“Don't you dare tell Scott or Lance. Do you hear me?” I snapped.
“You're really watching it. I can't believe it,” she said with a laugh.
“I turned on the television and it was already on the station with the game,” I said.
“You could have turned it you know. You wanted to watch him,” she said.
“I did not. It was on, and I wanted to see why it was so exciting to you. It had nothing to do with him.”
“Whatever you say,” she said. “You should go to the doctor.”
“I'm fine,” I said. “I'll be at work tomorrow. Don't tell boss man I'm not there.”
“Boss man is there,” she said. “He flew down there this morning. He's coming back tomorrow night. Keep me company while I finish the game.”
“I think I'm going to turn it off,” I said.
“Just watch it with me,” she said.
We sat on the phone for the rest of the game. I couldn't help but jump up and scream when Lance let someone hit the ball. Carrie was laughing so damn hard.
“Don't be so hard on him. It's not as easy as it looks,” she said. “Poor guy.”
“Come on,” I snapped. “There was no reason for that shit. He shouldn't have let it happen.”
“Maybe you should turn it off,” she said with a laugh.
“Shut it, woman,” I said with a laugh of my own. “You were the one that wanted me to watch it.”
We continued talking. Carrie yelled out a few times herself. I was cracking up. My face was hurting from smiling so much. The game actually was pretty cool. I let her go with a gigantic threat of kicking her ass if she breathed a word to anyone that I had watched a game.
I'd been able to come up with more pregnancy questions and got some of the answers off of the computer. What did women do before the internet, I wondered? Did they have pregnant lady meetings or just wait to go back to the doctor? How often did they go to the doctor?
Before I knew it, I'd gotten that answer and come up with more questions to research. Three hours had gone by before I put my laptop away.
I was making myself something to eat when my phone buzzed again. I'd had some lasagna left that I'd thrown in the freezer the night I'd made it. It was so much better than a boxed frozen dinner. Once I had my plate in front of me, I picked up my phone to find a message from Lance.
Hotshot: How was work??? My game is over, so we get a bit of time to ourselves.
All I could see in my mind was him with women all over him. It was ridiculous, but it was still there. I set the phone back down and thought for a few minutes about our situation. If I was only around eight weeks, it would be a bit before I started showing. There was no way I was telling anyone anything until I'd been to a doctor. What if they told me the test was wrong? That was possible, right? Could it be wrong? I suddenly found myself worried that I could have been wrong. The sadness that hit me was worse than any other than losing Brad. I really did want to be pregnant. Shit!
Then I thought about if and when I was going to tell Lance. He'd surely find out at some point. There was no way to keep it from him. Even if I moved to Michigan, Scott would surely open his big mouth and tell his friend. Would I want to keep it from Lance? I could never do that. As much as I was sure he was going to be pissed and think I did it on purpose, I still couldn't keep it from him. The baby was definitely his. Would he doubt me? There were always DNA tests. That would set him straight. I knew he didn't want a relationship, woman, or family, and that was fine with me. I wanted nothing from him, and I mean nothing. He wasn't going to give a shit, that much I already knew. If he wasn't going to care, then why bother to tell him, I thought? He had a right to know. Even if he walked away like Carrie's ex did, I'd have a clear conscience knowing that I told him. I couldn't imagine how it would feel finding out down the road that you had a child. I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy. I was going to tell him, just not until after the doctor and definitely not until the moment was right.
I was planning to cut off the fun we were having though. It would be too hard and too confusing for me and the situation. There was no way my child was going to have their dad with their mom occasionally. I would not bring any strange men around my child either. It was going to be me and my baby. That was where my time would be spent. I was going to love that baby more than anyone or anything.
The buzz of my phone pulled me from my thoughts.
Hotshot: We won by the way. Not that you give a shit.
I laughed when I read his message. If he only knew. A few more minutes went by before it buzzed again.
Hotshot: You need to answer me, woman. If you don't, I'm either going to have to fly home, or I'll have to send Scott in search of you. Why didn't you go to work?
I read it twice just to make sure I was reading it right. Five minutes later, it buzzed again.
Hotshot: You have five more minutes to answer me before Scott comes over to see you.
I thought about it with a smile on my face.
Hotshot: Four minutes.
Hotshot: Three minutes.
Hotshot: Two minutes.
Hotshot: One minute. I have his number up and ready to dial.
I let out a huge breath and rolled my eyes before giving in.
Me: Fucker
Hotshot: Need more than that, Firecracker. You have thirty seconds.
Me: First of all, I didn't go to work, but I didn't know I needed permission to stay home. I was sick. Second, I know you won the game, I saw it on the news. Third, why don't you go find someone to fall on your dick. Then you won't have so much time on your hands. Fourth, I know Scott is here. Carrie told me. Fifth, I will see him at work tomorrow. You can check in with him then. He can verify that I will be there. Lastly, you are not my keeper. I will not be timed on my response. Kiss my ass.
It was a few minutes before I heard the buzz I knew was coming. There was no way Lance was going to let that go. He probably had steam shooting from his ears.
Hotshot: Why are you being like that with me? I was just worried about you. I thought you were fine yesterday. Maybe you should go to the doctor. I don't like that you're alone.
Me: Why don't you have Scott come babysit me.
He could act like that wouldn't matter, but I knew it would. Especially after he went all crazy when Scott was asking him about me.
Me: I was thinking about calling to see if he wanted to come over for dinner anyway. You can save me the time.
I felt bad for anyone that was around Lance when he read my messages. He was pissing me off. I'd been just fine for five years alone. Suddenly I couldn't function and had to have a clock set for my answers. That wasn't happening.
Hotshot: You just fucking wait. Do you hear me, Firecracker? You better think about what you're doing right now. My palm is going to have that ass so fucking red in just under two weeks. Watch it, woman. I mean it. Scott will not be joining you for dinner tonight or any other night. I was worried about you.
Me: Don't be.
That was it. I wasn't saying anything else. He wasn't getting the satisfaction of knowing he was getting to me. If I went back to say Scott could come over any time he wanted, it would just get him going even more. I couldn't put his team through that.
If Lance knew that I'd watched an entire game and ogled his ass the entire time, he would have fucked with me twice as much. I was so glad Carrie swore she wouldn't tell.
Hotshot: What?
Me: Don't be worried about me. I've been fine all these years alone. I don't need anyone worrying about me now. I am fine. Everything is fine. Have a great time.
When I thought about Brad and Lance, I couldn't believe how different they were. Brad was very handsome and cute, where Lance had that manly, rugged thing going. He was muscular, while Brad was fit but not huge. Brad was sweet and rarely raised his voice. I never spoke to him the way I did Lance, so I couldn't say how he would have reacted if I had. He wasn't alpha and bossy though. He was loving and always wanted to do what mad
e me happy. Lance was the exact opposite. He was mouthy and demanding. He would never agree just to make me happy. If he said something and I said no, his head would probably explode. He definitely did things the way he wanted. They were both complete opposites. Brad was the first person to ever show me love and affection. It wasn't easy at first, but I wouldn't have traded his love for the world. He was amazing and would never dream of talking to me the way Lance did.
I thought about the last time Lance was gone for two weeks. He'd come back home, and I'd completely caved. I'm not kidding. I practically fell into his arms and begged him to fuck me. I could not do that again. Meeting up with him when he had nothing better to do was only going to make things worse. I had to stop it. He'd leave after that weekend and move along to whatever woman told him what an amazing pitcher he was. I needed to make sure we didn't run into each other that weekend at all.
I opened a text to Carrie and began typing.
Me: Not this weekend coming up but the one after that, do you feel like having company? I'll really need to see James by then. I miss his little face.
She answered right away.
Carrie: Yes!!!! I can't wait to see you.
Me: Can you keep it between us. I don't need anyone here giving me shit about it.
Carrie: Of course. I won't risk seeing my girl.
Chapter 2
Lance
Lucy was on my mind all night and the following day. I sent her a text right before the game and got nothing back. When I text her again after the game, she was different. I wasn't sure if she'd thought about what I'd said to Scott at Carrie's parents' house again or if it was something else. I even went back through my messages to make sure I hadn't said something wrong. Then I read it. The one I sent when the plane landed that said “I'm alive”. Was that it? Shit! I'd totally forgotten about her brother passing. Had I offended her? I didn't mean to. Damn! Something was definitely pissing her off.
When she said she hadn't gone to work, I worried. What if it was more than just a flu? She needed to go to the doctor. I knew she was at least talking to Carrie. She'd mentioned knowing Scott was there. Nobody was with her. Who was taking care of her? When she said something about Scott babysitting her and inviting him over for dinner, my blood was boiling. I was so pissed.
Josh came into my room to see if I was ready to go to the bar and hang out. He was one of the guys at the photo shoot for Scott's company. I'd just read her message and looked up to glare at him.
“I'm good,” I said.
“What the fuck happened to you?” he asked.
“Nothing,” I snapped. “I'm not going out tonight. I'm going to bed.”
His eyes widened and a confused look crossed his face.
“You sure?” he asked. “You never turn down a good time.”
“I am tonight,” I said, before motioning for him to leave.
“Whatever, man,” he said, as he turned and left the room.
I never turned down a good time, he was right about that. I thought about Lucy's message about having someone fall on my dick. The fucking woman pissed me off. I told her I hadn't been with anyone since her, but she didn't believe me. What made her think she was so special? She sure didn't mind moving from one man to the next. How did I know she wasn't under someone else while she was sending those messages? Just the thought pissed me off even more. I tried to call her, but the phone went to her message. I sent her a text telling her I was worried. When she sent back to not be, I shook my head. She said she'd been fine all those years and she always would be. Then she said have a great time. What the fuck was that supposed to mean? Did she really want me to be with someone else? Was she upset that I'd said “I'm alive”? I hadn't meant anything by it. I also didn't want to ask her. If that was it, I didn't want to say the words or type them again. It would only make it worse. I typed out a quick message.
Me: I'm sorry for what I sent last night. I know it can't be easy for you. I'm sorry for worrying about you too. I can't help it.
I didn't want her to know that I'd followed her to her brother's grave, but I wanted her to know I was there for her.
Firecracker: What the hell are you talking about, Hotshot? I'm fine. No need to worry. Concentrate on playing ball. That's what's important.
I read that message over and over. Was she being serious, or was she just being a pain in my ass? That one line could be taken so many ways. She could have meant that I put it before everything else, which I did and always would. She could have meant that she wanted to be more important to me, but that wasn't her. She could have meant that my career was important, but that couldn't have been it, she didn't take it seriously in the first place. To her I was just throwing a ball around and getting paid to do it.
Each time I read the message, I put more and more thought into it. When the door to my room opened again, I snapped back to reality. It was Josh again.
“Come on, man,” he said. “There are so many sexy women down there. You need to get you some pussy so you snap out of your shitty mood.”
I looked at my phone and then back at him. He was right, I was sitting around like a pussy going over one line of text over and over. It was ridiculous. I was Lance Smith. I didn't do relationships, not ever. When I stood up, I left the phone in my room. There was no way I was going to be tempted to message her. She didn't want me. She'd made that clear over and over. I didn't need someone that didn't give a shit about me when I could be with someone that would. I followed Josh out of my room and down the hall to the elevator.
When we walked into the hotel bar, there were women everywhere. I looked over at him to see that huge grin on his face. He nodded before walking away and putting each arm around a different woman. Both of the ladies giggled away, as he pulled them along with him. I walked over and sat down at the bar.
I'd only been there for a couple of minutes when a tall, beautiful woman walked up and took the spot next to mine.
“You're Lance,” she said, and I nodded. “You're amazing. I'm sure you've heard that a million times already. You are so damn sexy. I watched that game today and couldn't take my eyes off of you. The way you jumped to catch that ball in the beginning of the game was the hottest thing I'd ever seen.”
It was a great catch, I thought. The woman next to me was the kind of woman I needed. She respected the game, and I knew she'd be happy to be on my arm and in my bed.
“You like baseball?” I asked.
“I love it,” she said with a smile. “I'm Jessica. Why are you sitting alone over here? Come join the rest of us.”
I knew I should do it. Everything in me was yelling at me to get up and follow her. My cock needed a release like you wouldn't believe, and she was more than willing to give it just that. Then I thought about her words “join the rest of us” and looked over. There were women all over the rest of the guys. It was actually ridiculous. Was she saying she was just like them? It sounded that way to me. Then I thought about Lucy. At least I knew when she was with me it had nothing to do with my status as a baseball player. The woman sitting next to me was only there so she could fuck a Pirate. It had nothing to do with me as a person. She knew nothing about me, and she didn't care. How fucked up was my thinking, right? I should have been more than thrilled to do her and then walk away. That was who I was. That was who I always was. Why the fuck was I comparing her to Lucy, I wondered? The woman sitting there wouldn't dream of talking to me the way Lucy did. You'd think I'd grab her hand and run to my room, but I didn't. I looked over at the guys and shook my head. There were five of them over there surrounded by pussy. I could have been one of them. The rest were in their rooms. That was where I wanted to be. I wanted to go back to my room. What the fuck, I thought? That shit needed to stop. No matter what I tried to tell myself so that I would take the damn woman to my room and fuck her, I just didn't feel like it. I gave her a small smile and stood up. Her face lit up, and I could see the excitement behind her eyes. I don't think so, I thought.
“It wa
s nice talking to you, Jessica,” I said. “I'm not feeling it tonight, but my guys over there will take good care of you. Have a great night.”
I heard an annoying whine come from her before I turned and quickly got the hell out of there.
When I got to my room, I went straight for the shower. My cock was making me think crazy. I let the water run over my head and down my body. With one hand against the shower wall, I reached down and wrapped my other hand around my shaft. I began stroking it slowly at first. My eyes closed as I gripped it and began sliding up and down it faster. The drop of cum that sat at the tip made me think of Lucy. I wanted her on her knees. I wanted it to be her tongue licking it off. I let my head fall back, as I continued thinking about her while I chased my release. I thought about how red her ass was going to be when I got my hands on her again. The more I thought about her, the harder my dick got. I continued moving my hand up and down, and all I could think about was being buried balls deep inside of her. When I came and jolt after jolt shot out and hit the shower wall, I was hoping I'd be able to fall asleep quickly and get her out of my mind.
The next day, I found myself on the mound with her in my thoughts again. She shouldn't have been there. The game was all that I should've been thinking about. I thought about her sitting in the stands watching me play. I don't know why I wanted that. She didn't give a shit about any of it. Why did I want to turn her into a fan of the game? None of it made sense. She'd been around Carrie and her family for well over a year and it hadn't happened. Why did I think it could be different for me? Why did I want her to like something she didn't? It wouldn't matter one bit to my career or my life. Why was I even thinking about it? I'd text her that we'd won the night before. She said she'd seen it on the news. All I was hoping for was a simple congratulations or good job. She couldn't do it. All she could do was point out that she'd already known. Why I needed her acknowledgment, I didn't know. It wouldn't mean shit anyway. She was real. There was no way she'd say something just to make me feel good. That wasn't how she was.
Playing Hardball: Part 3 Page 2