinned as I remembered her confessing, in a throaty, breathless voice, that she’d fantasized about me after we first met. The idea of her slipping her fingers under the covers, pleasuring herself late in the night, with my name on her lips. Fuck that was sexy…

  “Wright!”

  I hurried to wrap a towel around my waist and then stripped my shorts off underneath. My bulge popped, creating a slight tent in the towel, but I didn’t care. Robby wasn’t gonna be staring at my cock. At least he better not be…I’d kick his fuckin’ ass.

  Judging by the smile on his face as he got lost in a pair of stripper’s double D’s the night before, he was as straight as an arrow.

  “Hey, man,” he said, catching up to me. “You all done here? A bunch of us are getting on the bus to go out.”

  “Nah, man. I’m gonna go hit the hay.” I looked at him, remembering what Chelsea had said. She’d put her money on him and Paris get busy on video chat all night. “You’re not gonna go call your woman?”

  Robby glanced down at his feet. “She didn’t take my call.”

  “Oh.” I shook my head. “Shit. I guess Chelsea misjudged that one…”

  “Chelsea?” His chin shot back up and he arched a brow at me.

  “Just got off the phone with her.” I held up my hand holding the phone and waved it back and forth a couple of times. “She went to lunch with Paris today.”

  “I see. What’d Paris say about me?”

  I laughed and slapped him on the shoulder. “Go back to the hotel and call her yourself.”

  “She didn’t answer. I just fuckin’ said that.”

  I leaned in. “Then try again. Damn, man. I’m no love doctor but this seems pretty basic.”

  Robby grinned and punched me on the shoulder. “I like that. Love doctor.”

  I snorted. It was a completely inapplicable title. “Let’s just hope some sports gossip mag didn’t catch you taking shots from that stripper’s tits last night…”

  Robby laughed. “She would just be pissed I didn’t bring her with me. She loves strippers.”

  “Damn. Now I see why you put a ring on it!”

  Robby cracked up as he started out of the locker room. “I’m gonna go get a drink and then I’ll head back to the hotel.”

  “All right, man. Take it easy.” I waved as he left and then crossed over to where my shit was stashed. I dressed and glanced around at the empty room. I’d lingered in the hot tub, talking to Chelsea, and in the meantime all the other players and staff had cleared out. It was almost eerily quiet.

  Until…

  I turned at the tap of stiletto heels and my jaw dropped open. Summer strut across the room, a megawatt smile firmly in place on her delicate face, and a sway to her hips that could only mean one thing. Her seventy-year-old, millionaire boyfriend couldn’t keep it up and she wanted to get good and fucked.

  Shit.

  “What the fuck are you doing here?” I growled, thankful that I’d slipped into my jeans before she arrived. Though she could have been lurking in the doorway watching the show. With the press badge around her neck and her showcase of cleavage there was nowhere she couldn’t go.

  “I came to see you,” she purred, stepping close enough that her perfume carried over, enveloping me for the second time in two days. “I was waiting outside, but you were dawdling. Everything okay with your shoulder?” She reached out and brushed my bare skin, her eyes taking in the rest of my torso.

  I grabbed her wrist and held it out in front of me. She didn’t falter, never losing her self-assured smile. “I don’t want to see you.”

  She stuck her lip out in a spectacular pout. It was the same one she used to get me to stay in bed for ten more minutes when I was supposed to be going to class or to get me to stay in with her when the rest of my college teammates were going out drinking.

  “Why not?” she asked.

  “Because we’re not together. We’re not even friends. You made that pretty clear once I said I wanted to move on with my life,” I replied, flashes of that final conversation coming back to me, each packing an emotional punch.

  “What did you expect me to say, Cody? You thought that after three years I’d be willing to follow you around and pretend like we were friends? I was supposed to be cool with watching from the sidelines while you went out and got drafted and launched into this big, exciting, new life without me?”

  “Summer…don’t.” I ducked my chin. “Don’t do this. It’s not going to get you what you want.”

  “How do you know what I want?” Her question snapped through the room like the lash of a whip. I jerked my eyes to hers and watched the fire blazing as she stared at me. “You never took into consideration what I wanted. You’re the most selfish man I’ve ever met, Cody Wright.”

  “Then what are you doing here?” I asked, releasing her wrist in a flinging motion once I realized I was still grasping it. “Why are you with the team? Why are you in this locker room? Why are you even talking to me if I’m such a piece of shit?”

  Her eyes flashed, more angry than sentimental. “Because I’m still in love with you.”

  “No, you’re not.” I pulled my shirt on, suddenly feeling too exposed. “You’re not in love with me, Summer. You’re in love with the fame and fortune that comes with what I’m doing. You wanted to be a baller’s wife since day-fuckin’-one. Don’t you think I saw through you from the beginning? You picked me like some old geezer picks a fuckin’ race horse at the track. You looked around the campus and watched all of the athletes, studied us like we were fuckin’ animals trained to perform, and then you latched onto me. You wanted to be with me, marry me, have my kids. Maybe you loved me then, but that
was after the fact. A side effect, not the reason you wanted me.”

  “Cody—”

  I held up a hand, silencing her. “No. I’m not going to listen to this. I’m sorry I hurt you all those years ago. I am. But it’s been a long time. I’ve moved on and so should you.”

  I pushed past her. “Go home, Summer.”

  “This isn’t about money, or fame, Cody!” Her footsteps came after me and I stopped near the door. I rounded on her. “I already told you who I’m with now. Willis is more wealthy than you’ll ever be. He gives me everything I want. I bat my eyes and it appears. It’s easy. But that’s my whole point…it doesn’t matter to me because I want to be with you. I want what we had.”

  “Then go find it with someone else. We have burned too many bridges to ever go back to the way it was before.”

  Her eyes filled with glossy tears. “We can fix it…”

  “I’m seeing someone else, Summer. I’m happy. I don’t wish you ill will, but you need to leave me alone.”

  “You’re seeing someone?” She genuinely seemed shocked by the statement. “Like, dating?”

  I set my jaw and gave a firm nod. “Yes.”

  She folded her arms. “That’s not what I heard…”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Before I came here, I did a little digging. You have a certain reputation…and it’s not the kind that makes me think you’re telling me the truth right now. Everyone I talked to said you don’t date. You use women to get your rocks off and then never call them again. From what I can tell, you haven’t had anything meaningful since me.”

  It shouldn’t have surprised me that she’d done her homework. That was classic Summer. Smart, ambitious, and ruthless when necessary.

  “It’s new.”

  “And made up,” she fired back without blinking.

  My fists went tight. “Her name is Chelsea and she’s very real. She’ll be sitting in my section at the next game. You’ll be there next to your boyfriend-a-saurus. See if I’m lying.”

  I whipped around and stalked from the room. “Leave me alone, Summer. This conversation is done.”

  She didn’t follow after me this time, but as I ducked into the hall that led out of the stadium, a sinking feeling settled into the pit of my stomach, and I knew that while the conversation was done—the situation was only just beginning.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chelsea

  “And so, I present to you, Lucky the clown fish’s next big adventure! Pause for music…” I waited a beat, and then flourished with my arms at the crescendo of the “Take Me Out to the Ballgame” theme. “Lucky Plays Fishball!”

  The fish didn’t seem interested. It was times like these that I needed a dog. At least they would have the decency to look at me while I held mock up presentations.

  I sighed and set my laser pointer on the coffee table. I took a step back and considered the oversize poster board I’d patched together with finalized versions of the sketches and drawings I’d started a week earlier. I had four days left until my big presentation and the nerves were already gripping a hold of me and making it hard to think about anything that wasn’t related to the game.

  Which was good, because if I slowed down, I’d remember that it had already been a week since Cody called and I’d shot down his offer for a date. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I’d hung up the phone and knew—or thought I did—that within a few days’ time, I’d get a call for his second—or was it third? —attempt at talking me into going out with him.

  But so far, crickets.

  Paris thought I should call him. I’d shot that idea down hard, hoping to finally get my point across to her.

  And hell, in the meantime, I’d got a lot of work done. So it had all worked out just fine.

  I went through my speech once more and then put everything away, my brain too fried from a day at the computer to try one more time. I had four days to get it right. There was plenty of time. I went upstairs and started to change out of my business attire—I found it easier to practice presentations and take myself seriously when I wasn’t in yoga pants with three days’ worth of oily hair. I stripped the navy blazer and was working on removing my matching slacks when the doorbell rang.

  “Pizza time!” I grinned. I glanced down at myself, figured I was decent even though my bra was peeking out from under my camisole, and went down the stairs. “I’m coming!” I shouted, snagging my purse from the table off to the side of the front door before throwing it open. “Coming!”

  I drew in a sharp breath. The man on the porch wasn’t holding a pizza. He was holding a bottle of wine and a bouquet of red and white roses. And a signature grin that made me want to roll my eyes and melt into a puddle all at the same time.

  “Normally, I have to work a little harder to get an ‘I’m coming’ but hell, it’s cool if you started the party without me too, sugar.”

  I fought off the twinges of heat shooting between my legs at the growl of his voice, and blew out the breath I was holding in an exasperated sigh. “Cody…what are you doing here?”

  He flashed another devastating smile. “I came to take you out to dinner. This is for after,” he said, holding up the bottle of wine.

  I took it and gawked at the vintage. It was a pricey bottle. “No, no, here, take it back. We’re not doing this,” I said, each refusal painful to say. For the past week every spare moment in between work was devoted to missing him. Now, he was on my doorstep and I wanted—needed—him gone again.

  It was enough to make my head feel like it was spinning.

  “Chelsea, come on, please,” he said, his voice low.

  Please? Since when does Cody Wright say please?

  “All right, come on in.”

  He entered the foyer and I glanced over at him just in time to catch his eyes lingering on the backside of my form fitted slacks. I flushed at the look in his eyes. Damn it!

  “I gotta say, baby, I’m not understanding your getup. Where are you going?”

  I glanced down, my cheeks warming another ten degrees at the lacy bits of my bra poking out from under the shiny camisole. “I was—” I stopped short, wondering how crazy it was going to sound when I told him what I was actually doing.

  He glanced past me and his eyes landed on the presentation board. “Oh! You were rehearsing.”

  So maybe it wasn’t that weird…that’s a relief.

  Not that I cared what he thought anyway.

  Right.

  “I have to present to the investors in a few days so I was practicing my pitch. I find it helps to dress the part…” I added, glancing down at myself.

  He cocked a grin. “Well, if you want my advice, lose the jacket in the first five minutes and you’ll have them all hooked.” He turned toward the fish tank. “Sorry guys, poor choice of words.”

  I giggled at his finger waggle at my fish. “Don’t worry about them. Hell, I eat sushi in here sometimes.”

  Cody grimaced. “Sadist.”

  I laughed and nodded. “It is pretty sick.”

  “You wanna go out for some tonight? Ya know, out of sight of your slippery roomies over here.”

  “I actually have a—”

  The doorbell rang.

  “A pizza.”

  “Aha. Living it up without me. Good thing I brought a bottle of red. Why don’t you stick that in the fridge? I’ll get the pie.” He reached behind him and fished out a battered looking leather wallet.

  “Oh, no! I couldn’t—”

  “Chels, chill. I got it.”

  He started back to the door before I could stop him. I shook my head, wondering how he managed to always swoop in and dominate a situation with hardly any effort. A few well timed, sexy grins, dark looks and I was freakin’ putty in his hands.

  I stashed the wine in the back of the fridge to get it chilled and then poured two glasses of iced tea. I added a couple of lemon slices and carried them back into the living room just as Cody was bringing in the pizza b
ox.

  He glanced up at me and smirked. “I think your pizza boy was bummed to find out you have a boyfriend. He nearly shit a brick when I opened the door.”

  “He probably wasn’t expecting to see Cody Wright answer the door,” I argued, glossing over that boyfriend comment. For the time being.

  Cody shook his head. “Nah, he wanted to see you answer the door, looking like that.”

  I froze in place, captured in his intent gaze. “Plates!” I said, ambling to get back to the safety of the kitchen. I exhaled slowly at the cabinet and pulled out two plates. “Keep it together, Chels. He’s just a guy…”

  Right.

  That was a load of bullshit and I knew it.

  I took the plates out to the living room, passed them off to Cody, and then backed up for the base of the stairs. “I’m going to go get redressed…or changed…”

  Cody smirked up at me as I started to ascend the stairs. “If my vote counts for anything, I’d prefer undressed.”

  “Good thing it doesn’t,” I replied, shaking my head.

  I got to my room, shut—and locked—the door and tore out of my camisole. I shucked off the slacks and my square toed flats. “Look like a fucking librarian,” I said, kicking off the last shoe. “Better than a stripper,” I added, catching a glance of my lacey bra in the mirror. What would happen if I just went down there like this? I blinked. I knew exactly what would happen. And that idea sent a new flood of heat through me.

  “Okay, Chels, nothing has to happen. If you don’t want it—” I snorted.

  Right. Again.

  I contemplated changing to a nude t-shirt bra and a pair of cotton briefs that couldn’t possibly be considered sexy, but at the last minute, ditched the bra altogether, pulled on an athletic top with a built in bra and a pair of black leggings. I piled my hair up into a messy bun and applied a layer of clear lip gloss. There. Basic. Nothing to see. I wasn’t trying too hard.

  Perfect.

  I jogged back down the stairs and watched Cody’s eyes as they went down my body and then back up. “Damn, woman. How do you make me so fuckin’ hard just looking at you?”