by Alice Ward
I hated to tell her things would probably only get worse, so I didn’t.
Holly decided to stick around for the week, which kept Ace preoccupied trying to satisfy her at night and gave Whitney someone to sit with during the day while we practiced. I loved having her in the stands watching us play, but I knew all the women hanging around made her jealous. The other benefit to Ace being preoccupied was the fact he wasn’t tugging on my arm to go out and party with him, something I knew drove Whitney wild, and not in a good way.
“Hey, Calvin,” a female voice called from the stands. I turned and looked just in time to see a large set of breasts exposed for my benefit. Red paint tainted her skin to match my number — 10 — with the zero perfectly placed around her nipple. I smiled, laughed, and then felt the heat of Whitney’s eyes on me. Ace danced around the field like a fool, playing it up for all the ladies and egging the blonde to continue lifting her top.
I gave Whitney a quick kiss before I headed into the locker room. Her lips were tight and her body tense, so I knew she wasn’t pleased about the cheering from the ladies, mainly the one who exposed her massive tits at least seven times before the coach intervened.
“I’ll be quick,” I promised and then ducked into the locker room.
“Hey, hot shot!” Ace yelled out as I opened my locker. “You in trouble?”
I shook my head, not in the mood for one of his lectures on why I should be single.
“I think your girl was pretty pissed off about those titties,” he teased.
“She’s fine,” I lied, knowing good and damn well she was anything but fine. I would hear about it later, I always did. It was getting old and sometimes I actually thought about what Ace said on the field during practice.
Single men don’t get bitched at when women flash their tits, they get laid!
As expected, Whitney wanted to discuss the woman on the field. “Why didn’t the coach remove her?” she scolded. “That’s indecent and distracting.”
Indecent, no. Distracting, sure.
“Can we just have a good time tonight?” I begged. I knew the exhaustion in my voice was another issue we would discuss later, how I didn’t understand where she was coming from and that my attitude made her feel like a nag.
Well, if it quacks like a duck, and it looks like a duck, it’s probably a fucking nag!
“Holly’s leaving tomorrow, so we’re going to have a great night, and then I get you all to myself,” I said, hoping to interject some happiness back into our conversation. “It’s been rough having to share you.”
“Yeah, I have to share you all the time,” she snapped, the words flying at me like a whip. It pissed me off, especially when I looked down at another new outfit she’d bought. Two thousand bucks for a pair of shorts, a top, and some shoes. It made me want to snap back at her, remind her that her sharing me was keeping her well fed and dressed.
Finally, we were back at the apartment and out of the car where it felt like I was being suffocated. Here, I could sit and relax in front of the TV for at least an hour while she frantically got ready for our night out. Holly was at Ace’s — all her stuff was moved there a few days ago — so he couldn’t say they weren’t sleeping now. He was actually letting her stay the night, a rule that he once said couldn’t be broken.
“I won’t be long,” she promised.
“Take your time, baby,” I said, meaning take extra time, please.
I fell onto my recliner and pushed the power button on the remote. ESPN was on, and shots of our recent scrimmage were playing as the hosts were arguing over our chances to make it to the playoffs, or possibly even winning it.
“This new pitcher, Calvin Malone, he was born and raised in cow country. That boy is grass fed and ready to roll with a golden arm and an eagle eye. He’s going to take them all the way,” one of the hosts boasted.
“He’s young, naïve, and I bet this city eats him alive before they even start the season,” the other argued.
I clicked the power button off and tossed the remote onto the coffee table. I could hear the shower running in the other room. I’d taken one in the locker room, but I felt the urge to slip in and help Whitney with hers. I slid off my shorts and pulled my t-shirt over my head. My erection was about half-way there, and as I pulled open the curtain to her beautiful, soaking wet body, it peaked to its full potential.
She wasn’t receptive at first, but as I took over washing her with the loofah, slowly running it over her smooth skin, she let out that familiar soft sigh. I knew that meant she was happy. She didn’t even know she was doing it, but it only happened when she relaxed from something stressful.
Before long, I was inside her, her body arching back against mine. All the stress of the day, of the week, it was gone as the toxins exploded out of my body and hers and onto the shower floor. I held her tightly in my arms as the drain washed away our stress. Gentle kisses against her neck made her twist and turn in my arms for a loving hug. In that moment, I couldn’t imagine living my life without her.
I dressed and slicked back my hair within a few minutes, leaving me plenty of time to catch up on more sports news. Thankfully, they had moved on from debating me and were now onto other new players. As Whitney called into the living room to tell me she’d be ready in ten minutes, I noticed Ace’s face on the screen.
“Is the biggest player in the league ready to settle down?” a female reporter asked.
Another picture popped up on the screen with him holding Holly’s hand as they walked into his large condo. I quickly shot a text to my hired driver and let him know we would be ready to roll in ten and shut the TV off. I’d save this information for later; God, I hoped he hadn’t seen it yet, I would love to be the one to tell him what everyone was saying.
Whitney finally exited the bedroom. She was wearing a cute white sundress with a light pink shawl draped over her shoulders, a pair of pale pink flat sandals and carrying a matching purse. I immediately wondered how much this new get-up would cost me before pushing that thought from my mind. Whatever the cost, if it made her happy, that’s all that mattered.
I gripped her around the waist and gently pressed my lips against hers. Her face wasn’t caked with makeup, and her hair was simple, brushed to flow over her shoulders. She looked like the girl I fell in love with, not the one Holly was trying to create with their shopping sprees.
“You look absolutely adorable,” I said, meaning it.
“It’s not too casual?” she asked, looking down at her shoes.
“No, it’s perfect.”
I took her hand and guided her out of the apartment and down the stairs where our driver was waiting with the back door open.
Whitney got her first peek at Ace’s bachelor pad, at least the outside of it as we pulled up. I had been there once, just for a minute after practice one day, so I was grateful they were headed out the front door as we arrived. If Whitney got a peek inside his party pad, she certainly would have more reason to complain about him.
The girls immediately started chattering, something about how cute one another looked, how they would miss each other, blah, blah, blah. I reached into the mini bar and opened two beers, handing one to Ace, smirking as I waited to see if he knew about the press. It didn’t appear he had heard anything.
“What’s wrong with you, man?” he asked.
“Nothing,” I said casually. “Just wondering how you’re doing.”
“I’m great. You, on the other hand, are acting like a freak.” He gave a nervous laugh.
I managed to keep my mouth shut as we enjoyed a nice dinner, but when a large busted blonde came up to our table and asked for his autograph, I leaned in and whispered in his ear, “You’re not a single man anymore my friend, better be careful.”
The look he gave me was dangerous. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
I lifted my glass to my lips, making him wait while I took a long drink. “You need to start reading the news or turn on your TV in between your littl
e fuck sessions.”
He began scrolling through his phone, and when his face turned pale, I leaned over to check that he had found the photo of he and Holly. “This is bullshit!” he said, a little too loud for the quiet restaurant.
“It’s no big deal,” I told him. “She’s leaving tomorrow. You can get your bad boy reputation back in no time.”
I knew he hadn’t settled down with Holly. He had bragged to me repeatedly about his conquests in the men’s room, in the lockers after everyone else had left, and of course, the cleaning lady he banged one morning while Holly was in the shower.
I immediately regretted opening my mouth in the middle of dinner because everything went downhill quick. Ace’s mood darkened and he withdrew from the discussion. He snapped at everyone who came up to him and ignored Holly the rest of the evening.
Camera’s flashed, and paparazzi tossed questions at us so quickly it was impossible to respond. Whitney pulled my hand towards the car and out of the limelight, once again pissed at the attention. Ace seemed uneasy in front of the cameras for the first time, pulling his hand away from Holly’s and simply putting his hand on her back to guide her to the car.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Calvin
I stood at the airport security line where Whitney was saying her last goodbye to her best friend. Tears ran down their faces, their arms gripped around each other’s waists tightly. You would’ve thought they were never going to see one another again. I didn’t understand women and their heightened, and what I felt irrational, emotions.
Ace didn’t even come with us to see her off, so why did I have to?
“Keep Ace out of trouble for me,” Holly said as she made her way to the long line.
Yeah, right!
I waved, smiled, and gripped Whitney’s arm to pull her away before they clung back on to one another again. I managed to get her out of the airport and into the car before she fell apart for the twentieth time that morning. “She’s coming back soon,” I assured her.
I was happy to have Whitney back to myself, no more sharing her with Holly, but the thought of Ace pulling me back into the nightlife was lingering in my mind as well. Things would’ve been so much easier if she had never come.
“She really likes him,” Whitney said, her voice still shaky from her earlier meltdown. I pulled up to the parking attendant window where a young redhead with tattooed arms and a piercing in her nose chomped on a piece of gum. She lit up when she noticed who I was, her hand pausing on mine as I handed her the pass.
“Can I get your autograph?” she said in a soft tone that didn’t match her tough exterior, pushing a blank parking pass in my direction with a pen.
“Sure,” I agreed, scribbled my name and then winked at her as I handed it back. She was a hot little number with beautiful green eyes and thick red lips. I wondered what else she had pierced as Whitney slapped my arm.
“Did you hear what I said?” she snapped. Shit, no, I hadn’t listened to a word of it.
“Sorry, baby,” I apologized and pulled away from the window, leaving the hot young redhead forever, suddenly feeling irritated at Whitney for being the reason I would never know what other piercings were on her milky white body. “What did you say?”
“I said she likes him,” she repeated with a harsh tone, her eyes snapping fire at me. I thought back to the redhead and her soft eyes looking at me in adoration. The woman I loved only seemed to look at me as a credit card or someone to bitch at.
“Who?” I asked, realizing it was a dumb question as soon as it fell out of my mouth.
“Holly likes Ace,” Whitney barked and crossed her arms over her chest in irritation.
“Oh, well, I hope she likes him since she’s fucking him” I said calmly, not really understanding the problem, or how I was supposed to resolve it.
“Has he mentioned having any feelings for her?” she asked.
Oh God, why me?
Ace mentioned plenty of feelings about Holly. To name a few — her ass felt tight, her breasts felt like a perfect fit for his mouth, and oh yeah, he felt like she couldn’t get enough of his rock hard cock — but I was pretty sure that wasn’t the sort of answer Whitney was looking for.
“Not really,” I said instead.
“Nothing at all, not even that he likes her?” she pushed, her voice growing gratingly high.
“Well, he obviously likes her or he wouldn’t have spent that much time with her,” I said. “But, guys don’t talk about that kind of stuff, especially not guys like Ace Newman.”
Whitney had spent the entire week trying to tell Holly that falling for a guy like Ace was a bad idea, so why was she now pushing me to try to what? Play matchmaker?
It felt like fifth grade. Check yes or no. Should I slip him a note at practice? Do you like Holly? It all felt insane to me. Thank God she was gone. Maybe she would find another poor sap to fall for in the meantime and forget all about Ace. Wishful thinking, I knew…
“I just feel bad for her,” Whitney pushed herself down into the seat of my new Porsche, a purchase I made without her consent a couple days ago. When I told her it was my money, I found out how angry she could get. I had no idea my sweet girl had fangs, but I know now.
Her legs were crossed, and her knees fell towards me. My eyes focused on the smoothness of her skin and the hem of her skirt. She looked damn sexy in this car. I was glad she didn’t fight me too hard on keeping it once I promised to never make a large purchase without her again. I did actually feel bad about my decision once she pointed out we hadn’t even looked for a place of our own yet. She was right. But again, she’d had her friend come running to her rescue, and it had been a pretty hectic week.
“She’ll be fine,” I assured her and punched the buttons on the stereo until I found an old rock song I liked. I turned it up just enough to stop her from trying to continue the conversation, but not loud enough for her to realize that was the purpose.
I pulled in front of our apartment building with only enough time to give her a quick kiss and reassure her once again that her friend was a big girl and that she would be fine. My eyes lingered on her legs and got a quick peek of her white panties as she tried to get out of the low car with some dignity. I could see why Ace liked this car. Not a bad view from the driver’s seat.
The door slammed shut, and she bent over into the passenger side window. “I love you,” she said sweetly. “I’m sorry for going on about Holly, I just worry about her getting attached and Ace not feeling the same.” She smiled, and her eyes melted into mine before she turned and walked away. As I pulled off, I felt bad. I knew that Ace didn’t feel the same way about Holly, not if love or even serious like was involved.
He wasn’t capable of love.
“Hey, hot shot!” the man of the hour called out as I entered the locker room.
I turned, smiled, and gave a quick wave before heading to my own space, hoping to avoid some long drawn out story about some hot blonde or two brunettes that he banged while I drove Holly to the airport and listened to Whitney cry about how he would probably hurt her. Hell yes, he was going to hurt her. That’s what Ace did. Love ‘em and leave ‘em. The thing was, Holly knew that going in, so why the hell was everyone so surprised?
And why would Holly be any different from the rest?
“You’re late,” he hissed as he patted me on the back. “Big scrimmage game today,” he continued without any real regard for how insensitive he was being.
“Yeah, I had to take Holly to the airport,” I snapped back. His face changed for a moment, almost like he felt bad, but quickly turned to his crooked smile.
“I didn’t think that one was ever gonna leave,” he said coolly. “She was cramping my style.” His head rolled around his shoulders like he was soothing a sore neck. “See ya on the field, kid.”
My fists clenched, and my shoulders tensed and tightened at his indifference for not only Holly’s feelings but my own. I was the one who had to listen to Whitney whine over the mess he
was about to make, and kid, hot shot, really? Who did he think he was?
“What’s got you all wound up?” Marty asked, stopping me from taking a swing at something.
I shook it off, pulled myself together, deciding to take out my frustration on the batters about to face me. I patted Marty on the back and gave his shoulder a quick squeeze. “Nothing. See ya out there.” I rushed him off so I could finish getting dressed and stretch my arm.
The scrimmage was brutal. We were up against the Yankees, who I might add, were none too happy to have a new team step onto their turf. My focus was gone, my pitches flying without my usual control, leaving opportunities one after another for the Yankees to score.
I was glad when it was over, relieved that I didn’t have to stand on that mound and continue the humiliation not only for myself but for my entire team. Coach was obviously pissed as I walked past him towards the locker room, his eyes glaring at me with more than just a little disappointment.
“Where was your head today?” he yelled directly at me once we were all packed in the central meeting area. “Obviously not in the game!” His ebony skin turned an odd shade of pale from the strain.
“We all have bad days,” Marty offered some comforting words as he patted me on the ass. He knew all about bad days. Hell, his last season was full of bad days.
Ace glared at me, and I ignored him. A part of me wanted to go over there and punch him in his smug face. He was the reason I wasn’t focused, his little tryst with Holly had created stress at home, and now on the field.
“Let’s go get a drink,” Marty said. “Shake it off.”
“Yeah, I could use a drink,” I admitted, realizing I didn’t want to go home, at least not yet. Whitney had enough on her mind. She didn’t need to worry about me as well. But, I’d be smart this time and call first and not stay out late.
“Good, I’ll meet you out front,” he said and left me to finish getting undressed.