"Here, take my Jeep," Jilly says to Jake, digging in his pocket and handing him the keys. "Hopefully, you can sneak him in without Terry finding out about it," he continues, as they help Scott climb into the passenger's seat. "Scott told me once there's a bellhop who used to let him in the back service entrance whenever he'd bring chicks—" He stops, giving me a sheepish look.
"It's okay, Jilly. I can only imagine," I respond, crinkling my nose.
"I'll call ahead and try to get the guy to meet you out back," Jilly says, standing aside. "I'll text you if it's a go."
"Thanks, man. Sorry. I didn't mean to wreck your party," Jake replies, ducking his head.
"Straighten this shit out with Scotty, okay? That's the best welcome-back present you could give me," Jilly responds, his voice thickening with emotion. "I already have everything else I could ever want."
"That's one thing Scott's right about. You are a lucky bastard," Jake mutters, nudging his shoulder.
"Yeah. Who would've thought?" Jilly shrugs, a grin tugging on his lips.
"Later, big guy." Jake slaps him on the back. "Hopefully, we'll see ya in New York sooner rather than later."
"Get ready to chase down some fly balls for me, Woodchucker, if I'm a little rusty," Jilly teases. "I haven't pitched in a major league game in almost a year, but I guess Tommy John surgery will do that to a guy. I just hope I don't blow it."
"You? Never!" Jake says, sliding behind the wheel. "You're the best of the best, dude."
I look up at Jilly, who's so tall that he's towering over me. He's a player I've always respected. He's quiet, humble, and—until he got hurt last season—the most successful closer the Kings ever had. I don't want him to think that I'm a complete lunatic.
"Umm, Jilly? I checked your line score from your Single-A game before we got here. No runs, no hits, one walk. Pretty impressive debut for your comeback tour through the minors."
"You know your stuff." Jilly nods at me, a gleam in his eye.
"You'll be getting to know her a whole lot better once you're back closing out our games," Jake calls out, attempting to make amends while shooting me a furtive glance through the windshield.
"What's he saying?" Jilly asks, jutting his chin at a muttering Scott.
"He's just cussing me out," Jake sighs.
"That's it. I'm going with you." Jilly puts his large hand on the handle of the back door, ready to jump in. "I don't want you two getting into it again on the way back."
"Don't worry. I've got it," I respond, lightly laying a hand on the scar on Jilly's surgically-repaired arm. "Go enjoy your party. I'll make sure they don't fight. I promise."
Jilly raises his eyebrows at me. "Who are you? His guardian angel?"
"Something like that." I chuckle and smile up at him.
"Then welcome to our dysfunctional family." He holds his hand out, and I shake it firmly.
"I think I know a thing or two about being a part of one of those," I moan.
"So, outbursts like these don't tend to shock you?" Jilly starts moving toward the house, and I walk with him partway, feeling the need to talk to him out of earshot of Jake.
"No, but I wish they didn't have to happen."
"You really care about Scotty, don't you?" he asks, staring intently into my eyes.
I nod, biting my lip. "I'm afraid so."
"And Jake?"
"We're just friends."
"Does Jake know that?" He stops, waiting for my answer.
"I think he's getting the picture."
He gently places his large hand on my shoulder. "Then you'd better make it absolutely clear to him."
I nod up at Jilly. "I will."
"You do that, 'cause nothing can tear a team apart like two guys in love with the same girl," he says sadly.
I scrunch my eyebrows together, shaking my head vehemently. "But Scott's not in love with me."
"I've never seen him lose his shit over anyone—ever. He's confidence personified. But tonight, he turned up ready to rumble because he knew you'd be here with Jake." Jilly pats the top of my head. "That tells me all I need to know."
"Ready, Carrie?" Jake calls out from the Jeep while grimacing at Scott.
"Tell him the truth," Jilly urges, looking back at Scott and rubbing his jaw. "It'll save everyone a great deal of pain in the long run."
I nod again, too embarrassed by my actions to respond, remembering what happened between Jilly and Brooks when they both fell hard for Sasha Roberts. Jilly is right. I'm playing games with Jake because I'm too afraid to face my feelings for Scott. But having seen him so vulnerable, lying on the ground, is making me realize just how much he's come to mean to me. The thought of him suddenly being taken away from me makes my heart clench.
He deserves to know how I really feel about him.
***
"All right. Put him down gently," I say to Jake as he lowers Scott off his shoulder.
Scott lets out a groan, and Jake and I watch him attentively. He was fine in the elevator, which is why we headed straight to Scott's room in order to bypass Liam, the trainer, for as long as we can. If Terry, the GM, finds out about what happened at the party, there's going to be hell to pay.
But now, Scott's eyes are closed. I can't believe he fell asleep after we lugged him all the way up here.
"Good thing that bellhop found a wheelchair we could use." Jake stands up, dusting off his hands. "What a lifesaver, 'cause Scotty-Boy's a whole lot heavier than I thought."
Scott grunts, but his eyes remain shut.
I sit down next to Scott on the bed, leaning my head closer to his body, suddenly feeling the need to make sure he's still breathing. I'm nervous that Jake might have hit him harder than I thought.
I'm making a move to sit up when I feel a sharp tug against my hair accompanied by a loud, obnoxious snore. "Oh no, Scott. C'mon. Let go."
But his fist remains clenched around my hair even though I swear I can hear the rumble of laughter deep inside his chest.
"Hit 'em on the knuckles," Jake urges.
I rap Scott on the hand, but to no avail. When his fingers ever-so-slightly start to massage my scalp, I know for sure that he's faking, but I don't feel like ratting him out to Jake. Not after Jake went and decked him one.
"So, you're just gonna stay there like that?" Jake asks, folding his arms and staring down at me.
I sigh. "At least until he eases up his grip on me."
Jake runs his fingers through his new buzz cut. "I knew he'd do this."
"Do what?"
"Hijack any chance I had with you."
I close my eyes, my head rising and falling with every breath Scott takes, well aware that he's listening intently to all of this. He wants to hear what I'm going to say to Jake, and Jake's probably going to say more than he should, thinking Scott's asleep. Leave it to me to have put myself in the middle of this.
"Jake, I—"
"Nah, I get it. I tried to insert myself into something I had no business getting involved in. I was just too stubborn to admit defeat until now." He grimaces, letting his hands drop to his sides.
I give him the best apologetic smile I can muster in this position. "Jake, when you're not throwing punches, you're a really terrific guy. It's just—"
"I'm not him." He tilts his chin at Scott with a gut-wrenching look on his face, and I hate that I gave him false hope, leading him on.
"Jake," I start, hoping I'm not making it worse for him. "I can't explain it. I can't control it. But I'd never forgive myself if I didn't give whatever this is between us a shot."
Jake looks away from me and down at the floor.
"You're a good friend, Jake," I reply, doing my best to maintain my smile.
"Yeah. Better than he deserves," Jake grumbles, somehow managing to smile back at me. "Will you be okay if I leave you alone with him? Seeing as he has you in a headlock."
"I'll be fine." My cheeks flare up when I realize how this must look from Jake's angle—my head on Scott's chest, my lips hove
ring above his belt—and I quickly change the subject. "You should go back to the party."
But Jake shakes his head, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. "Nah. I think I'm gonna order some room service and call it a night." He flexes his jaw like he doesn't like what he has to say next but he has to say it anyway. "Uh, don't go spending the night in here, Carrie. Chase will be back around midnight to do a bed check. Make sure you're outta here by then. We gotta keep this quiet. Terry would kill us if he knew we were fighting over you. And if he tells Arnold Heimlich, I don't even wanna think about what the boss man would do to us."
Scott lets out another exaggerated snore.
I close my eyes, dying of embarrassment. "Okay, Jake. I understand."
But this time, Jake doesn't turn around. He just raises his hand, his knuckles all red and swollen from having punched Scott. "Later, Carrie."
When I hear the door shut behind him, I mutter against Scott's shirt. "You can wake up now."
He lifts his head off the pillow and stares down at me. "So, I'm your boyfriend now, huh?"
I sit up when his fingers fall away from my hair. "You're something else, you know that?" I shake my head, trying hard not to grin.
"I told you I'd have you in my bed within a week," he responds smugly, stretching his arms above his head.
"Technically, I'm not in your bed. I'm sitting on top of it."
"It won't take much to change that." He runs his hand up my leg, his voice deep and seductive.
"You're…unbelievable," I sputter, already feeling my libido kicking into gear.
"I'm sorry." He withdraws his hand. "But you push me to do things I don't wanna do."
No way am I about to forgive and forget that easily. "So it's my fault Jake punched you?"
"Got you away from him, didn't it?" Scott gives me a sly grin, oh so proud of himself. "That's the only reason I let him." He chuckles. "I bet you had no clue how psychotically possessive Jake can be. He thinks every girl he dates is like his potential bride or something. I guess that's why things never work out for him with the ladies. He smothers them till they run away screaming. Not to mention, how old-school he is. Public groping doesn't sit well with him. It drives him crazy. That's why he never goes out with us to the clubs. I don't even think he kisses a girl until, like, the fifth date. I was counting on him to react when I let my hands wander. I just never figured he'd sucker-punch me in front of everybody before I could get a few licks in first." Scott massages his jaw. "Man, I didn't think Jake had it in him."
I shoot Scott a withering look. "I wouldn't talk if I were you. You don't have any idea what it means to be someone's boyfriend either."
"You don't want some lame-ass boyfriend," he drawls lazily, yawning in the process. "If you did, you wouldn't have told Jake to get lost."
"Okay, so, what the hell's going on between us, then? 'Cause you're going to have to explain it to me," I say, tapping my foot against the bed, pissed that he'd resort to taking a beating instead of manning up and talking this out with me before things got so out of hand.
He closes his eyes, amused. "I just let myself get my ass kicked for you. Ask me tomorrow."
"I don't think so, Harper." I pound my fist into the mattress. "Either we're doing this or we're not. I'm sick of all of this halfway bullshit. Look what happened as a result of it."
"What about your job?" he asks, opening one eye to look at me.
"Screw my job. There are ways around it," I mutter, chewing on my lip, on the brink of giving in to temptation.
"Uh-uh. That's not what you said before." His smile deepens when he shifts his head from side to side.
I throw my hands up. "Before you made a fool out of yourself in front of all your teammates?"
"They're used to it."
"Not according to Jilly."
He groans, stroking the stubble forming on his chin. "God, the guy who never talks would have to choose tonight to open his mouth."
"He's worried about you," I respond softly. "They all are."
"I don't care what they think." He sits up to look me in the eye. "How do you feel about me?"
I hold his gaze, not backing down. "I don't want to see you pulling that crap ever again."
"Well, there's only one way to prevent that from happening," he says, his voice slipping into that sexy, smooth octave that never fails to get my panties soaking wet.
"And that is?" I ask, curious and terrified to hear what he's going to say.
"When we get back to New York, I want you to invite me over to meet your parents."
My mouth falls open. That's the last thing on earth I was expecting him to say.
I vigorously shake my head back and forth. "That's…that's not possible."
"You want me to be your boyfriend, don't you?" he asks, enjoying watching me squirm.
"Yeah, but what's the rush?" I play it off, keeping my voice light. "There's plenty of time for that."
"You're not getting out of this, Care Bear," he continues, and I know I'm in deep trouble. "Consider it a deal breaker."
I stare at him, pleading with him with my eyes. "You don't know what you're asking."
"Oh, and I wanna meet Alex, too," he adds before sprawling back against the pillows.
"And what if I said I wanted to meet your family?" I shoot back, positive that he'll nix my request.
"Next road trip to Cali. Consider it done. My mom, my dad, my brother—everybody."
Is this Scott Harper talking? He must be suffering from a serious blow to the head, because I don't know this guy.
He casually unbuttons his shirt, letting it hang open while giving me that sexy smile of his.
"What has gotten into you?" I shake my head, trying not to look at that delectable patch of hair that extends down into his pants.
"I dunno. You…sitting on my bed…talking. It's kinda nice."
"And I didn't even have to take my clothes off."
"Not yet."
He rests his hand on his chest, smiling when he sees my eyes gliding along his defined abs as I remember how I traced my tongue over every chiseled curve of his six-pack before doing other much more gratifying things to him with my mouth.
I hastily clear my throat. "And you were doing so well."
Being a bitch to him is only going to get me so far when all I want to do is pull his pants down around his ankles and ride him until the break of dawn.
He undresses me with his eyes. "I'm still me, Care Bear." He gives me a devilish grin, sitting up to remove his shirt. "I know that's how you like me." Then he reaches for my hand.
I jump up off the bed. "I'd better go."
"I finally have you all to myself." He chuckles softly. "And you don't wanna stay?"
"And endanger your hitting streak? I don't think so. We have a good thing going here. No sex until it's over, remember?" I tease, bending over in front of him to straighten my dress.
"Screw my job," he growls, giving my butt a playful smack.
"You don't get to say that. Only I do," I respond, taking a step away from him when his fingers find my waist.
He groans, "How come?"
"Because you live, eat, and breathe baseball, and I'm not getting in the way of that." I reach back and tap the tip of his nose with my finger. "You just ruined the party Chase threw for Jilly because of me. Do you think he's going to be happy to find me in here with you when he does his curfew check? I don't think so."
"But—"
I lower my finger, placing it over his lips. "No buts." I turn off the lamp next to the bed, and he sighs loudly. "Get some rest. Your jaw is going to be sore in the morning no matter how much you were faking it tonight to get me to play nursemaid with you."
The room is pitch black. I tremble when I hear the bed creak, listening to him take off his pants before feeling them drop to the floor by my feet. I bite down hard on the inside of my cheek when I hear him rustle out of his boxers, pulling them from his body.
I'm able to seduce him just by being alon
e in the same room with him, without laying a finger on his naked body. I feel empowered. I put him to bed, but unlike him, I'm able to control my desire and make him crave me even more. It's exhilarating to know I'm the one who's turning him on, making him hot for my well-endowed, voluptuous curves.
But I'm not going to give in to him that easily. He has to earn it after the stunt he pulled tonight. Withholding sex is the best way to torture him—and reward myself in the process. Because when we do come together again, it's sure to be mind-blowing. A little restraint now will make it that much better later.
"Goodnight," I say firmly while blindly feeling my way toward the door.
My fingers are on the handle when he replies, grunting a little, his breath coming out in uneven spurts.
"Just because I'm a guy…who likes to take matters into his own hands…don't think I'm letting you off that easily now that you're my girlfriend. Why don't you come…and join me?"
I indulge myself for a few more seconds, listening to the sexy noises he's making behind me, picturing in my mind what he's doing with his hand on that bed. Then I take a deep breath and bolt into the hallway, flushed and panting, in desperate need of a cold shower. Because let's face it, despite my best intentions to punish him, that's about the only thing that's going to keep me from sneaking back to his room in the middle of the night.
Chase or no Chase.
Chapter Sixteen
Carrie
"Is that him?" I shriek when I hear the doorbell in our New York brownstone later that week. "He's ten minutes early! Damn it, I'm still getting ready!"
Alex looks at me excitedly, hopping off my bed. "You really need to chill, sis. When did you start getting so uptight over a guy anyway?"
"He's not just any guy, Alex," I groan, slipping my favorite pair of diamond studs into my ears, the ones that look like tiny, sparkly baseballs with ruby stitches on them.
"So, you're not gonna tell me anything about this guy until he walks through our door?" Alex pouts, stepping behind me so I can see her face in the mirror.
"It's safer that way," I explain, crossing my fingers that all goes well.
"What, is he an ex-con or something?" she teases, giggling.
Perfect Game Page 12