Keeping Score

by Alyssa Kale

  I jump back with a squeal, my body folding forward and my hands covering my already covered body parts. Braxton steps into view, going to sit at the small table on the other side of the room. Two coffees and two to-go containers with what I assume is breakfast sit in front of him on the table.

  “Shit,” I say, holding my chest. “You scared me.”

  “Sorry. I went out and got breakfast. Good shower?” he asks again with a smirk on his face, and I can tell he heard me moaning during my impromptu self-love session. I blush. Not like a sweet, demure blush, but more like a my-face-is-on-fire, red-faced blush.

  “Uhhh… yeah. It was good,” I blurt out, ignoring what is the obvious elephant, or orgasm, in the room. Moving around, I continue searching for my clothes, but I’m not seeing them on the floor where I know they should have landed. “Where are my clothes?”

  “Oh, they’re hanging up in the closet,” he answers with a shrug. I look at him, confused as to why he’d hang up clearly dirty clothes, but before I can ask, he jumps in with, “After you fell asleep last night, I sent all of our things down to the laundry so we wouldn’t be wearing dirty clothes walking out of here.”

  “Oh,” I say, at a loss for words that he’d even think to do that. I open the closet, and there everything hangs, including my bra and underwear. I blush again, hating that someone else washed my underwear and the state in which they were when they did. Regardless, I’m thankful to have clean clothes to wear.

  I tug everything from the hangers, holding them close to me as I scramble to the bathroom. Back safely behind the bathroom door, I take a deep breath and will my heartrate to slow. Just because he was smirking doesn’t mean he heard me.

  Who am I kidding? He absolutely heard me. Kill me now. Quickly, I dress and hang the towel on the hook behind the door with one mission. Coffee. Because, coffee is life.

  When I’m back in the room, Braxton has pulled the lids off the to-go containers, and I can see he bought a multitude of things. Pastries, fruit, bacon, sausage, eggs, and yogurt.

  “I didn’t know what you liked, so I just grabbed an assortment of things. Take what you want,” he says as he gestures to the table.

  “Thank you. It all looks fantastic.” Opting to be somewhat healthy, I grab some eggs, fruit, and yogurt and take a long sip of my coffee. So good.

  “So—” he says, as I cut him off with “This is—”

  I motion for him to continue as I shovel a piece of fruit into my mouth. No reason to tell him this is awkward. He’s here. He knows.

  “I was just going to say I really am sorry for how I behaved the first time we met. I could tell something was bothering you, but instead of asking if you were okay, I was just a dick.”

  Leaning back in my seat, I wipe my mouth with a napkin. “Braxton, you’ve already apologized. It’s fine; we’ve moved on. Clearly, after last night, I’ve forgiven you.”

  His shoulders drop in obvious relief. I can’t help but take the opportunity to tease him. “Of course, if you want to continue to apologize by offering me more tickets, I won’t say no. Those seats were amazing.”

  “Yeah?” he asks with a raised brow, that sinful smile making an appearance.

  “First base seats. Is there anything better?” I grin.

  Leaving a bar with him last night and spending the night screaming his name didn’t shock him as much as my appreciation for an excellent seat at a game. “You watch baseball?”

  “I haven’t in a long time,” I comment with a shrug and a sip of my coffee. “My dad and I used to go to games all the time.”

  “Oh. Why’d you stop?”

  His question shouldn’t bother me; he’s only curious. But it tugs at that deep-rooted sadness I keep hidden. “My mom was killed in a car accident, and things just haven’t been the same since.” My explanation is quick, because even though it’s been ten years, it still makes my heart ache. That pain will never go away.

  I move on from the subject. “My dad went to the game with me, and we had an amazing time. It was good for both of us so, thank you.”

  “I’m sorry for your loss and glad to hear you enjoyed the game. I’m also relieved to hear you like baseball. It would have been awkward if you hated the tickets.”

  “Oh, I love baseball.” I smile.

  He smiles back. “Maybe you’ll start watching it again, now that you have someone to root for.” A hint of arrogance laces his comment, and I simply roll my eyes.

  Stabbing my fork in the eggs in front of me, I lift the bite to my mouth and comment, “Maybe.”

  He seems happy with that response. I can’t help myself though. “But who says I’m an Aces fan?”

  He narrows his eyes at me. “Please don’t tell me you’re a New York fan.”

  I laugh and start to joke with him even more, but settle on, “No, I’ve always been an Aces fan. I just haven’t watched a game or kept up with the team in years.”

  “Phew.” He holds his hand up to his chest and laughs. “I thought I was going to have to take back all those fantastic orgasms I gave you last night.” Up until now, we’ve not mentioned exactly what happened last night, although the messy bed is a dead giveaway. His response catches me off guard, and I choke a little on my food, but not enough to stop him from continuing. “Can’t have something that amazing being wasted on a fan of our rival.”

  I just shake my head, unable to come up with a retort. Braxton has rendered me speechless more than anyone else. I’m not sure how I feel about that.

  “Well, I have a game in a few hours, so my day is booked. What are you up to?”

  “Not much today. I have some furniture pieces being delivered tomorrow, so I’ll probably run errands today, since the delivery time is ‘sometime from sunup to sundown.’”

  “Sounds like a busy day for us both. What’s the address for your place? I’ll order you a car.”

  I push down the disappointment that he’s dismissing me so easily. It isn’t as though I thought we’d spend the day together or anything, but it still feels a little off-putting. Rattling off the address to my complex, I watch as he taps on his phone.

  Gone is the carefree banter of earlier, and in its place is tension. Unlike last night, it isn’t sexual but, instead, it’s full of awkwardness. Slipping on my shoes, I locate my purse and sling it across my body. Before I can take a step toward the door, Braxton grabs my hand and pulls me to him. No words are exchanged as he kisses me with fervor and promises of what could be if there wasn’t a car waiting for me downstairs. His hands tangle in my hair, his need evident against my thigh.

  When Braxton releases my mouth, his hands still cup my face, forcing me to look him in the eye. “I had a great time last night, Sophie.”

  I nod, agreeing, unable to form any words.

  Stunned, I allow him to lead me from the room. We retrace our steps from last night, and he never lets go of my hand. That is, until the elevator doors open on the ground floor. It’s then, he ushers me ahead of him but doesn’t touch me again. He’s behaving like we’re just acquaintances walking through the lobby toward our final destination. When I see people whispering and phones pointed our direction, I understand the distance.

  When I arrive at my complex, I thank the driver and surpass my apartment, heading straight to Kendall’s. Unlocking the door with my spare key, I find my bestie on the sofa watching an episode of Friends. The moment she spots me, she reaches for the remote, turning the television off.

  “Sooo… tell me everything.” Her smile is huge, and her giddiness is written all over her face.

  “Oh my gosh, Ken,” I begin as I throw myself on the couch next to her. “Literally the best sex I’ve ever had in my life.”

  “Really?” She smiles and holds her hands to her chest in a prayer pose. “Please tell me he’s hung like a horse.”

  I laugh but nod and show her his size with my hands. This isn’t like one of those fishermen moments where I elaborate.

  “Wow, girl,” she says, stunned. �
��I gotta be honest. I didn’t think you’d go through with it.”

  I shake my head. “Me neither, but I’m glad I did. Those were the best damn orgasms I’ve had in my life.”

  She squeals like a twelve-year-old schoolgirl at a Justin Bieber concert.

  “Owww,” I say. “Now there’s a ringing in my ear.”

  “Sorry,” she replies, but she’s not really sorry. She’s excited I slept with—screwed, her word—Braxton “Mr. Sexy Baseball Player” Lee.

  I just shake my head and change the subject. “So what did you end up doing last night?”

  “Well, I came home and watched about ten episodes of Friends.” There’s no shame in her game whatsoever as my eyes bug out. I’m down for a marathon of the best show of all time, but ten? That seems a little excessive. “What? I was bored. My date abandoned me to fuck Braxton Lee.” She laughs.

  I push her shoulder. “You jerk. You’re the one who talked me into going with him.”

  “I know.” She smirks. “And you got the best damn orgasms ever out of it.” She winks. Bitch fucking winks. But… she isn’t wrong.

  13

  * * *

  BRAXTON

  As I follow the GPS’s directions, I second-guess myself at least a dozen times. Is this even okay? Does this qualify as overstepping? I like to think of it as more a friendly gesture. Just a friend stopping by unannounced with coffee. Seems reasonable. The voice of my GPS tells me my destination is approaching. Shit, this is a huge complex. How will I find her apartment without a number?

  Slowly, I proceed through the complex, looking for either Sophie or her friend walking around or—Yes! As I turn the corner, I spot an IKEA truck pulling in, and I follow it. That’s when I see her walking out of an apartment.

  Wearing skintight workout clothes that leave little to the imagination, she looks relaxed and carefree. Her smile is wide, and the minute she throws her head back in laughter, I can’t help but smile myself. Kendall steps out next to her doing a little dance, and then they’re laughing. Both women are beautiful in their own way, but it’s Sophie who has my attention.

  Memories of her body beneath mine, slick with sweat as she chased her climax, flash in my mind. There’s no denying Sophie’s beauty. Her sexiness. She has a sex appeal that many models strive to emulate but never quite grasp. The best part is that she isn’t even trying.

  I have to shake off my thoughts before I get out to greet her or my dick is going to tell everyone hello before I can utter a word. Pulling into an empty space, I step out of my truck and grab the housewarming gift and tray of coffees.

  “Hey.” Not the most original greeting, but hopefully my smile makes up for it.

  “Ummm… hi,” Sophie says, shock written all over her face. “What are you doing here?”

  “I wanted to bring you this for your new place. Plus, you mentioned a furniture delivery, so I thought maybe I could help.” Accepting the gift bag, Sophie tugs her bottom lip between her teeth and looks down at her feet.

  “And I’ll take these,” Kendall says, grabbing the tray of drinks from my hand before turning on her heel and heading into the apartment.

  “Looks like Kendall has taken off with your coffee. Come on inside.”

  When we enter the apartment, the delivery guys are standing with Kendall while she signs their papers. Sophie drops down onto the sofa, and when I take the seat next to her, I realize this is one of the new items delivered.

  “Are you going to open your gift?”

  Before she can respond, she tosses out thank yous to the delivery guys and takes the coffee Kendall hands her. After a few sips, she places the cup on the side table and begins pulling the tissue paper from the bag.

  When she pulls out the tool kit, her brow furrows in obvious confusion. “It’s always a good idea to have your own personal tool kit.”

  “You’re right. This will come in handy. Thank you, Braxton.”

  “You’re very welcome. There’s more.” I motion to the bag as she looks back inside.

  Her smile is infectious. “Now you’re talking. Look, Ken. A year subscription to a wine club.”

  “I have a feeling you ladies like your wine. I figured one practical gift was plenty.”

  “The wine is absolutely practical. We approve,” Kendall says with a smirk as she settles on the smaller love seat across from where Sophie and I sit.

  “Did you get everything moved in?”

  Pulling her feet up onto the couch and tucking them beneath her, Sophie sighs and takes a sip from her coffee. “Well, there wasn’t much. My life literally fit in two large suitcases and a box.” She laughs nervously. I can’t help but wonder why she didn’t have any furniture and not many belongings.

  “Oh, okay, that makes it easier, I guess.”

  Really, it makes no sense to me. I can’t imagine picking up and moving with only a few belongings. Hell, I lived in an apartment with a roommate before buying my place, and it still took me two loads in my truck to move.

  “Yeah, it does. Besides, it means I get new furniture,” she says. “My bestie did manage to find me a full bedroom suite from her coworker who is being transferred to another state. She didn’t want to move with it, so she just gave it to me.”

  “Well that was nice and one less thing you have to worry about. I see some boxes over there. How about we put that tool set to use?”

  Sophie smiles wide, pure happiness on her face. Knowing I’m the one to put it there is a feeling similar to a grand slam. Pure elation and gratification.

  A few hours and a minimal amount of swear words later, the three of us have put together a desk, chair, and bookcase.

  “Man, that didn’t take as long as I thought it would,” Kendall says as she stands up and stretches.

  “No, it didn’t,” Sophie agrees. “I’ll be right back.” She walks off toward the restroom, and awkward silence commences between Kendall and me, but just for a moment.

  “Sooo…” Kendall clicks her tongue. “Why are you here?”

  I’m not easily intimidated. I can’t be. Imagine if the opposing team smelled fear. We’d never have a winning record. Yet, sitting here on the floor across from Kendall, I admit I’m a little on the defensive. “I had some time this morning, and she told me she was moving. I thought I would help.”

  “But why?” She pushes for more.

  “Full disclosure?” I ask, and Kendall nods. “I don’t know.”

  “If you hurt her, I’ll gut you.” She squints her eyes and points her finger as she says this. She’s a little scary.

  “I’m not going to hurt her. We’re just friends,” I say with my hands in an I surrender gesture.

  Snorting a laugh, Kendall stands, peering down at me with her hands planted firmly on her hips. “Friends? No. Friends don’t sleep together like you two did.”

  “Friends with benefits do,” I spout off.

  Kicking at me but missing, she growls. I know I’ve gone too far and hope she doesn’t try another kick. “Soph is not a ‘friends with benefits’ type of person. Sophie Thomas is a forever kind of woman. She deserves more than to be a booty call or a one-night stand.” She looks at me dead in the eye again. “I’m telling you right now, Lee, if you hurt her, I’ll hurt you. If you plan on having sex with her again, you better be ready for more than friends, or there will be nothing at all.”

  Before I can offer a retort, Sophie walks back in, looking like she’s not feeling all that well. “What are you two talking about?”

  Kendall walks over to her, “Just some idle chit-chat. Trying to figure out who that damn flamingo is on The Masked Singer.” I am grateful for her fast thinking. “I think it’s that Cheetah Girls chick.”

  I have no idea what she’s talking about, but I just nod and say, “Yup.”

  “Oooh, fun. I think that’s who it is too.” Sophie’s voice is quiet, and as I take her in; she looks pale. A little ashen if I’m honest. “I’m not feeling so good. I think I overworked myself today. Would it
hurt y’all’s feelings if I asked you to leave so I can take a nap?”

  “No,” I say at the same time Kendall says, “Not at all, doll.”

  “Okay, good.”

  Tentatively, like moving is painful, Sophie takes a few steps toward Kendall, letting her friend wrap her in a hug. Resting her head on Kendall’s shoulder, she says, “I’ll take you two out to dinner as soon as the Aces have another break in their schedule.”

  “No need. I had fun,” I reply, stepping toward her. I want to pull her into my body and wrap my arms around her but refrain. Instead, I squeeze her elbow and offer a small smile.

  When we make it to the door, Kendall turns to Sophie and says, “Rest up. I’ll check on you later.”

  Kendall and I don’t speak as we walk down the pathway, the silence awkward because I know she has something to say. More to say.

  “Do you think she’ll be okay?”

  “Yeah. She’s been running herself into the ground the last few weeks. She probably needs a good night’s sleep. I’ll check on her in a bit. Hey, don’t you have a game tonight?”

  I make it to the stadium with only minutes to spare before I’m officially late for warmups. Thankfully, Tucker and Marion also showed up seconds after me. It’s rare any of us are late, let alone three starters on the same day. Once we’re changed and out on the field, I push away thoughts of this morning and focus on my job and winning tonight’s game.

  We play hard. Just not hard enough. The other team’s defense outplays us, and we lose four to two. You win some, you lose some in baseball. Even with home field advantage.

  I found myself looking into the stands more than once. To the seats Sophie and her dad sat in. I had a hell of game that day, and we won. Maybe she’s our good luck charm, and I need her back here for another game to confirm that possibility.

  After our post-game meeting and the coach telling us everything we did wrong, which we all know, I grab my bag and head to my truck. Before I pull out of the parking lot, I check my phone.