by McKayla Box
I frown at him. “Come on. When have you ever known me to let a girl get in the way of what we’re trying to do here?”
“Never,” he answers. “But I’ve never seen you stare at a girl’s ass like that before, either.”
“I’ve stared at plenty of asses.”
“Not like that you haven’t.”
“Whatever.” I lean back in my chair. “She’s smarter than I thought.”
He shrugs. “Okay.”
“And she knows the game.”
“Okay.”
I frown. “Stop doing that.”
“Doing what?”
“Acting like you’re listening to me,” I tell him.
“I am listening to you,” he says. “What I’m hearing is that you like her and that she knows the game and that you want to fuck her.”
I laugh and shake my head. “Whatever, man.”
We sit there for a few minutes and I’m watching the other guys have a good time. Drinking, telling jokes, hitting on girls at the bar. I know I’ll miss this after I’m gone and I wonder what it’s like in the majors.
The door to the bar swings open and another group of guys walk in.
“Aw, fuck,” I say.”
“What?” Beck asks.
I nod toward the door and he turns to look.
“Jesus,” he says. “The fuck are those assholes doing here?”
Those assholes are about eight guys from Clearwater College, a school about a half hour away and by far our biggest rivals. We open with them on Saturday. We aren’t like gangs who guard their turf, but there’s no reason for them to be here and it irritates me.
They stand there near the entrance for a second, then head toward the bar, looking around. They knew we were here. I assume they want to start some shit.
“No distractions,” Beck warns. “Anything goes down, you stay out of it.”
“Fuck that. If I—”
“Stay. Out. Of. It,” he says, staring at me. “The last thing we need is you tearing up your arm punching some Clearwater punk in the face. Sit it out, Houston. I mean it.”
I make a face, but don’t say anything.
Lila is making her way back toward us, but one of the Clearwater guys steps in front of her.
Clay Dickson.
Of course.
The biggest asshole on their team. Also maybe their best player. But definitely the biggest asshole.
He’s standing in front of her, his hand on his arm, smiling at her.
I lean forward.
“Easy,” Beck says, seeing them. “Give it a minute.”
I narrow my gaze. “I’ll give it about three seconds. Then I’m gonna rip his fucking head off.”
Chapter 14
LILA
The bathroom isn’t nearly as disgusting as I thought it might be and I walk out without needing a tetanus shot.
And right into a bunch of guys I don’t recognize immediately.
The biggest one, a guy with wavy blonde hair, brown eyes, and sun-kissed skin, smiles at me with blindingly white teeth. “I guess we picked the right night to slum it.”
He looks vaguely familiar but I can’t place him. “Excuse me.”
“No, excuse me,” he says, but not bothering to move. “I haven’t introduced myself and you absolutely are gonna wanna know me.” His hand touches my elbow. “I’m Clay.”
Clay.
That rings the right bell.
“Clay Dickson,” I say. “Third base. You play for Clearwater.”
His smile brightens a little more. “My reputation precedes me. That is correct.”
I know it’s correct. I’ve watched him play several dozen times. Big bat. Big arm. Definitely a guy who will get drafted. He’s not Houston, but he’s good.
“And you are?” he asks.
“Trying to get by you,” I tell him. “If you don’t mind.”
His hand stays on my elbow. “Well, now, that’s not fair. You know my name, but I don’t know yours.”
“No reason you should,” I tell him.
“Oh, I think that pretty face of yours is reason enough,” he says. “Come on. Just looking for a name.”
Houston is cocky and arrogant, but this clown just oozes slime. I feel dirty just standing next to him.
“Gertrude,” I tell him.
“Now that wasn’t so hard was it?” Clay says. “A pleasure to meet you, Gertrude.”
“Same,” I say, pulling my elbow out of his grasp. “Now if you’ll excuse me.”
“Let me buy you a drink.”
“I’m with…someone,” I tell him, thinking it’s the quickest way out of the conversation.
His mouth puckers like I’ve fed him a lemon. “No. You’re with some Baymont loser? You can do better, Gertrude.” He winks at me. “Far better. Let me get you a drink and I’ll show you.”
“I’m good,” I say. “And I go to Baymont, so I guess that makes me a loser, too.”
“I’m just joking with you,” he says, touching my elbow again. “You know how it is. We just like to give each other a hard time. We’re all…buddies.”
They are not, in fact, all buddies. They hate one another. Which makes me wonder…
“Why are you here?” I ask. “You know this is a Baymont bar?”
“We were just in the neighborhood,” he says, grinning. “Just wanted to wish your boys good luck before we crush their hopes and dreams on Saturday.”
“Your bullpen has some holes and the last I knew, you were still trying to find someone to play second,” I say. “Not sure how much crushing you’ll be doing.”
His smile flickers. “You know your baseball, Gertrude. But I think you might be a little misinformed. We’re doing just fine.” He gives my elbow a little squeeze. “But I’d love to take you back to my place and talk a little more with you about the season. Or…do other things.”
It’s all I can do not to vomit on his shoes. I’m about to tell him there is quite literally no single thing I’ll ever do with him when I catch movement out of the corner of my eye.
Houston is striding toward us.
He’s staring at me and he doesn’t look happy.
He looks like he’s about to decapitate Clay Dickson, which is not something I’d mind, except I know it’ll get Houston either in trouble or hurt.
Or both.
He closes the distance between us fast and just as I’m about to tell him to chill out, he shocks me.
By leaning down and kissing me.
I’m frozen, his lips on mine.
He tastes like lemon and mint.
And holy shit can he kiss.
His lips are soft, but firm. Warm.
My knees are ready to buckle.
What the fuck?
Chapter 15
HOUSTON
Even when she’s not expecting it, Lila Oakley can kiss.
And I’m not entirely sure why I kiss her, other than it’s pissing me off that Dickson is talking to her and it seems like a good way to avoid a fight, which is what I promised Beck I’d do when I got up from the table.
I finally pull away from her. Her eyes are wide. She’s surprised, but she doesn’t take a swing at me.
I guess that’s a good thing.
“The fuck?” Dickson mutters.
“Hey, babe,” I say to Lila. “Saw this asshole sliding up on you and thought I’d save him the trouble of embarrassing himself.” I make a point of looking Dickson up and down. “Looks like you and your boys got lost tonight.”
“Wanted to see how losers party,” Dickson says. “And it’s about what I expected.”
“Get your drinks and get out of here,” I say. “Nothing’s happening here tonight. Not with my team and not with my girl.” I put my hand behind Lila and find the small of her back. “Come on.”
Dickson tries to mean mug me, but I don’t look at him long enough for it to take hold. I’ve still got my hand on Lila’s back and she hasn’t swatted it away.
I can still taste
her lips. Strawberry.
I fucking love strawberries.
“What was that?” she whispers when we’re out of earshot.
“What was what?”
“Seriously?”
I laugh. “Was just getting you out from under that prick.”
We reach the table and Beck stands. “Gonna go make sure everyone knows to keep their cool.” He heads toward the bar.
“I…you…” Lila stammers. “You kissed me.”
“I did. Dickson’s not a good guy and I’m not saying that just because he plays for Clearwater. I’ve heard things. And I saw him touch you.” I stare at her for a second. “That didn’t feel right to me.”
She glances over her shoulder. Dickson is at the bar now, shoulder to shoulder with a couple of his boys. She turns back to me. “But…you kissed me.”
I raise an eyebrow. “That a problem? Just trying to keep him away from you.”
“It’s not a…problem,” she says, her cheeks fully pink now. “I just…I just wasn’t expecting it.”
“I think I rattled your cage,” I say.
“You didn’t rattle my anything,” she says. “You just…kissed me.”
“Yeah, you said that already.” I lean toward her. “I think you kinda liked it.”
“I did,” she says, then shakes her head. “I did not, I mean.”
“Too late. We’ll take your first answer.”
“I didn’t like that you kissed me,” she says. “Why the hell did you do that?”
I lean back. “I already explained why. Because Dickson was doing his thing with you and you were going to be trapped with him for the next half hour.”
“I could’ve freed myself,” she says. “I’m not helpless.”
“I was just…speeding up the process.”
She starts to say something, then stops.
She’s one-hundred percent rattled. And I love that I rattled her. She’s had an answer for seemingly everything up until now. She’s got nothing now, though.
She clears her throat. “Let’s start over. First. Thank you for getting rid of him. He seems worse than I’ve heard.”
“Then you haven’t heard all of it,” I say. “And you’re welcome.”
“But there are two things we should get straight here.”
“Just two?”
“One, I can handle myself,” she says, ignoring my comment. “I don’t need your help or anyone else’s. Believe it or not, I’ve had jackasses hit on me in bars before. I did not go home with them. So I can take care of my own problems.”
I don’t say anything.
“And, two,” she says, then pauses. “We need to keep this professional between us.”
“Even though neither of us is a professional?” I ask, laughing.
“You know what I mean,” she says. “I’m covering you for a story. There can’t be anything going on between us.
“There isn’t anything going on between us,” I tell her.
“And it has to stay that way,” she says. “You can’t just kiss me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like…like you did.”
I lean in close to her again. “I definitely think I rattled you. Should we try it again so you can show me I’m wrong?”
She stares at me for a long moment. “No. Don’t kiss me again.”
“So you’re telling me you didn’t feel anything?” I ask. “I thought you might fall right to the ground. And, shit, Oakley. That was just a kiss. Imagine what else I’m capable of.”
“I have no interest in what else you’re capable of,” she says. “And I didn’t feel anything.”
I know she’s lying, but it pisses me off that she is. If I felt something, I know she felt something. But if that’s how she wants to play it?
Cool.
“Relax, Oakley,” I say, leaning back into the chair. “I’m just messing with you.”
“Messing with me?”
“You wanna go hang out with Dickson? Be my guest. But I was just screwing around. There’s nothing going on here ,and there won’t be anything going on here.” I shake my head. “That kiss was nothing but me messing with you.”
She stares at me for a long time. “You were just messing with me.”
“Yep. Why? You think it was something else?”
“No,” she answers, but it’s a bit too fast.
“Then we’re on the same page, sweetheart,” I say, grabbing my glass of water. “I’ll keep being me and you keep being you.” I smile at her. “And we’ll be all good.”
Chapter 16
LILA
“He kissed me.”
Shea and I are leaving our writing class and walking across campus. It’s Tuesday morning and I need to get to the paper to do some work, but my head is still spinning from what happened at The Fair Pole.
“I’m sorry. What?” she says, stopping.
“Houston. He kissed me.”
“And I’m just find this out now?” Her eyes widen. “The fuck, Lila?”
I link my arm with hers so we can keep walking. “Listen to me. It was at the bar last night. You were asleep when I got back.”
“Yeah. That’s the kind of shit you’re supposed to wake me up for.”
I laugh. “I…I was a little out of sorts. And I was still thinking about it this morning and I didn’t want to have a conversation on our way to class because then class would’ve just interrupted us.”
“We could’ve fucking cut class! I don’t know if you know this, but no one gives a shit if we’re there,” she says. “Jesus. What happened?”
I tell her about Clay Dickson and Houston coming over and kissing me and then our conversation afterward.
“And you didn’t feel anything?” she asks. “It was just like getting kissed by your brother or something?”
“Not exactly. I don’t have a brother.”
She elbows me in the ribs.
I stop and look around to make sure no one’s near us.
“My knees buckled,” I whisper. “I swear to god, they went weak.”
“I knew it!” she says. “I knew he’d be a good kisser. And I’ll bet he can fuck like a stallion!”
“Stop!” I say. “And keep your voice down. I don’t want anyone hearing this.”
“Yes,” she says, frowning. “How terrible it must be to be kissed by the most gorgeous guy on this campus who also happens to be a baseball star and future gazillionaire. Poor you.”
We start walking again.
“He just walked over and…kissed me,” I tell her again. “Just really, really kissed me. And then he said it was to get Clay Dickson off of me. I could barely think.”
“Were you wet?”
“Jesus, Shea,” I say, laughing. “Listen to me. We got back to the table and I told him nothing could happen and he was like why would anything happen and I was like well it’s not gonna and he was like fine and I said fine and that was pretty much it.”
“That was it?”
“That was it,” I say. “I’m covering him for a story. I can’t do anything with him.”
“I could do a lot of things with him,” she murmurs, licking her lips. “I could do a lot of things to him.”
“You know what I’m saying,” I tell her. “But…it was so strange.”
“Why?”
“Because he just walked over and did it,” I say. “We weren’t flirting or anything. I went to use the bathroom, this moron tried to put the moves on me, and the next thing I know…”
“Houston Cade has his tongue down your throat.”
“It wasn’t like that at all,” I say. “No tongue. Just…his lips.”
“Are you weak again? Because you look like you might pass out.”
I glare at her.
I’m fine.
But I wasn’t when he kissed me. I’ve never been kissed like that. Ever. He knew exactly what he was doing, and it was all I could do to keep from throwing my legs around him and doing him right there in the ba
r.
Maybe that’s an exaggeration.
But I lied to him.
I definitely felt something.
I’m just not sure what it is.
“So what are you going to do?” Shea asks.
We’re almost to the building that houses the newspaper office. A group of girls walks by, chatting about some sorority event coming up, and I wait until the y pass before I answer.
“What do you mean, what am I going to do? I’m going to write the story I need to write. And I’m not kissing him again. Or letting him kiss me.”
Shea smirks. “So maybe just a hand job then?”
I stop walking long enough to smack her on the arm, then keep going.
“I assume he has a massive cock,” she says, picking up her pace so she’s back walking alongside me. “He has big hands. It just makes sense. I think you should find out.”
“I’m not doing anything with him, Shea,” I tell her. “I’m only around him because of the story. And most of the time, he’s a jackass anyway. And he told me he was just messing with me anyway.”
“Yeah, but that was after you told him nothing could happen, right?”
I pause. “Well. Yeah.”
Her eyebrows bounce. “So maybe he was just trying to save face. Be Mister Cool and act like he’s not interested. Think about it. There are like ten thousand different ways he could’ve gotten you away from Clay Whoeverthefuckheis. But he chose to kiss you.”
I’d actually been thinking about that all night long.
“It doesn’t matter,” I tell her. “I’m covering her for a story. Nothing can happen.”
“If you say so.” She eyes me. “You were totally wet, weren’t you?”
I smile at her. “I’ll never tell.”
Chapter 17
HOUSTON
“Don’t you have a class right now?” I ask.
Beck and I are in the weight room, working through our last circuit.
He makes a face. “Dude, I’m avoiding my math class right now. I’m failing and sitting in that room just makes me feel stupid because I don’t understand a word the professor is saying.”