The Ninth Inning Page 15

  “It’s because of everything you’ve been through that you should give him a shot,” Lauren had said that night. And when I questioned her on what she meant, she finished with, “You two deserve a real chance. He’s never given you one before, and he’s begging for it now. You would have always wondered what if and what could have been if you didn’t get this opportunity. He would have haunted you until you were old and unhappily married one day, thinking back to the hot baseball player you should have ended up with instead of the guy by your side.”

  I’d laughed at her, but I remembered feeling a distinct ping of truth ricochet off my insides. Her words had struck a chord somewhere deep in me that I forced myself not to overanalyze because it was no longer relevant. I was his, and he was mine.

  Being Cole’s girlfriend was fun. I loved it. I hated that it had taken so long for us to get together, but all that drama felt like it was in the distant past even though it wasn’t. We were in such a different place emotionally that it was hard to believe all we’d gone through to get here.

  I savored it.

  Adored it.

  Loved the way it felt to be his and for him to be mine.

  Things with Cole were effortless and, dare I say, almost easy. Being together was like snapping two puzzle pieces into place. We fit naturally. I’d had no idea that it could, or would, be this good. He was attentive and thoughtful. He was always texting and calling, and he FaceTimed me every night before bed. Baseball kept him busy, and I understood, making sure to never give him any crap for it. To be fair, I was busy with classes and my side work with The Long Ones and the new restaurant as well.

  My mind thought about him as I stepped outside of class and ran straight into a set of rock-hard abs. Cole was standing there, waiting for me, a smirk on his gorgeous face, his baseball hat pulled down low.

  “Hey, beautiful,” he said as he reached for me, and I heard harsh whispering mixed with sweet coos from whoever was watching us as we kissed.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked him even though it was a happy surprise.

  Our paths on campus didn’t usually overlap, so we had to make plans to see each other during the days when we could. Right now, outside my class, wasn’t planned.

  “My class was canceled, so I thought we could go grab lunch before I headed over to the field,” he suggested, and as if on cue, my stomach growled loud enough for him to hear. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

  Sometimes, it was hard to reconcile the guy whose hand I was currently holding with the one who had busted my heart open on more than one occasion, bringing me to tears. Cole had worried so much about the kind of boyfriend he would be to me, worried that he wouldn’t do it right or that he’d disappoint me somehow. But he was so exceptional at it that it was hard to imagine how he hadn’t been raised with three sisters or at least a mom who had been present in his life.

  “Yes. Feed me,” I agreed with a smile as I dropped a pair of sunglasses over my eyes and started walking across campus, his hand in mine.

  I wasn’t oblivious to the stares, but I didn’t give them any extra attention. It seemed almost unbelievable that on a massive college campus, word could spread quickly about someone, but it did. And had it not happened to Cole and me, I probably wouldn’t have believed it or thought the stories were exaggerated somehow. It had only been a little over a week since we went to brunch, but everyone seemed to know that we were officially together. And every one of those people had an opinion about it.

  “Hey, Cole,” some girl I didn’t recognize said as she flashed him a smile and fluffed her hair.

  I was literally standing right next to him, but she couldn’t have cared less. Cole ignored her.

  “Aren’t you going to say hi?” I asked in a snotty tone.

  “Wasn’t planning on it,” he fired back as we continued moving toward the campus commissary.

  “Rude,” I teased, and he stopped walking, causing my arm to jerk backward when I continued moving.

  “Do you want me to go back?” He thumbed toward the Hair-Fluffer, and I stuck out my tongue at him and called him a brat. He laughed. “Didn’t think so.”

  I was hit with a sudden thought, and instead of keeping it to myself, I blurted it out, “Do girls hit on your more or less now that they know about us?”

  He glanced at me and gave me that famous panty-dropping smile. “Do you want the truth?”

  “Always.”

  “More,” he said, sounding bored.

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. I don’t know why you girls do that kind of shit.”

  “Uh, I don’t do that kind of shit,” I said slowly, throwing his words back at him as he gave me an obvious glare.

  “I didn’t mean you but your gender.”

  I thought about it for a second before realizing that guys had been talking to me far more this week than they ever had before. They hadn’t necessarily been hitting on me, but they had been chattier.

  “What?”

  “I was just thinking about your gender and how they talk to me more now that we’re together.”

  His grip on my hand tightened, and I wondered if he even knew he was doing it. “Talk how? Like, ask you out?”

  I couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped. “Not so fun when the shoe’s on the other foot, is it?” I teased, and he stopped walking again even though we were almost at the doors.

  “Christina,” he practically growled.

  “Cole,” I growled back.

  “Are they asking you out? Hitting on you when they know you’re with me?” He was being serious, and he was actually getting upset.

  “No.” I leaned up on my tiptoes and kissed his nose. “They’re just friendlier. Talk to me more. They aren’t even flirting, I don’t think. I think they just want to be my friend now that they know I’m yours.”

  “We’re not friends,” he bit back as he messed with his hat.

  “We most certainly are.”

  “I meant,” he stumbled, and it was downright adorable to see this cocky, arrogant guy searching for the right words, “we’re more than friends.”

  “I know that. And they all do too. Promise,” I reassured him because I didn’t want him worrying over nothing.

  “You’ll tell me if anyone’s inappropriate with you, right?” he asked.

  “Um”—I looked around, my eyes hidden by my shades—“I guess? I don’t know. I think I can handle guys talking to me.”

  I could tell he didn’t like that answer. His weight shifted, and he pulled his hat clean off his head to run his fingers through his hair. It was something he did whenever he was frustrated.

  “It’s not like I expect you to tell me about every girl who hits on you.”

  “I will. You want me to?”

  “No, I don’t actually,” I said, stunning even myself with that answer. I couldn’t give all the other girls that much control or presence in our relationship; otherwise, they would affect it in a negative way.

  “Okay.” He put his hat back on. “Well, if anyone gets out of line or makes you uncomfortable, promise you’ll let me know.” It was his version of offering up a compromise.

  “I promise.”

  He wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me tight against him as we started walking again, our steps in time with one another. “I’m not trying to be possessive and crazy, I swear. I just won’t always be here, and I don’t want guys thinking they can do things to you when I’m not around,” he overly explained.

  Then, understanding dawned on me.

  The team had a road series coming up, and it would be the first time that we’d be apart since officially getting together. Cole was worried. He’d never been in this situation before—leaving a girl at home while he was away for days on end.

  “I get it. It’s the same for me. I don’t want girls thinking they have a chance with you. Especially girls in another state,” I said before my stomach twisted—and not because I was hungry.

  I’d done my
best in the past to not think about what life was like for Cole and his teammates whenever they traveled. But now that he was my boyfriend, I was finding it harder to ignore the fact that the baseball team was a hot commodity—and that didn’t only hold true within state lines.

  “You okay?” he said as we reached the double glass doors. He pulled one wide open and allowed me to step through first as the sounds of people rushing, trays slamming, and orders being shouted out surrounded me.

  “I’m good.” I offered him a small smile, not wanting to get into it in the middle of the commissary where prying ears could overhear. And trust me, they were prying.

  Cole reached for my hand. “Does the word salsa do anything for you?”

  “Do I look like the kind of girl who would ever turn down a chance to eat Mexican?” I asked, not knowing what the hell that was supposed to even mean, but he laughed anyway and pulled us toward the small Mexican café.

  We reached the line and stood there, preoccupied with each other as we waited for our chance to order. He reached for my chin and tipped it up, pressing a long kiss on my lips, and I almost forgot how to stand or where we were. Kissing Cole was as all-consuming.

  In the past, I’d never known when I’d be able to do it again. Our kisses always felt desperate somehow, like my lips might fall off if I stopped. They were something that could be taken away at any moment, so the intimacy we shared had always felt temporary. And it had been.

  These kisses were something entirely new. They lacked the frenzied rush. They were meant to be savored and appreciated. Our mouths moved in softer motions, at a slower pace, and were filled with more intimacy than should be allowed on a college campus.

  “Ahem,” someone cleared their throat, and the sounds of cheering and whooping filled the air.

  My face burned as I saw a table of his teammates fist-pumping the air.

  “Oh my God. Cole.” I swatted his arm.

  “Why are you mad at me?” He threw a fist in the air back, and they cheered more.

  “You can’t kiss me like that in public,” I complained as I steadied myself.

  “You can kiss me like that in public,” a voice said.

  I turned on my heel to face the female in line behind us, the nerve of her boldness fueling mine.

  “What did you just say?” I tried to take a step toward her but was stopped by a pair of strong arms holding me back before he reached for my hand and held it tight.

  “What? I think there’s enough of him to go around. You shouldn’t really keep a guy like that all to yourself.” She pursed her lips like she had made the most brilliant point in the history of making points.

  “Do you see this? Are you blind?” He shoved our linked hands in front of her face.

  “I see it. So what? It’s just her,” the girl said with a wave, discarding me as if I were a piece of gum on the bottom of her shoe, something she needed to clean off and get rid of.

  “Have you ever seen me holding a girl’s hand in public before?” Cole sounded a little too aggressive, but the girl didn’t seem to back down or notice.

  “No.”

  “Have you ever seen me kiss a girl in the commissary before?”

  She kept her eyes firmly locked on Cole’s. “No.”

  “Then, get it through your thick skull. This is my girlfriend.”

  “She’s always been your girlfriend,” the chick said.

  I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Not only did she not care that I was standing right there, but she also thought I was his girlfriend, and she was still hitting on him?

  “No, she hasn’t been. But she is now. So, leave me the hell alone,” he snapped before looking at me, all anger gone. “It’s our turn.”

  I almost told him that I’d lost my appetite, but that wasn’t true. Seeing Cole like that made me even more ravenous but not just for food. I was so turned on after that public display.

  “Oh, you are so getting lucky for that later,” I said under my breath, but his eyes lit up, so I knew he’d heard me.

  “How lucky?” he asked, and with the look on his face, you would think I’d just told him he’d won a million dollars.

  I gave him a wink before turning to place my order.

  Getting Lucky

  Cole

  The second Christina had mentioned getting lucky, my dick got hard. Even though we were in the commissary, surrounded by hundreds of students in broad daylight, my dick still had a mind of its own. It wanted her, and it apparently didn’t care who knew.

  “Christina,” I said as I carried our tray of food toward a table where Chance and Mac sat by themselves. The rest of the guys had already cleared out.

  She looked at me, drinks in hand. “Yeah?”

  “You can’t say shit like that to me. Look what you did.” I gave a gesture downward, and she looked at my pants and froze mid-step, her jaw slacked, open wide.

  “I ...” she stuttered, but I kept walking, needing to sit down and hide my bulge from prying eyes. Placing the tray on the table, I pulled out two chairs before I sat.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered toward me once she was seated and scooted closer to me.

  “It’s okay,” I said before reaching for the bottom of her jaw and closing it. “It’s not like you haven’t seen it before,” I teased, and she blushed, her cheeks turning an adorable shade of pink.

  “Hey,” Chance said with a nod before he took a hearty bite out of a sandwich that looked to be about ten layers tall.

  “You two can’t ever do anything quietly, can you?” Mac asked, and my brain was suddenly back in the bedroom, thinking about all the sounds that I could get Christina to make. And how very not quiet we could be.

  “What?” Christina asked as she dipped a chip into some salsa before crunching on it.

  “Look around, sweetheart,” Mac said, and I shot him a look, which only made his grin grow bigger. “You two are always causing a damn scene.”

  I glanced around, not in the least bit surprised at the number of people watching us or looking back and forth between their tables and ours. “You’re one to talk, Mr. Can’t Keep His Tongue Out of Random Chicks’ Mouths at Every Party.”

  “Yeah, but I never cause a spectacle while I’m doing it,” he said.

  “Not our fault that we’re more interesting than you are,” I shot back, and his face fell for a second before he shrugged it off, basically agreeing.

  “Was that chick hitting on you in front of Christina?” Chance asked even though he already knew the answer.

  I nodded as Christina’s face formed a small snarl, and I leaned in to kiss the corner of her mouth.

  “It used to happen all the time to my dad, I guess, when he was here. My mom has told me some pretty fucked up stories. It amazes me how little college has changed since they were here and now.”

  “It’s not that college hasn’t changed,” Christina chimed in. “It’s that the people haven’t. The girls, I mean. The way they feel about the baseball team and how they all want to be a part of it in any way that they can. It’s been like that in one way or another since the dawn of time. It probably always will be.”

  She reached for her burrito and took a hefty bite, pieces spilling out all around her, but she couldn’t have cared less. I almost dropped to my knees and proposed right there. Any girl who ate like that and actually enjoyed it I wanted to share every meal with until I left this earth.

  When no one said anything in response, she looked up, almost unsure as she swallowed. “Don’t you guys agree?”

  “Sorry, I was too busy watching you eat to formulate thoughts that revolved outside of getting you naked,” I said.

  Mac laughed as she gave me a sweet look. I was being a total caveman, and she found it endearing.

  “I think you’re right. That basic kind of human nature, I guess, hasn’t really evolved,” Chance said.

  Mac cleared his throat. “Let’s be honest, and I’m not trying to be offensive.” He looked at Christina, and she
gave him a face that told him to continue. “Girls want to hook up with guys they think are going to be successful. Especially guys they think are going to be rich or famous. They want a part of that.”

  “You’re not wrong. They do,” Christina agreed. “Women are drawn to men they think are powerful.”

  “So, you think I’m powerful?” I asked, nudging her leg under the table with my own as I took a bite of my taco.

  “Who said I was drawn to you?” she fired back, and Mac and Chance both laughed, fueling her on.

  “You don’t have to play hard to get. I already got you, remember?”

  She playfully raised her eyebrows. “For now.”

  “Okay, I don’t like what’s happening. Let’s get back to girls being cleat-chasers and you loving me,” I said quickly, and she practically choked on the drink she had been taking.

  “Love,” she stuttered, and Mac and Chance both stood up at the same time.

  “That’s our cue,” Chance said before Mac looked at the nonexistent watch on his bare wrist.

  “Gotta go. See you at the field. Bye, Christina.”

  They disappeared in a fucking instant.

  “You scared them away.” I looked at her, pretending to be shocked.

  “You scared them away with all your love talk,” she mimicked, emphasizing that the blame was squarely on my shoulders.

  I shrugged. “Oh well. Not my fault if they can’t handle grown-up emotions.”

  Her face scrunched up like she wasn’t sure if I was fucking around with her or being serious. And even though I was no expert on love, I thought about her all the time. When I looked to the future, my future, I saw her by my side. Or maybe I was by hers? Was that love? It sure sounded like it to me.

  She dipped another chip into her salsa, watching me the whole time, before taking a bite and chewing it in slow motion. I grinned.

  “You think I’m up to something, but I’m not,” I said before she could say a word. And just like that, my mind was in the gutter again. I wanted to be all up in her something. Hell, I wanted to be all up in her everything. “I’m coming over tonight after practice. Unless you’re working?”