Third Base (The Boys of Summer #1)

by Heidi McLaughlin

  “Right now, Daisy is my every thought.”

  “Daisy,” my mom sighs when she says her name. “I like that name.”

  Me too, and I’ve been trying to come up with a nickname for her, but nothing seems to fit. I thought about calling her D, but then my jackass teammates would be saying shit like “She wants the D”. It’s funny but crude. I don’t think she’ll appreciate it too much.

  Before my mom and I hang up, I tell her about my plans for tonight and promise to send her a photo of us all dressed up. She asks me to tell Daisy ‘hi’ for her and even though I agree, it’s not gonna happen. It’s far too early to bring parental units into our relationship.

  The team has sent a car and driver for tonight. I couldn’t be happier because that means I can focus my attention on Daisy when she gets in the car. I thought about driving to her neighborhood after she gave me her address, but figured she’d catch me and it’d piss her off. She’s embarrassed by where she lives and I don’t know how to convey to her that shit like that doesn’t bother me.

  As we drive, I’m constantly looking at my watch. I want to see how far she lives from me. I don’t know why it’s important except that I have a great amount of hope that she’s going to be spending a lot of time at my house and I want to know how long it’ll take me to drive her home every night.

  Seven minutes. That is how long it took us to get from my house to hers.

  “Is this it?” I ask, slightly confused.

  “Yes, sir,” he says as he looks at the GPS mounted on his dashboard. I look around and nothing screams low income. I don’t know what she was going on about the other night, but this looks like a place I’d live in.

  “Alright,” I say, as I get out of the car. I contemplated buying her a corsage, but felt like that would be overkill and more like prom. I did, however, buy her a birthday cake in hopes that she and I can have a little celebration tonight after the dinner.

  As I approach the door I notice a keypad. I drag my finger down the names, looking for Robinson, but don’t see it. I step back and look at the address before pulling out my phone to match it with the address she sent to me. As I unlock the screen I notice a message from her. Shit, she wants me to call her so she’ll come down, instead of me going up to her door. I don’t like that it isn’t as personal as meeting her at her door, but I’m left with no choice.

  I start to dial when I see an elderly woman with almost blue hair and a cane walk out.

  “Hi, excuse me. My name’s Ethan Davenport and I’m here to escort Miss Daisy Robinson to the Boston Rotary dinner tonight. Do you happen to know which apartment is hers?”

  She eyes me up and down before lifting her cane. I think for a moment that she’s about to beat the shit out of me until the driver of my car steps out.

  “Are you going to hurt her?”

  “No, ma’am,” I say, shaking my head. I still have a feeling she’s going to hurt me. I keep that thought to myself though. It’s a fear I have. Daisy’s been closed off. She’s held back even though I’ve pushed. She’s going into this relationship with an advantage over me. I’m a public figure but she’s an enigma.

  “You’ll find Daisy in Three C, but if you hurt her...” She trails off, pointing her cane at me and huffing before walking down the street. I nod to the driver that I’m okay as I step inside the building. The hall smells like urine and there are kids screaming at the end of the hall. A wooden staircase is off to the right, with built in mailboxes on the left. I walk down the hall, hoping the elevator is in service, but as my luck would have it, it’s not today.

  “Three flights of stairs in a tux, no problem.” I take the steps two at time. The second floor gives me a long hallway to walk down before I have to climb the next set of steps. This floor smells better, but is messy. There are toys in the hallway and one resident has their door decorated for the holidays, which are still eight months away.

  When I reach the third floor I stand straighter and fix my bow tie. I hate that I’m empty-handed and should’ve asked my mom what to bring that wouldn’t be considered stupid and over the top. My stroll to her door is casual with my hands in my pockets to help control the twitching.

  The black C is mocking me as I stand in front of it, poised to knock. My knuckles wrap on the door twice before I lean against the doorjamb, trying to play it cool. A flash of black catches my eye as the door swings open. I swallow hard when Daisy stands before me, as the fingers in my pocket pinch the shit out of my leg, trying to make my mouth work.

  I stand up straight and take her in. Her blonde hair is pulled up, and I’m not talking piled on top of her head. It’s in big curls like my grandma used to wear in her heyday. Daisy’s cheeks are rosy, with her lips painted red. Her black dress sits somewhat off her shoulder and just below her knees and she’s finished off her ensemble with red high heels.

  “You look…”

  “Like a pin-up model?”

  I catch her eyes and immediately look at her lips again. I feel myself getting hard just picturing her red lips wrapped around my cock.

  “Fuck me,” I say as I try discreetly to adjust myself. She catches the action, but doesn’t have to say anything because the smirk is enough. She knows she turns me on.

  “Daisy, you look fucking stunning.” This time she knows I’m serious as her cheeks darken. “You’re a classic beauty and I’m so honored to have you on my arm tonight.”

  “This old thing,” she says as she brushes her hands down the front of her dress.

  “I don’t care if it’s brand new, vintage or what – the fact is, you’re gorgeous and I’m going to have to fight every man as they try to get your attention.”

  “Are you up for the challenge?”

  I step into her apartment and place my hand on her waist. I bend only slightly, her heels making our height difference less of a challenge, and whisper into her ear. “If it means I get you all to myself, I’m up for anything.” I brush against her dress so she knows what I’m talking about. I don’t miss the sharp intake of air she takes either.

  “Who’s at the door, Daisy?”

  Daisy steps out of my hold and looks at me quickly before answering. “My friend, Papa. Remember, I told you I was going to dinner.”

  “I need to meet him and make sure he’s a respectable young man.”

  “Shit,” I mutter as I look down at my semi. I start filtering images though my head of the nastiest things I can while Daisy has my hand in her hers and is pulling me into the other room.

  Her living room is decorated like everyone else’s with artwork and pictures on the wall. There’s a television in the corner with a love seat and recliner along the wall. Her grandfather sits in the recliner with his wheelchair next to him. Just by looking at it, I can tell it’s old and probably doesn’t function properly.

  “Papa, this is my friend, Ethan. Ethan, this is my grandfather, John.”

  I step forward and shake his hand. I have no doubt, that in his prime, he had a firm handshake and I make sure to show him that I do too. It’s a sign of a confident man, according to my father, and I want her grandfather to know that’s what I am.

  “It’s great to meet you, sir.”

  “I know you,” he says in a thick Boston accent. “You’re behind in homeruns if you think you’re going to be voted in for the derby. Don’t they have you practicing?”

  I step back, not entirely shocked that he knows me, but more that he’s hounding me about my percentage. “I’ll work on those at bats, sir.”

  “Be good to my Daisy, she’s fragile and the only woman who loves me enough to put up with my cranky ass.”

  “I plan to take very good care of her.” When I say the words I’m looking directly at her so she knows I’m serious. She looks away and for the life of me I can’t figure out why. It’s not that I want her to fall at my feet and profess her undying love, but I want her to trust me. It makes me wonder who has hurt her in the past to make her like this.

  “Sir, we h
ave to go, but it was very nice meeting you.” I shake his hand again and this time I feel him put a little more strength into it.

  “Someday, I’ll see you play live.”

  “I’d like that,” I tell him as Daisy motions for me to go to the door.

  Daisy says her goodbyes and meets me out front, shutting the door behind her. Right now would be the perfect time to kiss her, but I want to do it after she blows out the candles on her cake tonight.

  I may be biased but if that’s the case, I’m okay with having that title. Everywhere I look, men are staring in my direction. I’m a confident man; I know I’m good looking, but they’re not looking at me. No, these fuckers that I have to play nice with tonight have their eyes focused on Daisy. I don’t blame them. She’s fucking hot. She’s the hottest woman in the room and everyone knows it.

  From the minute we walked in, men have drooled from a distance while the women have flocked to her. You would think that she’s famous or the honoree tonight, but that’s not the case. In fact, the honoree, who will be sitting at our table tonight, has barely even been spoken to. To me, that proves one thing: These women are motivated by their jealousy and only befriending Daisy to keep her away from their husbands, which shouldn’t a problem since she came with me.

  Every lady in here looks the same, except for Daisy, with their long gowns and hair piled on top of their heads. She stands out among the drab and tired old looks, and has something that these women could only dream of pulling off. I know this because the lady next to me won’t stop yammering away about how she wishes she could pull off the fifties look.

  For the first time in a long time, I’m not the one talking. I’m not the focus of attention. I’m not sure how I feel about that, but am happy to play the supportive role for Daisy, although the constant fashion talk is boring as fuck.

  I’ve also yet to wish her a happy birthday. That fact alone makes me feel like a complete ass. I had a plan when we walked in, I was going to lead her to the bar and buy her first legal drink. I was going to give a toast and then wish her happy birthday.

  When dinner is about to be served, I place my hand on her waist and nudge her in my direction. She understands my hint and excuses herself from the conversation. I lead us over to the bar and while we wait, I look down to find a smiling, radiant Daisy.

  “Are you having fun?”

  “Yes and no,” she says, causing confusion. She stands closer to me, pulling me down slightly to speak into my ear. “I’m having fun because I’m with you, but those women are talking about things I don’t have any clue about and it’s hard to play along.”

  “High society women are like that,” I tell her. “They all have an agenda and you’re a fresh face in their pond of groupies.”

  Daisy looks at me with bemusement and I shrug. It’s something I’ve come to learn about the people who have too much money to throw around. We step up to the bar when it’s our turn. My hand is on her back, refusing to move.

  “What would you like to drink?”

  “Um… a whiskey and Coke?” By the face she makes I know for certain she hasn’t had a drink like this before. I find that odd, since she’s in college, but it also makes sense since she’s been taking care of her grandfather. The last thing I want is for her to be puking on her birthday, especially tonight. Maybe on my next off day we can tie one on.

  “The lady will have a Seabreeze and I’ll have a Sam Adams,” I tell the bartender who looks at Daisy for a brief moment. I’m guessing he’s trying to figure if she’s legal or not, or he could be eyeing her like every other dude in this place.

  “What’s a Seabreeze?” she asks, leaning into me. I find this naïve part of her cute. My sister likes this drink, so I figure it’s a safe bet.

  “It’s Vodka, Cranberry and grapefruit juice. I’m hoping you like those types of juices?” She shrugs in a sort of non-committal way.

  The bartender places her drink and my bottle of beer on the bar. We thank him and take our drinks. With my hand on her back, I guide her in the direction of our table, only stopping twice for people to talk to her. I like that they’re interested in her and not me. When we finally get to our table, I set my beer down so I can pull her chair out.

  When she sits, her dress poofs out around her and I try not to laugh as she attempts to tuck it under her legs. I help her pull her chair in before sitting down and once I’m seated, I’m holding her hand.

  “In case I haven’t told you, you look stunning.”

  Her cheeks darken as she bows her head, turning ever so slightly to look at me. “I do believe I remember the words you said when I opened the door.”

  I lean in, taking a deep whiff of her perfume. “Care to repeat them?”

  Daisy shakes her head, but can’t hold back the grin forming on her lips.

  “Happy Birthday, Beautiful,” I say as I kiss her just below her ear. “We can celebrate later.” I’m unable to gauge her reaction because my name is being called from the podium. I have to give a speech tonight and it’s on the top of the list of things I didn’t want to be doing this evening. I leave Daisy seated at our table as I make my way to the front of the room. Once in place, I take a deep breath to calm my nerves and control the inevitable twitch that starts in my hand.

  “Good evening.” The applause is loud and continues on for a moment. Once it dies down, I look down at the typed words on the cards in front of me and clear my throat. I should’ve read this before I arrived, but I was too preoccupied with thoughts of seeing Daisy. For someone who hasn’t had any media training, they definitely sent the wrong guy. As I read over the speech, I realize I can’t say any of this stuff.

  “I want to say thank you for having Daisy and I tonight as your guests. I think this is the first time I’ve been in a room where no one wants to talk about baseball. I know she’s beautiful, but she’s going home with me.”

  Everyone laughs and I half expect Daisy to turn away, but she’s focused on me.

  “Steve wanted me to let everyone know that he’s sorry he couldn’t be here, and was kind enough to write my speech. Thing is, I didn’t read it beforehand and I’m not sure it works for tonight.

  “We’ve all come together for one reason – to raise money for the community. I’m not going to ask you to open your checkbooks and start scribbling your name. Instead, I’m going to ask that you think about what it means to give back, because sometimes it’s not always about the money. When I’m not playing, I’m walking the children’s wing of the hospital or I’m down at the community center helping to repair a swing set or painting over the graffiti’d walls. I could just give them money, but without volunteers to actually do the work, that money is being spent on contractors when it could be spent directly on the children. My mom always used to say ‘Give a man a fish and you feed him for a day. Teach a man to fish and you’ll feed him for life.’ Even though I know we’re not teaching these kids to make their own meals, I’d like to think that the same applies here.

  “So tonight, when you’re asked to open your checkbooks, please consider volunteering your time as well. One is good but without the other, neither one will go nearly as far.”

  Daisy is the first one to stand and start clapping. Others quickly follow her, as the applause grows louder. I’ve had standing ovations before, but this one is by far the best.

  “That was amazing,” she says as she molds herself into my arms. Holding her has to be the best thing on earth, and especially right now. I have no doubt, that after tonight, other things are going to start ranking up on the best list right along with her.

  I’m nervous about taking her to my place. All night I’ve thought about how I would ask her to come to my place. Only for our night to end before the words could be said. Call me a chicken or a coward, but it’s just hard to grasp whether she likes me or not. Sure, tonight she was on par with the likability, but there are times when I can’t read her at all.

  The driver stops and suddenly my hands are twitching and my pal
ms are sweating. My mouth is dry and my tongue feels like its three feet thick in my mouth. My fear is that when I finally have the guts to speak, I’ll be too hard to understand and she’ll make fun of me.

  “Is this your place?” she asks, breaking the ice. God, she’s amazing and perfect. I don’t know if she senses my unease or what, but she has a way of making me feel comfortable.

  “Yes. I thought we could go in for a bit and celebrate your birthday.”

  “I’d like that.” Even in the dark of the back seat I can see her smile. As soon as I pull the lever to open my door, the driver is out of the car and opening the door for Daisy. I stay seated, watching as she takes his hand to get out and her dress falls perfectly into place. I groan, thinking about what’s underneath, wondering if I’m going to get a visual or have to rely strictly on my imagination.

  “Will you be needing my services?” The driver asks when I come around the back to meet Daisy.

  “No, thank you,” I tell him. Daisy will have to go home eventually, but I’ll be driving her there and walking her to her door like a proper gentlemen.

  I hold Daisy’s hand and walk slowly up the steps to my brownstone. I have a feeling she already knew where I lived, but was playing along to save my dignity. Once inside, she lets go of my hand and walks straight into my living room. I have the lights on timers to ward off burglars. Plus, it’s nice coming home to a few lights on after a game. Makes me feel like someone is waiting up for me.

  “Feel free to look around.” I set my keys on the table and slip off my tuxedo jacket as I follow her around. She moves from the living room into the kitchen, touching various things. I stand in the doorway when she walks into my room, watching her take everything in.

  When she turns, I’m already undoing my bowtie. The air between us is crackling with a combination of what I can only hope is sexual tension and nervous excitement. We each take one or maybe two steps and then our mouths are crashing into each other. I hiss at the contact. My skin burns when we touch and my ache grows. My desire for her is fueled when her tongue seeks permission to enter my mouth. There’s nothing slow about this kiss. It’s nothing like I ever imagined it would be. Her fingers are in my hair and my right hand is cupping her face while my left arm is holding her to me. Her hands start roaming up and down my chest, and with the slightest tug of my buttons, I’m walking her backwards toward my bed.