by Celia Aaron
Nikki came up behind me and put her hands on my shoulders. “They’re professional athletes. Women are always going to be throwing themselves at them. Stop looking.”
I took my glasses off and tossed them down on my desk. “They might throw themselves, but that doesn’t mean that Easton had to catch every last one of them.”
I brushed her hands off me, and she returned to the desk, her smile gone.
“Jesus. I can’t believe I almost let him fuck me. God, I’m so stupid.” So many dark thoughts and memories flitted through my head that I had to close my eyes against the onslaught. “He’s the same as the rest of them. The same as…” I didn’t say his name. I wouldn’t.
“You’re being too hard on him. He didn’t know you then. Give him a ch—”
“Just go. Please.” I tried not to blame her for getting my hopes up. But I wouldn’t have met Easton if it weren’t for her.
“Kyrie.” Her voice gentled, all sarcasm gone. “Don’t be so hard on him. He’s not the same as—”
“Don’t say his name.” My voice rose, anger tingeing the words and making them ugly. “Leave.”
“Okay. If that’s what you want. But I’m here if you want to talk.” Nikki left, closing the door behind her.
I crumpled in my chair, letting the tears plop onto my navy skirt. At least I’d learned what Easton was truly like before I’d given him any more of me. Baseball players were just that—players. And I was a fool for thinking Easton could ever be anything more.
EASTON
A SLIVER OF light shot through the blinds in my room and pounded my face. One of my eyes opened and quickly closed before I managed the courage to open both and squint. Still, the first thing on my mind was her name. Kyrie.
I hadn’t heard from her all day yesterday, despite my constant texting and calls that went straight to voicemail. What the fuck?
I had thought things were going well. She’d gone with me to the hospital when Kasey acted like an idiot and got herself in an accident. Now, nothing.
Sliding out of bed in my boxers, I headed down the hallway into the living room. The television was loud and laughter echoed off the walls. When I rounded the corner, Kasey was on the couch eating ice cream at eight in the morning in her pajamas, most of the ice cream smeared on her face.
“Fucked up on pain pills?” I walked past and headed toward the fridge.
“You know I am.” Kasey spooned out a boulder-sized glob of mint chocolate chip and completely missed her mouth with it. It slid off onto the cushion and she just went for another spoonful, completely oblivious.
“Jesus Christ.” I rifled through the fridge. Her soy milk was the only thing I could find. I glanced back to her to make sure she wasn’t looking and yanked it out. I tipped it up and took a few gulps straight from the carton.
I stuck it back in the fridge and turned to the living room. She stared right at me.
“You’re lucky I won’t remember you did that later, you dick.”
I chuckled. “How’s the hand?”
“No idea. I don’t feel shit.” She tapped her chin. “I wonder if I could finger blast myself and it would seem like someone else was doing it? Write that idea down for me so I don’t forget when you leave later.”
I shook my head and grinned. “You’re out of control.”
“You talk to your girlyfriend?”
This was not a conversation I wanted to have at the moment. My phone lit up on the counter and I ran over to it, only to see Braden’s picture flash. Damn.
I swiped my finger across it. “Hello?”
“Hey, I’m over by your place. Care if I stop by to check on Kasey?” I glanced over to see Kasey holding the empty tub of ice cream in the air and banging on the back of it with her free hand.
“Please come fast.”
“That’s what she said. Later.”
I walked into the living room and sat down on the couch. The back of my knee landed in something cold. “Fuck!” I jumped up and brushed ice cream off my leg as she laughed.
“Way to make a mess, Easton.” Her sneer was made extra comical by the ice cream in her hair.
Any other day I would have just chilled with her and enjoyed her antics, but Kyrie was still in my mind.
Kasey glanced over at me. “She still hasn’t called?”
I shook my head.
“Cunt.”
Confusion and irritation mixed in my bloodstream as I walked to grab a towel to clean up Kasey’s ice cream. Why was I irritated? Because Kyrie was running cold on me again. I knew she enjoyed the fucking orgasm I gave her. She went with me to the hospital. She’d gotten my sister to act like a normal human being for once. And then we’d parted with a kiss that almost had me fucking her against her front door. Something wasn’t adding up and I needed to find out what.
The front door opened and Braden walked through. “What up, sis?”
“Hey!” Kasey drew out her word far longer than any sober person would.
“You fucked up? What’d they give you?”
“Hydro.”
“You tell ‘em to eat shit, you wanted percs?”
“Yeah, but the nurse didn’t like me.”
“Huh? Since when does that shit happen?” He looked at me like it was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard. For good reason. I’d seen Kasey turn a straight girl to the dark side more times than I could count.
“She was all religified—married or some stupid excuse—and I was on a morphine drip not giving a fuck. I don’t think she appreciated me asking her if she ever went to town on herself Exorcist style with the crucifix she was wearing.”
I pulled out my phone and texted Kyrie while Kasey rehashed the events to Braden, some of them embellished more than the story I’d received.
Hey, is everything okay? I’d love to see you today. Or at least talk to you.
I turned back to Kasey and Braden.
“No shit? You were three fingers deep when she had the wreck?” Braden paused and stared at Kasey for a second.
“Worth it.” They both said it at the same time, grinning at each other.
“So what’s up with you and the bubbly blonde?” Kasey asked. “You using the technique on her I taught you?”
“You fuckin’ know I have been. Shit is magic.”
They both began doing some choreographed hand movements while repeating the same thing. “Fingers go in knuckle deep, ready that pussy for a feast. Grip them up and swirl the spot, thumb that clitty ‘til it’s nice and hot. Flick the tongue and watch her squirm, give the thumb another turn. Slip the pinky in the bum, watch her scream your name and come.”
Both of them doubled over in laughter before high fiving. I’d have been right there with them if Kyrie wasn’t cold shouldering the fuck out of me.
“You guys done?” I scrubbed a hand over my face.
“Why you being such a twat?” Braden turned on the couch and stared at me.
“His wife isn’t talking to him.” Kasey paused. “One of you needs to get me more ice cream.”
“Do you know what’s up with her? Has Nikki said anything?” I walked around to the recliner and sat down.
“Naw man. Umm, no idea.” He took too long to respond and broke eye contact.
Braden was a great friend but a horrible liar. I leaned forward with my elbows on my knees. “What did Nikki say?”
Braden’s foot tapped on the hardwoods. “I can’t say anything. I promised, bro.”
Kasey smacked Braden across the back of his head. “Dicks before chicks, motherfucker. Mine is metaphorical in this case, but you get the picture.” She turned to me. “What the hell happened anyway? Your fingers smelled like freshly deflowered Kyrie the last time I saw you two together.” Her eyes narrowed. “What’d you do?”
I shrugged. “I have no fucking clue. But bitch boy here obviously knows something.” I motioned to Braden who sank farther into the couch with each word.
He finally put some thoughts together and held
up both hands, speaking slower and clearer than usual. “Look. I cannot say anything.”
I started to interrupt him.
“But—if I were you, and I wanted to know what the issue was, I would go see Nikki. That is all I can say.”
Kasey clocked him in the jaw with her good hand, hard enough to turn his head back toward me.
I winced at how hard she hit him. Then I chuckled while he glared at me with his jaw clenched.
“Yep, I deserved that.” He stared down at the floor.
“You motherfuckers need to get your shit together. Letting pussy run your life. It’s blasphemous.” She stared lasers at us and wagged her finger back and forth. There was a brief pause. “Blasphemous!”
Changing on a hydrocodone-coated dime, she leaned over and gave Braden a big hug and then stood up to give me one as well. Her smile faded until her lips were smashed into a thin line and her words came through gritted teeth. “If I have to go see those bitches, there will be trouble. So work your fucking shit out. Got me?”
“Yes ma’am.” Braden straightened up on the couch.
She turned to me. “I like Kyrie, Easton. I think she’s perfect for you. But she owes you an explanation. You have too much shit going on right now for her to be fucking with your mind.” She sighed. “So go talk to Nikki and see what you can find out. If that doesn’t work, go stalk Kyrie and do the shit you stage five pussy whipped clingers do. I’m going to nap.”
Kasey walked off toward her room, not without careening off the hallway walls first. I turned to Braden and grinned. “You okay?”
He ran a hand up to his jaw. “She hits like a fucking freight train. Jesus.”
I laughed. “I know.”
“You want me to tell you what’s up? I will.”
“No, let me go chat your woman up first. If she spills, you’ll be off the hook. And I’m willing to guess she can’t keep secrets for shit.”
“That’s the truth.” Braden stood up. “I gotta get going. Need to run an errand. I’ll see you at practice.”
I knocked on the door of Nikki’s townhouse out in suburbia. Everything looked the same as far as I could see. Someone was grilling in their backyard, reminding me I hadn’t eaten all day. My stomach grumbled.
“Just a minute!”
Nikki sounded like she was upstairs. I’d thought about calling her, but it’d be easier for her to deny me the information over the phone if she wanted. Braden was running errands so I knew I wouldn’t be interrupting a fuck marathon.
“Coming!”
The sound of footsteps grew louder before the door flew open.
She looked up at me and then dropped her head and moved to the side. “Come on in.” She waved me through the door and toward her living room.
Her decor mirrored her personality. Gaudy, bright colors, modern lines. It suited her, and wasn’t too bad. Just not my style.
We sat down and she smiled. “Oh, I’m sorry, Easton. You want something to drink?” Her grin widened.
“No, I’m good.” There was a lull. “Why are you smiling?”
“Sorry, I’m just glad you’re here.”
“Why?”
“Two-fold really. See, it means you want to know why Kyrie is ignoring your sorry ass. And it also means my baby didn’t tell you why.”
Sorry ass? What the hell? I balled my hands into fists, but managed a calm voice. I needed information from her, and escalating the conflict wouldn’t help me get it. “What did I do?”
“C’mon Easton. You know what the fuck you did.” Her grin was gone. She stood and paced with her hands on her hips, her yoga pants sticking to her like a second skin. I made more than a small effort to avoid looking at any possible camel toe situation. Because I was a gentleman, after all.
She alternated between glaring at me and looking out the window. “Gonna sit there like you’re all innocent?”
My mouth fell open at the accusation in her tone. “I am so goddamn confused right now. We went to my place. I mean, things moved pretty fast but she was a willing participant. Then we went to the hospital and she acted like she cared about me and my sister. Then nothing.” My face reddened and I stood up, towering over Nikki. So much for staying calm. “What the fuck did I do, Nikki? What is her deal? I’m not going to sit here and be kept in the dark while people paint me as a fucking asshole.”
She didn’t back down, only glared up at me. “Look. Easton. You’re right, okay. You’re still a fucking dick. But you deserve to know why. And I’m sorry. I took some frustration out on you because she’s mad at me too for introducing the two of you. So sit down.”
We both sank onto the couch, each at separate ends. A nervous feeling ripped through my body and landed in the pit of my stomach.
“Look, Kyrie dated someone for a long long time and they were engaged. She still isn’t over it, and they parted ways two years ago. It was a bad split.” She inhaled a deep breath. “He was a baseball player. Still is, actually. You guys play against him sometimes. But he fed her full of all kinds of lies and manipulated her, while he was fucking anything he could put his dick inside on the road, in town, wherever.”
“Who is it?” My skin was on fire. Fuck this guy. I plotted his death in my mind.
“No, no. You are not getting his name out of me.” She twisted one of her rings around her finger, over and over.
Her words still didn’t explain the cold shoulder. “Wait. Okay, yeah. So she had a bad relationship with a baseball player. What does that have to do with me? I’m not him.”
“Easton, do you ever Google the name of the team you play for?”
“Umm, no.” I stared at her like she was a funny looking bug. “Why?”
“Well, there are photos that come up when you do that.”
“What? Like pictures of the stadium?” I put my elbows on my knees and ran my hands down my cheeks. “I’m so confused right now.”
“Jesus Christ, Easton. There are cleat chasers draped all over you. Chicks half-naked, kissing you, grinding on you—some of the pictures are less than a month old. And if you scroll down the screen they just keep going.”
I moved my face into my palms as I realized what it must have looked like. Sure, I liked to fuck a lot—loved it to be honest. But it never occurred to me all that would come back to bite me like this. A chill ripped up my spine and I let out a long, exasperated sigh. “I know what that must look like to her. But I wasn’t in a relationship with anyone, let alone engaged to be married to someone. I’m not a piece of shit. I was single.”
“That may be the case, but when Kyrie saw those pics, all it did was dig those old wounds open. She feels betrayed. Hurt. Like a fool. She doesn’t trust people easily.”
Sure, I wished I hadn’t been careless and whored around. But that was before I even met her. And her shifting the title of asshole over to me when it should stay with her ex didn’t sit well, either.
“I need to see her. She owes me that much. If I’d known I was going to meet her and was going to fa—” I stopped myself.
Nikki’s face grew pink and her lips curled into a wry smile.
“Was going to like her and want something more than a fling, I wouldn’t have been messing around with all those women. I mean hell, Braden was right there with me. And now he’s like a loyal puppy. More loyal to you than me. He wouldn’t tell me any of this shit, and I’m his best friend. But you don’t hold all of his past over his head.”
“Like I said, Easton, you have a point. But I didn’t get royally fucked over by a player. You’re right, it’s not fair. But it’s reality. I’m sorry.” She shrugged.
“Can you talk to her? Get me through the door at least?” I ran a hand through my hair.
“I will try, okay? But I just don’t know right now. I’m on her shit list, too. You aren’t alone. I haven’t heard from her since she saw the pictures and ordered me out of her office.” Nikki looked away. “But I don’t want you to get your hopes up. She’s stubborn once she’s made a deci
sion. The fact she opened up to you at all was a damn miracle in itself.”
I stood. “Thanks, Nikki.”
“You’re welcome, sweetie. Good luck. I really like the way you two look together, and she was so happy when she talked about you. She hadn’t been like that—well, ever. Not even with you-know-who.”
That last bit boosted my confidence a bit after Nikki had practically ripped my heart out. The challenge for me would be not blowing up for being charged with someone else’s crimes. If I could manage that, I could get her back. Well, if she talked to me.
Nikki led me out the front door, and we said our goodbyes. I hopped in the truck and dialed Kyrie’s number. It went straight to voicemail. Shocker.
“This is Kyrie, leave me a message. Unless you’re a player.” Beep.
The end of her message had me stuttering like a buffoon. “Um-um, hey, it’s me, again. Look, I get you don’t want to talk to me, for whatever reason you have. But I think I deserve more than being ignored. If you need more time, that’s fine. But can you send me a text telling me when we can talk, so that I at least have something to hold onto? I’m dying over here.”
My hand slipped and I hit a button. There was a voice. “Do you want to save this message or record a new one? Answer yes or no.”
“Yes, wait which question am I responding to?”
“Do you want to delete this message?”
I was trying to leave a heartfelt message and maintain my thought process and this recording had me on the verge of blowing a gasket. “What the fuck? No.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t understand that.”
“Well open your goddamn ears then, motherfucker.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t understand that.”
“Look, douche. I’m trying to tell the woman I lo—like, that I need to talk to her. And you’re—”
“Saving message. Goodbye.”
The line clicked dead. I sat there with a blank stare, catching my eyes in the rear view mirror momentarily. Did my conversation with the machine just get tacked on to the end of that voicemail?