by Alice Ward
“What?”
“The grunt. You know what the fuck I mean.”
He stopped and faced me. “You said she didn’t have any complaints. That isn’t entirely true, now is it?”
“I don’t know, is it?”
I was growing irritated with his games. If he had something to say, he needed to just fuckin’ say it.
“I just think Holly is ready for more than just, well, whatever this is you two are doing.” Calvin scratched his head, pushed his hair back from his face and tried to soothe his harsh words with a smile.
“You don’t know what we’re doing,” I huffed.
“You’re right. I don’t. And neither does anyone else. That’s the problem.”
Wow, Calvin Malone’s got a set of balls on him that weight ten pounds each.
“I might be ready for more myself,” I admitted for the first time aloud.
“Really?” Calvin raised an eyebrow. “And when did you come to this conclusion, before or after she busted you in the hot tub with the naked chick?” he snapped.
Make that twenty pounds each.
“Look. I know I haven’t been boyfriend material, but that can change. People can change. She’s a good girl. She means more to me than just a piece of ass. She’s different,” I argued.
Calvin wrapped his arm around my shoulder, let out a laugh, and squeezed my arm. “That’s good to hear, old man.”
“Quit calling me old, you little cock sucker.”
He knocked off my hat, mussed my hair, and laughed. “I’m the cock sucker? You were the one in the hot tub with Luke.”
“Shut the fuck up,” I warned, picked up my hat, and slapped him on the back as we entered the locker rooms.
Practice was rough. My arms were tighter than usual, probably from holding onto Holly all night long. I knew she couldn’t have slept well with me squeezing her so tightly, so I was glad she was able to go back to sleep before I left.
Out on the field, our team was looking pretty strong. The new third baseman, Jack, was proving to be a pretty valuable player. He could crack that bat and send a ball over the fence or into the stands. You told him where you wanted it, and he landed it there. It was amazing. The only downside to that was he could only hit and control certain pitches. It wouldn’t take the pitchers long to figure him out. That meant he would have a few good games, and then he’d be a swing and miss, or a foul ball all season long. It was a shame, but pitchers were trained to zoom in on guys like him.
“So, this Jack guy, the pitchers gonna eat him alive or what?” I asked Calvin as we walked towards the locker rooms.
“I’m working with him.”
“Oh. Cool. He could use the help.”
“What the fuck are you talking about Newman?” Coach said, and I turned, not realizing he was just behind us.
“Nothing, Coach.”
“No. You were saying that Jack, the man who hit the ball everywhere he was asked, needs help. You might want to focus on your placement?”
Jack stopped and turned to face me, and dammit, he looked hurt. Is he a girl or a baseball player?
Shit!
There was my dad’s voice in my head again.
“Clarify for the rest of us who only saw an amazing hitter out there today,” Coach demanded.
Calvin gave me a you’re on your own look. I knew he didn’t want anything to do with this. That was fine. I was right, and the sooner they realized that, the sooner it could be fixed.
“Yes, his control is fantastic,” I conceded. “But he can only hit certain pitches, and out of those, control an even smaller number.”
My teammates all stared at me, waiting for me to explain myself. I knew Jack had done an amazing job out there on the field today, but that wasn’t going to last long.
I went on, “The problem I see is this. Pitchers and catchers get paid the big bucks to know their batter’s weaknesses, and Jack’s are very easy to read. After he hits the shit outta the park the first couple games, pitchers are gonna take notice. They’ll find his weaknesses quick, and then he’s useless at bat. A few tweaks and he’ll be unstoppable.”
Coach scratched the top of his head, and his eyes moved to Calvin. “Is this true?”
“Yes, sir,” he replied quickly and without hesitation. Atta boy.
“Okay. I want you two working closely with him. Learn to hide his weaknesses better. Or better yet, eliminate them and turn him into another Ace Newman at bat.”
My skin crawled at his comment. There was, and would always be, only one Ace Newman. Why the fuck was everyone so ready to hang me out to dry?
Calvin slapped me on the shoulders. “Good move, big mouth.”
I growled. “Yeah. Now I’ve gotta help you babysit.”
My entire body ached, as much as I hated to admit it, even to myself. Gary, one of the new physical therapists in the stadium rushed over to me. “I was watching you swing. You’re tight today.” Fuck, I hated being so obvious. “I want to get you on the roller before your massage,” Gary ordered, pulling me towards the rehab room.
I knew he was right, but I hated being seen as weak. “Seriously?”
“Yes. We need to loosen you up. Your reflexes seemed a little slow fielding. I’m going to work on your arms and hips.” I pulled off my shirt, and he whistled. “Damn. I’ll get something on those bruises too. Your arms and chest took a beating.”
I smirked at him. “Whatever it takes to stop the ball.”
He held up a fist, and I bumped it.
I surrendered to Gary’s instructions, letting him stretch and roll me however he wanted. It actually felt pretty damn good, but my shoulder still didn’t want to loosen. He hooked me up to an electrical muscle stimulation machine, the current set on high. Half an hour later, he did a deep tissue massage that nearly had me cussing him out.
“Get a super-hot shower. Let those oils penetrate into your skin and do their magic,” he ordered once his demonic machinations were over. “Drink at least a hundred ounces of water.” He gave me a warning look. “Stay away from alcohol, and if you do drink, double the water. You need to detox bad.”
If only he knew.
The shower room was mostly empty as most of the guys were still in post-practice rehab or soaking in an ice bath. I stripped out of the rest of my clothes and turned the faucet on high. I stepped under the water, turning it slowly to the hotter side every couple seconds to work myself up to a boil. My balls curled into my body, trying to escape the scalding hot water. I couldn’t say I blamed ‘em.”
A hand slapped me on the back. I turned to see Jack standing there. “I just wanted to say I appreciated your help.”
He dropped his towel to reveal a perfectly chiseled body and a cock that could rival my own. My eyes shifted quickly back to his, ignoring the fact that my own cock was shriveled into its hood from the heat of the shower. I knew cold could send it retreating, but heat too? Damn.
“No problem. I hope you didn’t take it personally. I think you’re a beast at bat. It’s just that amazing players are the first to be dissected.”
“Yeah. That’s true. I take it as a compliment then,” he said.
Was this guy for real? Most players would’ve tried to knock my block off for calling ‘em out like that. Or at the very least, they would’ve given me the cold shoulder for a while.
“I just hope there won’t be any awkwardness between us,” he said, dipping his head under the water.
“Why would there be?”
“I’m still not sure what exactly you and Holly mean to one another. She tried to clear it up on her end….” He lifted a shoulder and started massaging shampoo through his hair. “That story of you in the hot tub last night, wow. I guess you two got a pretty good laugh out of that.”
I was absorbing what he said, slowly processing everything as I watched him lather up.
“Why do you care about Holly and me?”
His eyes widened. “Oh shit. She didn’t tell you?”
“Tel
l me what?”
I was growing tired of this game. I needed him to spill it now.
“We’ve been dating. Just a couple times if you count the first night she arrived,” he said apologetically.
Wow. So, Jack was the real reason Holly blew me off that night? She’d told me that she didn’t want to leave Whitney alone. She lied to me?
“Two dates? When was the second?”
“I shouldn’t… I mean, this is her place, not mine.” He tried weaseling out of his detail dump.
“No. You made it your place when you opened your mouth.” I smiled, winked, and bit down on the side of my cheek, giving him a no harm no foul look.
He took his time rinsing his hair before saying, “It was right before I came out here. We hit it off pretty good. She told me she was coming to see you. I admired her honesty.”
Hit it off, huh?
My eyes fought with my brain and fell to his oversized cock. Had that damn thing taken a turn at my girl?
My girl… shit. I turned the water on cold.
“I thought since she’d told me, she told you too. I thought that was why you called me out, but then realized it wasn’t when you gave good feedback about my swing.”
I was only half listening. So my sweet little Holly wasn’t so sweet. She lied, not to this tool, but to me. She went out with this guy twice, blowing me off in the process. What else didn’t I know about sweet little Holly? Was she like everyone else, after all?
“She told me you two were just friends, with benefits actually. But, that you weren’t interested in anything more, nor was she with you.” He added to the pot of disappointing information.
“Yeah, that’s all it is,” I said, keeping my voice casual.
“So, no hard feelings?”
“Nah. Why would there be? She’s just a piece of ass. That’s all. Have at her. I’m growing tired of her anyway.”
Just as the words fell out of my mouth, Calvin stepped into the shower. I wanted to take them back, sort of. Another part of me wanted to leave them out there where they belonged. I was stupid to think there could ever be anything more between Holly and me.
That wasn’t my style anyway. I didn’t need a girl cramping my style. That was Calvin’s gig, maybe even Marty’s if he ever finds the right one. Ace Newman is a loner, a Beast, and you can’t tame a Beast.
All the work Gary had done to loosen up my muscles had gone to hell. I was even tighter now than before. This news had ruined my mood and bound me up like a wad of rubber bands.
I dressed, walked out of the locker room, and found Calvin standing in the corridor. “What the fuck do you want?” I snapped at him.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Sure. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“You looked pretty upset over the whole Holly and Jack thing.”
“I didn’t realize there was a whole Holly and Jack thing. You telling me there’s more?” I laughed, but the sound was bitter even to my own ears.
“No. I didn’t know they’d gone out again,” he said.
“But you did know about the first time?”
“Yeah. I was there. Me and Whit. It wasn’t a date exactly. Jack was with me. Holly was with me. We drank. No big deal.”
“I knew Whitney wanted me out of the picture, but I didn’t realize you did too.” I glared at him as he walked beside me, practically running just to keep up.
“She didn’t stay out late with him after we left. An hour maybe. She said they had pizza.” Calvin’s words weren’t helping my situation, or my mood.
“So, you left her with him?” I asked, stopping to stare him in the eye.
“Yes.” He gave me a hard look. “Why the hell do you care?”
That shut me up because I didn’t know how to answer him.
“Look,” Calvin said, lightening his tone. “Holly is Whitney’s best friend, and she wants her to be happy, and she knows being one of your groupies won’t do that.”
“Whitney wants?” I laughed. “Look, it’s no big deal. She can fuck anyone she wants,” I added and turned to walk away.
“Yeah. She can. You do. She deserves better,” he yelled behind me.
I circled on him. “I’ve been nothing but honest with her. Honest. That means she knew right up front that I don’t do relationships, and I won’t be stuck in anyone’s corner.”
He took a step towards me. “Guess what? You can say that all you want, but you know she’s special. And you know she’s good for you. If you weren’t such an arrogant asshole, you might realize that.”
I turned to walk away, not wanting to hear any more of this.
“Go ahead and run,” he called after me.
I slammed through the doors and into the hot Florida sun. The shuttle was on my right, so I went left, heading around the building. It was hot, much hotter than usual. My collar made my neck itch, and my hat felt sweaty against my head. My face was on fire. What the fuck was this feeling?
I didn’t want to go back to the hotel, not if Holly was going to be there. I called a cab and sat down on the curb, listening to the other guys pile into the shuttles. When my cab arrived, I had him drop me on Seabreeze Boulevard. I walked into the club Luke and I had been in a week or so ago and found the place virtually empty.
“What can I get ya, sweetie?” The bartender smiled as she leaned over the bar towards me.
“Patrón. Miller Lite in the bottle, and a Jack and Coke.”
“Wow. Bad day, babe?” she asked as she poured.
“You could say that.”
“You want some music or something? The TV?” she asked politely.
I shook my head.
The shot was the first to go, a toast to myself — time is never wasted if you’re wasted all the time. I gripped my beer, chased the tequila, and then sipped my Jack and Coke.
My phone vibrated in my pocket. I knew it was her. There was no one else who would be calling, unless it was Eve to tell me Dad was dead. Either way, I didn’t want to talk to either of them.
The jukebox kicked on to Lynyrd Skynyrd, instantly lifting my mood. “Now that’s good drinking music,” I yelled to the bartender who was on the other side of the room loading the vending machine with snack cakes.
“You need another shot?” she asked, walking back towards me on my side of the bar.
She was short, petite, blonde, and her tits weren’t bad. She wasn’t exactly my type, but then again, who gave a shit. “You know who I am?”
Her eyes squinted as she stared at me. Her mouth curled. “I don’t. Should I?”
“You should if you know anything about baseball.”
She lifted a shoulder. “I don’t really.”
I pointedly looked at her shirt, a striped jersey with the Yankee’s emblem on it. “Maybe you should take that shirt off then. It’s false advertising.”
She laughed and made her way around to the back of the bar. “Another shot? You driving?”
“Nope. I’ll take a cab so keep ‘em coming. Why don’t you do one with me and take off that misleading shirt.” I smirked.
She rolled her eyes. “Shirt’s staying on, but I’ll do a shot with you.”
Cocky. Nice.
Chatting like this made me feel more like me. No feelings being shared. No fucking emotions. Just two people getting to know each other for a few minutes.
“I’ll bet you your shirt that if you turn on the TV right now, you’ll find me on one of the sports channels.”
It was a dirty trick, but it worked. During spring training, all the TV crews loitered at the fields, and any time of the day, one of the channels had coverage of the practice, the rehabilitation, the scrimmages.
“And if you’re not?” she asked.
“Name it.”
“Fifty bucks.” She smirked. It was obvious she didn’t think I could afford the bet. It was even more apparent she thought she’d win if I did offer up the cash.
“Make it a hundred.”
She lifted an eyebrow. “Deal.”
She picked up the remote and turned on the TV above the bar. “Which channel?” she asked.
I reached over the bar, took the remote from her hand, and switched it to ESPN. I lifted my chin to the screen. “That’s me.”
“Ace Newman?” Her eyes widened then narrowed as she scrutinized me. “Holy shit, that’s you?”
“Yup. In the flesh.” I said. “And speaking of flesh… you owe me your shirt.” I loved watching her squirm.
“You have to prove that’s really you,” she demanded.
I reached behind me, pulled my wallet from my back pocket, and flashed my driver’s license. She took my wallet, stared at the license, then in front of me, opened it to see the wad of cash I always carried.
“You gonna rob me, darlin’?” I asked, and she flushed, closing it up and handing it to me.
I sipped my Jack and Coke, and then my beer, alternating flavors as I leaned back in my chair. My eyebrows rose up and down at her, motioning for her to get on with my show. I watched the indecision in her eyes as she looked around the room.
“I was kidding, Yankee. You’re at work. I know you can’t take your shirt off.” I let her off the hook, then she surprised me by reaching beneath her skirt and pulling her panties down her legs. She smiled as she held them out.
“Will these work instead?”
I lifted the purple cotton to my nose and sniffed, smiling when she blushed even more. She blushed just like Holly. Hell, she almost had her eyes.
I stuffed them in my pocket and felt the baggy of coke that I’d forgotten. Need hit me like a fist, making every part of me hurt.
“You okay?” the bartender asked, looking concerned and I realized I was sweating.
I wiped my forehead with my sleeve. “Yeah, Yankee, I’ll be right back.”
In the bathroom, I pulled out the coke and walked to the toilet, intent on flushing its temptation away. I closed the stall behind me and held the bag in my hand. It was coke and something else. Xanax I realized. For later. To help me come down.
“Don’t need it,” I muttered to myself.
I opened the bag and raised it over the toilet bowl. Then stopped.