“Kessler!” Sawyer yells from the kitchen.
Murphy can’t peel herself out of my arms fast enough. “I have to use the bathroom,” she says. “I’ll find you in a minute.”
I watch her walk away, kicking myself for saying something so stupid.
Chapter Thirty-four
Murphy
I lean against the wall next to the bathroom, waiting my turn. I close my eyes and let my head fall back as my mind replays what he said. Like isn’t a strong enough word.
He more than likes me? Is that what he meant last week when he said he was falling for me?
But this is our third date. Maybe he more than likes everyone on third dates. Maybe that’s why he has the rule to begin with.
No, that’s not him. That’s not us. We’re different. I know we are.
But I have to be sure.
I’m wondering what’s taking so long in the bathroom when I hear several voices. One girl slips out the bathroom door, but there must be three others still in there, and she left the door cracked. I turn away as one sits down to pee. They are probably too drunk to care that someone walking by could see them. I suppose I could shut the door, but I don’t. If they don’t care—why should I?
“He is beyond gorgeous,” one of them says. “I’d give anything to snag him. Hell, even if I could just have him one time. It would make my entire year.”
“So, go for it, Cindy. I mean, it is your birthday and all.”
“You’re right. God, he would be the best present, wouldn’t he? But did you see that tramp he walked in with? I’d have to get past her.”
“You are so much prettier than she is, Cin.”
“Still, he might not go for it.”
I turn and peek through the door to see if they are making any progress. I really do have to pee. I see one girl rustling through her purse. She pulls out a pill bottle, opens it and hands a pill to one of the other girls.
“Here, this will mellow him out. Crush it up and slip it in his drink. Then give him a half hour for it to kick in and we’ll distract the tramp so you can get him into a bedroom. It’ll be our present to you, right Kylie?”
My mouth hangs open. They want to drug someone? Oh, my God. I’m about to go tell Caden what I heard so he can warn all the men who are here. But before I turn away, the girl who is Kylie nods her head then looks speculatively at the others. “I don’t know, Caden is a big guy, you might need to give him two.”
My heart almost stops when they say his name. Without even thinking, I burst through the door, loudly crashing it into the wall behind it and then I slap the pills and the pill bottle out of their hands, sending them flying across the floor.
“You bitch!” one yells at me.
“Me?” I point to myself. “I’m the bitch? You are planning on drugging Caden so he will sleep with you. I’d say you’re the bitches. Not to mention criminals. You know that’s a felony, don’t you?”
“What’s going on here?” Caden asks, standing in the doorway behind me with Brady and Sawyer behind him.
I motion to the pills scattered across the floor that one of them is on her knees cleaning up. “Caden, they were in here conspiring to drug you.”
“What?” I can see fury in his eyes.
Brady and Sawyer look pissed, too.
“That one” —I point to Cindy— “said she wants you for her birthday present and the others were going to help her spike your drink with two pills and then distract me so she could take you to a bedroom.”
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me?” Sawyer says, eyeing the three guilty-looking girls.
“Oh, relax,” says the girl whose name I don’t know yet. “We just wanted to liven up the party.” She holds her hand out with some pills. “Anyone want one?”
I grab the pills from her and throw them into the toilet.
“What the hell?” she says, leaning down to pick up some others at her feet.
“You were seriously going to give that shit to me without me knowing it?” Caden asks the girls. “Do you think that’s funny? I know a girl who had it happen to her. It’s anything but funny. What the fuck were you thinking?”
“You’re a guy,” Kylie says. “It’s different.”
“How is it different?” Caden asks. “You think because I’m a guy it’s okay to fuck me without my consent?”
My skin starts to crawl. “It’s called sexual assault in case you were wondering.” My angry eyes bounce between Cindy and her friends. “You know … rape.”
“Rape?” Cindy says, rolling her eyes. “Right. Like little old me could possibly do that.”
“Well then,” I take a step forward and say to her face, “what do you call it when someone is forced to have sex against their will?”
“Whatever,” the girl with no name says, then she turns to her friends. “Let’s go get a drink.”
They scoot their way past Caden and me when Brady takes Cindy’s arm. “How about I show you the door instead? You and whoever you came with.”
Sawyer escorts the other girls behind them and then Caden puts his hands on my arms. “Are you okay?”
I shake my head because I’m not. “What if I wasn’t standing out here? What if I never heard them and they drugged you? Oh, my God, Caden.”
He pulls me into his arms. “It’s okay,” he says into my hair as he caresses my back. “I’m fine.”
“This time,” I say. “But what about next time? What if next time nobody is around to hear?”
He pulls back and looks down at me. “I could say the same thing about you, Murph. You’re a beautiful woman. Women get drugged all the time. I personally know one who did. Hell, I know a guy who did, too, although that one didn’t turn out so tragically.”
“You know two people who’ve been drugged?” I ask in abhorrence.
He nods. “Sadly, I do. It happens a lot. But they aren’t my stories to tell.”
“Of course they aren’t.”
“Are you okay, Murphy?” Brady asks, walking back down the hallway.
“I’m fine. I’m just glad I was standing here when I was.”
“We all are,” Brady says, crouching down to pick up a stray pill and toss it in the toilet. “Come on. Those bitches are gone and the party is better for it. Let’s go grab you guys a drug-free drink.”
We both laugh at his joke, but then Caden and I look at each other, knowing what just happened is far from being funny.
We sit around Brady’s living room, playing a silly word game where someone holds their phone up to their forehead and the others try to get them to say the word displayed on it.
When it’s Brady’s turn, he puts the phone to his head and Sawyer says, “Talking about a no-hitter.”
Brady shouts out his guesses. “Jinx! Superstition! Not fucking allowed!”
He guessed right—the word was ‘jinx.’ He finishes his turn and we take a break to replenish our drinks.
“Why can’t you talk about a no-hitter?” I ask.
The eyes of every baseball player in the room snap to mine. They all look at me as if I told them the moon is green.
Sawyer throws a bottle cap at Caden. “Kessler … dude, educate your girlfriend.”
Caden laughs.
I’m glad he laughed instead of stiffening uncomfortably when Sawyer called me his girlfriend.
“You can’t talk about a no-hitter when there is a possibility of having a no-hitter,” he explains. “Not even the announcers will say the words. In fact, the players won’t even talk to the pitcher between innings once he’s getting close to one. A no-hitter is one of the rarest things in baseball and we don’t do anything that could jinx it.”
“And don’t even get me started talking about a perfect game,” Brady adds. “That’s like the holy-fucking-grail of baseball.”
“So you think talking about it will make it not happen?” I ask.
“Yes!” all the players in the room say collectively.
I can’t help my giggle.<
br />
Caden nuzzles his face close to my ear. “Have I ever told you what that sound does to me?”
Instantly, my body is at complete attention. I’m aware of his hot breath flowing over my shoulder. His firm grip on my waist. His possessive stance at my side.
And I want nothing more than for him to show me.
Chapter Thirty-five
Caden
I can’t wait to get her home. My home, her home—I don’t care where. I just want to get her alone. I want to kiss her. Put my hands on her. Do whatever she’ll let me do for as long as she’ll let me do it.
She’s gorgeous. And she has an uncanny ability to look elegant even when she’s wearing something as casual as jeans and a blouse. Her heels make her even taller than she normally is, and through her fitted jeans, I can see every curve of her butt and thighs. The blue blouse that matches the color of her eyes has the two top buttons undone, exposing just enough cleavage to entice me without insisting she button up and not expose herself.
And her lips. God, those lips. I stare at them whenever she talks. Because I know what they feel like. What they taste like. I know exactly what to do to make them open for my tongue. I know exactly how to kiss her so she’ll make those sultry throaty noises.
Shit. I realize I have a rising problem. I look at my phone and see it’s almost eleven. Hoping it’s not too lame to leave this early, but thinking Brady will understand that I want to be with my girl, I ask Murphy, “Can we get out of here?”
She looks into my eyes, knowing exactly what I’m asking. “My place?” she asks, without any hint of hesitation.
My dick strains against my fly at her words as I grab her hand and shout out thanks to Brady and the quickest of goodbyes to everyone else. Laughter follows us out the door.
Murphy covers her face in embarrassment. “You know why they think we’re leaving, don’t you?”
I put my arm around her and lead her to the elevator. “I don’t care what they think, Murph. I only care what you think.”
“I think I want to take it slow. Until …” She looks up at me with a sad smile.
I nod, knowing precisely what she’s thinking. “Until you know you can trust me.”
“I’m sorry,” she says, looking down at the floor. “I know I should trust you. You’ve been nothing but a loyal friend and a courteous gentleman, but, well … this is—”
“Our third date. I know.” I put a finger under her chin and lift her head until our eyes meet. “I don’t want you to worry about what happens after this. You are the exception to the rule, Murphy. I promise you. And I’m not saying that to get in your pants. If you wanted me to wait until our twenty-third date, I’d do it. I’d wait that long for you.”
She stares at me as if she’s trying to figure out how much truth is in my words. Then she does something unexpected. Something incredible. Something she’s never done before.
She kisses me.
And I let her. I let her take control of the kiss. Of me. Right up until the elevator dings, when I push her in and cage her against the wall. “What are you doing to me, Murphy Brown?”
“Same thing you’re doing to me, Kessler.”
The twenty-minute cab ride to her apartment seems like an eternity.
She opens the door to a dark apartment and I smile. Good. No roommate. I love Trick and all, but I’ve shared Murphy enough tonight.
“Do you want a drink?” she asks, putting her purse on the entry table. “I think I have a few beers. Or maybe you’d like a bottle of water?”
“Water is good. I’ve had enough to drink tonight.”
We walk into the kitchen and she grabs two bottles from the fridge. “You don’t get drunk much, do you?”
“Habit, I guess,” I say, taking a bottle from her and unscrewing the top. “People make poor decisions when they’re drunk.”
“That’s smart,” she says, leading us back into the living room. “Someone in your position needs to be careful. Enough bad things can happen even when you’re sober.”
She looks at me and I know she’s still upset about earlier.
“Please don’t worry about that.”
“I can’t help it, Caden. I worry about a lot of things.”
“Such as?”
She shrugs. “You getting hit by a ball. You getting mauled by a fan. You getting, um … traded.”
“Traded?” I say, incredulously. “Not going to happen, Murphy Brown. Not unless I royally screw up. Which I won’t.”
I have a hard time not smiling at the fact that she’s thinking so far into the future. If I could only convince her I do the same.
“Still. I worry about you getting injured.” Her finger comes up to run along her scar.
I lean against the back of her couch and pull her into my arms. “Ball players don’t usually get stalked by fans like movie stars do, so go ahead and put that out of your head. And you’ve seen what I wear behind the plate—my catcher’s gear is top of the line. It’s going to protect me, Murph. And when I’m at bat, my eyes are laser focused on the ball. I hardly ever take a hit to my body. Catchers rarely do because we’re trained to watch the ball all the way across the plate. Taking our eyes off the ball, even for a second, could mean a stolen base, or a run. That helps us when we’re at bat.”
She leans into me, putting her head on my chest. “I’ll always worry.”
I chuckle. “Well, I’ll always worry, too. About you, Murph. It goes both ways.”
A loud noise comes from the other room. I step around her to investigate. I open the door to one of the bedrooms and look around. It happens again and I realize it came from the window. I step up to it and look outside to see some teenagers playing on the fire escape. I check to make sure the lock on the window is secure.
I realize I don’t even know whose room I’m in. I never got past the main living area the other times I’ve been here. I turn around and smile when I see what’s on the dresser. I walk over and appraise the six Nighthawks hats sitting in a row. I pick one up and turn it over to see writing on the inside. It’s a date.
I look up to see Murphy watching me from her doorway. And she’s blushing. “You weren’t supposed to see that.” She walks over and takes the hat from me, putting it back down where it was.
I pick up another and she tries to take it from me. I hold it above her head where she has no chance to get it. I look inside this one. Another date. She tries to keep me from looking inside all the others. We both laugh when she chases me around the room.
She finally gives up and falls onto her bed, with her arms covering her face. “I’m a silly sentimental girl, Caden. What can I say?”
“Where’s the sharpie?” I ask, looking around her room.
“Why?” She eyes me skeptically.
“Just give me the sharpie, Murph.”
She rolls her eyes and opens the drawer of her nightstand. Then she tosses me the black marker. I take my hat off and remove the cap of the sharpie with my mouth before I write today’s date inside my hat. Then I put all the hats back on her dresser, in chronological order with the new one at the end.
She still looks embarrassed which I find incredibly sexy. “I get it,” I tell her. “Some chicks save receipts and movie tickets. You save hats.” I crawl on top of her on the bed. “But you’d better get a bigger apartment. Because you’re going to have a shitload of hats.”
Her face lights up with a smile right before I lean down to kiss her.
This kiss is better than any of the others. It’s better because I can feel her entire body underneath me. I can feel her chest rise and fall with each heavy breath she takes. I can feel her writhe and squirm under my weight. I can feel her arch her back and press herself to me in all the right places.
We make out like teenagers in a basement. We kiss until our lips become raw. And when I’m about to die if I don’t touch her, I ask if I can.
“Murphy … God, I want you so much. I know we’re waiting. And that’s okay. I’ll wait as
long as you want. But, sweetheart, can I see you? Can I touch you?”
She stares up at me, her hair tousled and sexy. She nods. “Only if I can do the same to you.”
Holy shit. If my dick weren’t already standing at full mast, that would have done it. I get off her and sit up, grabbing my shirt and pulling it over my head. I’m turned away slightly, so she is getting her first view of my back.
She reaches up to touch my #27 tattoo on my right shoulder blade. “This is why you reach around and grab your shoulder before you go to bat, isn’t it?”
I crane my neck around and study her. “You noticed that?” It’s the one thing I’ve always done when I go up to bat. But no other woman has ever caught on. Maybe they weren’t paying enough attention.
“At first, I thought you had a sore shoulder or something. But then the more I saw you do it, the more I knew it had to be some kind of ritual.”
“I got it when I was eighteen.”
She traces the number with her fingertip, sending shivers down my spine. “And you’ll never change it, not even though you are number eight now. Because being number twenty-seven got you where you are today.”
Jesus. This woman.
I turn around and pin her to the bed. “Do you have any tattoos I should know about?”
“I guess you’ll have to look to find out.”
I eye her top and then her jeans. Then I look into her eyes again. She nods. “It’s okay. Go ahead.”
I straddle her as I unbutton her blouse, being careful to keep my weight on the bed. The opening of each button reveals more flesh I can’t wait to explore. When I’m finished with the last one, I move the blouse aside and admire her beautiful chest.
Her black lacy bra is almost transparent and I can see her stiff nipples and the outline of her areola. My hands come up her body, brushing against the sides of her ribs before I cup her breasts. She arches her back, pushing her chest further into my hands as she moans under my touch.
The Perfect Game: A Complete Sports Romance Series (3-Book Box Set) Page 18