by Lyssa Layne
Rotating his arm in a circle, he nods. “It feels great, I really think this is the year. Wish we still had Adamson on the team, but we can win another World Series without him.”
I laugh at his comment. “I’ll be sure to pass that on to him.” Grant Adamson is a former teammate of Benny’s and also Colie’s husband. Benny and Grant have been long time best friends and even on opposite coasts, that hasn’t changed.
“So, date with Mr. Turner tonight or can I have the privilege of wining and dining the hottest sports agent in the industry?” Benny asks, pulling his shirt over his taut stomach.
“Actually, Gregg and I wanted to take you out to dinner. We’re both in town just for the evening.” Gregg, Grant, and Benny all joined the MLB pitching rosters the same season and have a solid friendship from over the years.
Benny nods, kissing my cheek. “Sounds good to me as long as the place has some hotties.”
I roll my eyes and laugh as I walk out with Benny. He’s a total flirt, never actually following through on any dirty intentions. He’s got a girl back home, Isabel, who is the mother of his thirteen-year-old son. To say their relationship is complicated is an understatement. I just try to stay out of it.
In the parking lot, we agree to eat at Benny’s favorite Spanish restaurant, Diego’s. We bid our farewells and I get into my car, texting Gregg about the plan as he’s driving into Port St. Lucie right now. I start my rental car and when the bluetooth connects, my phone rings immediately.
“Camila Lemos,” I answer without looking to see who it is.
“Hello, Miss Lemos. This is your pain in the ass linebacker.”
Butterflies are released in my stomach and a grin creeps over my face at the sound of Evan’s voice. Ever since our surfing lesson, I’ve let my guard down with him, slowly opening up and letting us get to know each other better. Truth be told, I look forward to the few minutes a day we share with each other, whether it be texts or phone calls. I’m treading in dangerous territory, but I can’t seem to keep myself away from Evan Purser—both physically and mentally.
Pretending to groan, I tease him back. “Ugh, what do you need now?”
On the other end of the line, Evan fakes a gasp. “What? Can’t even spare me five minutes?”
Like a schoolgirl, I giggle. “I take it you’re done at the gym with nothing better to do other than pester me?”
Evan’s chuckle comes across the phone and this feeling deep in my stomach churns. “Something like that, what are you up to?”
“Headed to dinner with Benny at Diego’s, he swears their wood-fire lamb is to die for.”
“Gotcha, well, I’ll let you go. Catch ya later,” Evan says, ending our phone call abruptly.
My stomach drops and I stare at the dashboard where it says “Call ended.” I didn’t want the call to be ended. I wanted to hear Evan’s voice, find out how his workout was, roll my eyes at his endless attempts of flirting. My drive across town is filled with empty thoughts of Evan and how our conversation should have been. Putting my car in park, I sigh. I’m falling for Evan Purser faster than I can catch myself. I need to put some distance between us before this ends badly, for more than just Evan and me.
Benny and I make our way to the table, Gregg joining us a few minutes later. The two men talk curve balls and sliders while my mind wanders to a certain linebacker. Watching Gregg talk, I think back over our relationship. It’s served its purpose over the past few years, but maybe I’m ready for something more. All this time I’m spending with Evan has made me think back to the days when I wanted a companion, not just a bed buddy. I’ll talk to Gregg tonight after dinner, maybe our days together are coming to a close, but that doesn’t mean I’ll start anything with Evan. He’s still a client and no matter how well I do in the profession, I’m constantly having to prove myself. Dating one of my athletes is the cardinal sin in my line of work.
“Got room for one more?”
I recognize the voice before I look up. When I do, my jaw falls open at the sight of Evan Purser standing beside our table. He looks amazingly sexy in a navy sweater, the sleeves pushed up his muscular forearms and his jeans hugging every muscle of his thick legs.
I quickly close my mouth, hoping no one noticed. I stand and since I’m wearing a pair of flat, strappy sandals, I have to push on my tippy toes to reach his cheek where I barely brush my lips. My hand steadies my balance on his chest, but not my racing heart. Evan’s large hand grips my waist, not helping my heartbeat.
“What are you doing here?” I whisper, glancing over my shoulder at Benny and Gregg, both looking equally as shocked as I am.
Grinning like the Joker, he responses, “I finished my workout for the day.”
I roll my eyes and give him a playful shove. Evan laughs and we turn to the table. My stomach churns nervously as I remember Gregg is watching us.
Benny pats the chair beside him. “Here, man, take a seat.”
Evan shakes his hand, the two men introduce themselves as I take my place beside Gregg. I glance over at him, but Gregg just pats my shoulder, his arm resting on the back of my chair.
Evan takes the seat directly across from me and his knee knocks mine, sending a shot of electricity directly between my legs. He gives me a sly wink before turning to the baseball players and chit chatting with them. I’m silent the rest of dinner, completely not on top of my game as I sit awkwardly between my lover and my linebacker. Evan’s not helping any since he hasn’t moved his legs and continues to rub the denim of our pants together, evoking more of a reaction than I care for.
Finally, after an excruciating hour of Benny flirting with the waitress while Evan eggs him on and Gregg laughing at both of them, the men have decided they’re ready to call it a night. I can’t help but wonder if I wasn’t here if Evan would be in the bathroom having his way with the perky blonde server. My stomach twists at the thought and I force myself to push it away, it’s not my business who Evan Purser has sex with.
Outside the restaurant, Benny shakes the men’s hands and kisses my cheek, whispering in my ear, “Never knew that was your type!”
I roll my eyes and tell him good night. My cheeks burn bright and I know this thing with Evan Purser has to stop. I don’t sleep with my clients and while I may not be screwing Evan, apparently that’s the idea I’m giving which is just as bad.
I watch Benny walk to his car, too afraid to turn around and face Gregg and Evan at the same time. Luckily, I don’t have to. A hand moves to my lower back and I feel a cheek against mine. In a low voice, Gregg says, “I’ll meet you back at the hotel.” With a quick peck on my cheek, he walks into the darkness and I’m forced to turn around and meet Evan.
His hands are shoved in his pockets and he’s wearing a shit-eating grin, exuding nothing but cockiness. I shiver in my peach baby doll tank top, my teeth chattering when I begin to speak. It’s not that cold in Florida this time of year, but my nerves are taking over. Honestly, I haven’t felt this way since back in college.
Evan pulls his hands out of his pocket and easily draws me against him, his hands sliding up and down my arms. “Geez, Cami, you weren’t shaking this much when we went surfing.”
He’s right and the water temperature was in the fifties. Slowly, my confidence comes back and I shake his hands off me, taking a step back. “What the hell are you doing here, Evan? I’m working, you can’t just show up whenever you want to.”
“Whoa!” He holds up his hands in a surrender motion. “Fuck, Cam, I came down to visit my mom and thought I’d surprise you. You really know how to show your appreciation,” he mutters the last part and brushes past me.
Ugh, I sigh and run after him. He stops beside a black Yukon to get his keys out and I grab his hand. He looks back at me, but doesn’t say a word. Softly, I squeeze his hand. “I’m sorry. I am happy to see you. You… you just took me by surprise.”
Quickly, Evan spins around and with one step has me pinned against the SUV on the other side of his. “What are you so w
orried about? We’re friends, right? Blake pulls this kind of shit with you all the time, why can’t I?”
I stare up into his blue eyes clouded with anger. My fingers walk up his chest as I can’t tear myself to look away from him. “Evan, you’re not Blake…”
His eyes get darker and he takes a step back, muttering, “Of course I’m not and I never will be.”
My fingers clench around his sweater, keeping him from moving. “Blake doesn’t show up and make me feel the way you do. When Blake’s with me, I’m not constantly worried about what everyone else thinks.” I pause, unsure where this honesty is coming from but deciding to just roll with it. “When Blake’s with me, I don’t stare at his lips, wanting to taste them so bad, but knowing they’re off limits.”
Evan’s chest rises and falls under my hand, his eyes go from a dark midnight blue to almost a baby blue color and a smirk comes to his lips. “Who said they’re off limits?” He takes a step back to me, his body crushing me against the car behind us.
My heart in my throat, I’m barely able to squeak out, “Me.”
Evan doesn’t make a move, he just stares at me, a smile dancing in his eyes while his hand moves to my stomach. Goosebumps tickle my skin as his fingers walk over the chiffon fabric of my shirt.
“What if no one knew?” he asks, his breath almost a growl and my panties are immediately wet. “I don’t kiss and tell…”
I swallow hard, shaking my head and wetting my lips at the same time. Taking his sweet time, Evan lowers his mouth to mine. The instant they connect, every nerve ending in my body is on fire. My hands immediately go to his neck, pulling him closer, wanting him more and not wanting to let go. Evan’s hands are needy as they roam over my torso, pulling at my shirt and teasing my nipples. My moans are smothered by our kiss and the vibrations from his own tease me even more.
The loud shrill of my phone takes us both by surprise and we pull apart. My chest heaves as I fumble in my purse to stop the ringing. Finding it, I laugh and show the screen to Evan who shakes his head, snickering.
“Of course Blake cock block’s me without even knowing it,” he mumbles, his lips moving to my neck.
Bolts of heat shoot through me at his touch. Wiggling away from his body, I take three long steps away from him. Trying to sound firm, I say, “The cock block isn’t Blake, it’s the fact that I don’t date clients.”
I move quickly across the parking lot, letting him know we’re done. Evan guffaws. “Sweet dreams of me, Cami. I’ll talk to you in the morning.”
Climbing into my rental car, I grip the wheel, watching Evan pull out of the parking lot and drive away. Of course I’ll have dreams of him tonight, like I do every night, but unlike most nights, Gregg is waiting for me at my hotel. I turn on the engine and take my time driving to the hotel. Just as I slide my keycard into my hotel room door, my phone beeps with a text.
You’re a great kisser. Can’t wait to feel your lips on me again.
Evan
AC/DC blares through my rental and I pound my fists on the steering wheel, keeping beat with the music. The usual adrenaline high I feel after being around Camila is a thousand times more after our kiss. I keep running my tongue over my lips, trying to taste her fruity lipstick. The ginger and floral perfume she always wears already had me in a frenzy at dinner, but after finally getting my lips on her, I’m rock hard. It’s been a month since I’ve gotten off and tonight is probably going to end up like every other time I’m with Camila—blue balls.
The song ends but thoughts of Camila don’t go away. My knuckles turn white as I grip the steering wheel, knowing she’s probably naked with a certain pitching coach right about now. The thought pisses me off and I am fighting the urge to turn this SUV around so I can stop them. Instead, I grab my phone, sending her a text that will hopefully ruin any desire she has to sleep with Gregg Turner.
Turning up the radio, I try to block out thoughts of Camila and Gregg. Luckily, it’s only an hour and a half drive to my mom’s which goes pretty quickly. When I reach the city limits, I turn down the volume, an eerie feeling washing over me. This town is a mix of good and bad memories. Winning state championships, signing with Notre Dame University, only to turn it down because of my mother’s demons. Blake was pissed at me, but he didn’t experience our mother’s alcoholism the way I did.
After our father left us, Blake had been the male figure for both my mom and me. Blake handled all of the house maintenance, made sure the bills were paid on time, purchased all the groceries, checked my homework, practiced football with me every night in our backyard, everything to keep our house and family functioning. My mom depended on him more than either of them realized and when he left, her true colors came out. As a sophomore in high school, I was left to pick up the pieces of our mother yet again. Before I turn on to the long road that leads to our dilapidated Victorian-style house that our mother refuses to sale, I check my phone and grin when I see I have a text from Camila.
Too bad it was only a one-time thing…but you’re not too bad yourself.
Shaking my head and chuckling, I start the quarter of a mile drive. She says it was just a one-time deal, but she knows it’s so much more than that. Tonight, I got much more than I expected from her which is a start. I know I have to take things slow if I want more from her. My throbbing cock reminds me of how much I do and I groan, rubbing it with my free hand, hoping it shrinks before I get to my mother’s.
Reaching our driveway, all thoughts of everything and everyone are pushed away. It’s almost midnight and every light in the house is on while the front door is wide open. I throw the SUV into park and bolt inside, the engine still running. Fearing the worst, I yell for my mom at the top of my lungs.
“Ma! MA! Are you okay? Ma!” This house has no security and Ma refuses to let me pay for any upkeep or security system. She wants it exactly the way it was when our asshole father left. In her delusional mind, she thinks he’s coming back one day.
I race from room to room, stumbling over piles of junk scattered throughout the house. Beer bottles clutter the floors, a sure sign that Ma’s fallen off the wagon. My only hope is that she’s been a lone drinker, staying at home to get shitfaced and not going to the bar, bringing home random men who could do who knows what to her. I clench my fist at that image and shove a stack of magazines off the hall desk, walking into her bedroom, the only place I haven’t checked yet.
I let out a long breath when I see my mother passed out on the bed. Taking a seat beside her, I place my hand on her back and relax slightly knowing that she’s breathing. She’s a tiny woman to begin with, how the hell she gave birth to Blake and me I have no idea, but right now, she looks so fragile. Her skin is pasty, the smell of beer hangs in the air, and I can see every bone along her vertebrae through the thin shirt she’s wearing.
Her fingers still grip a bottle of beer, most of it tipped over and soaking into the mattress by this time. Slowly, trying not to wake her, I pluck it from her hand and she rolls over, mumbling as she does. I pull the blanket over her and push her gray and blonde hair out of her face.
“Hey, Ma, it’s me, Evan,” I say softly instead of screaming at her like I want to. I’ve been here and done that enough times to know that I have to be calm and rational with her in times like this.
She tries to smile, hiccuping as she does. “Hey, how’s my baby boy?” she asks, patting my leg.
I nod. “I’m fine. What about you? I thought you quit drinking.” I look around the room and see half a bottle of vodka on the nightstand, surrounded by empty beer cans.
“Well, you and Blakey’s season was over so I didn’t have nothing better to do,” she slurs her words while she pats my face adoringly.
Sighing, I shake my head. “That’s not the deal, Ma. Sleep it off and we’ll talk about it in the morning.”
I kiss her forehead and stand up. She rolls over, falling right back to sleep like we hadn’t just had a conversation. Grabbing the bottle of vodka, I start to unscrew the
cap then stop. If I take a drink of this then I’m no better than she is. Two more bottles of bourbon stare at me from her dresser. Swiping them, I begin my routine run of the house, checking for any and all forms of alcohol. Thirty minutes later, I’ve recovered five more bottles of liquor, two bottles of cough syrup, and a skunky box of beer sitting in the garage. I know all her favorite hiding places and I didn’t take it easy. Turning a blind eye will help no one.
Bottle after bottle, I empty them down the kitchen drain wondering how things got to the point. Ann Purser is the mother of two starting NFL football players. We both make more than enough money to get her out of this shithole and into a rehab program that could turn her life around, but she refuses any help and Blake’s a fuckin’ idiot who pretends we have the perfect home life in interviews.
The last bottle emptied, I turn around and hurl it at the wall. Listening to it break into a million pieces, I slide down the cabinets and lean my back against them. My elbows on my knees, I hang my head. Blake’s always had the good life. When our father left, the asshole still sent Blake birthday cards every year with a five dollar bill. I never so much as got a card or phone call. Blake leaves for his division one college and Ma brags about it to all her friends. I win three high school championships and wash the puke out of her hair. Blake deserts our family for a beautiful, driven woman that he could’ve had, and probably still could, if he wanted but never took the opportunity. In turn, I fall for the same woman knowing she’s not available. He’s the fuckin’ golden child and I’m no one.
I hear sobs but it takes a moment to figure out they’re coming from me and that the wetness on my face are tears. Fuck, I’m falling apart. I need someone to calm me, tell me it’ll be okay. I need Camila. Without thinking, I press her number into my phone and hold it to my ear. Her sleepy voice is even sexier than normal when she answers. I pinch my nose, pressing my fingers against my eyelids in hopes that will stop the tears.
“Evan? Evan, are you okay? Talk to me,” Camila says into the phone, panic filling her voice and I feel like a dick for causing her to worry.