Heat spreads through my body, sending beads of sweat rolling down my bare chest.
I groan, my slick palms gliding along satin as my muscles clench, releasing a moment later.
Licking my lips, I twist my torso, and it takes mad effort to peel my eyes open, all for them to snap closed in the same second, the beat of the sun too damn bright above me.
Where the fuck?
I bend my neck to look behind me, spotting a sliding door I don’t recognize, and when I look down, I realize I’m on a lounger I’ve never seen, a sheet thrown over the top of it.
My temples throb, beating like an amateur drummer, too hard, too loud, and with no real rhyme or rhythm. It takes everything in me to throw my legs over the side, pushing up into a sitting position.
My forearms fall to my thighs in an effort to hold me up, and then the squeak of a door sounds behind me.
I keep my head down, not wanting to know whoever the hell is behind me, but then a Vitamin Water is held out in front of me, a familiar watch tied around that person’s wrist.
My chin drops in relief. “Fuck, Coach.” I squint up at him, wincing as I do.
He blows a long breath out of his nose. “Drink this, take these, and hit the sauna. You’ve got a couple hours to sweat this shit out and then it’s game time.”
Nodding, I look to the giant ass horse pills, and push to my feet.
“What the fuck happened last night? How’d I get here?” I look around, rolling my shoulder a few times to ease some of the tension from yesterday’s game. “Where the fuck is here?”
“This is my suite; it comes with a deck view.” He chuckles, a small shrug following. “And you got here like you always do, son. You called me after you had your fun. I sent an Uber after you and had them drop you here.”
My frown falls to the grass. Not a single image from last night popping into my mind.
“Last I remember we went to the bar to meet those A’s scouts you said were coming to talk to me on the DL, but I don’t remember them showing up.”
“You’re lucky I was able to get a hold of them to let them know you retired to your hotel room.” He lifts a brow.
I nod, and then every muscle in my body locks.
My hotel room.
My motherfucking hotel room.
My girl.
My girl, who has no clue she’s my girl …
Oh fuck.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Last night I didn’t … fuck me, did I?
Setting the water and pills down, I run my hands over my hair, scrubbing them down my face. I dart past Coach, rushing around in search of my shirt and shoes, both folded neatly on the armchair inside.
Tossing some pillows, I hunt for my phone, but it doesn’t show up. “You see my phone?”
“No, maybe you left it somewhere last night?” Coach Reid watches me from the patio.
“Fuck!” I hiss.
“You need to hit the sauna,” he says again.
“I’ll be good, Coach.” I dash for the door, tearing it open.
“Tobias, wait!” Coach Reid shouts behind me, but I’m already gone.
And when I get back to my room, Meyer is stepping from hers.
There’s a chair propping her door open, and she has Bailey’s car seat in one hand, diaper bag in the other.
She’s leaving?
I skid to a stop, her eyes popping up to mine the second my feet are planted.
She gasps, her lips parting. “Tobias.”
I wince.
The way she whispers my name, as if her body aches but her mind has reached acceptance, makes my throat burn.
“Hey.” I approach her, and when she shifts, subconsciously twisting until Bailey is shielded from my view, my hand darts out, seeking the stability of the wall beside me.
As I grow closer, I find her eyes rimmed with red, cheeks stained nearly the same exact color.
She’s been crying and the realization knocks the air from my lungs, but at the same time, something settles within me, allowing another full breath to take the last’s place.
She thinks I fucked up, and that means, in her perfect little mind, there’s something to be fucked up. On the other, for her to assume what her gorgeous eyes are telling me makes my stomach ache, but why wouldn’t she?
It’s what the school paper loves to focus on, my shit off the field. It doesn’t matter if you read it or not, it’s damn near impossible not to prejudge off of the quick glimpses you can’t get away from. They plaster the things in the halls of every building and post on every social media site in existence. But that’s not the worse part. That’s understandable, something I can’t and haven’t been able to get away from.
What’s twisting my insides is the fact that she could possibly believe, even for a second, that she meant so little to me after the time we’ve spent together, but again, I can understand it. I hate it, but I understand it.
How could she possibly know to the full extent what she means to me, when I’ve yet to spell it out for her? She knows I want her, but she could easily, subconsciously, translate that back to the headlines she reads over time.
Tobias Cruz, The Playboy Pitcher strikes again …
No.
Not this time.
I dart forward, gently taking her face in my hand. She turns away, but I push closer, and she holds her breath as if the thought of breathing me in is too much.
“Meyer, look at me,” I rasp, my hand sinking into her hair. “Baby, please …”
She licks her lips, blinking hard, and when she finally meets my gaze with her own, an emptiness lurches in my chest.
Her eyes are desolate, and they serve as a punch to the gut.
We didn’t exactly make plans for last night, but in my head, we didn’t need to. We had plans and our plans consisted of us, together. End of fucking story.
I don’t know what happened last night, but I didn’t do anything I’d regret.
There’s no way.
I wouldn’t.
Not to her.
Not to them.
I don’t even care to look at another girl anymore, let alone touch one, and it’s been that way for weeks now, long before her smile shifted.
It has shifted.
We have shifted.
My head begins to shake. “Listen—”
“I didn’t mean to assume anything and you don’t owe me an explanation.” Meyer’s tone is pleading, as if she’s begging me not to speak. “We’re—”
“Say friends, I dare you.”
Her eyes squeeze shut, a single teardrop sneaks its way out as she does, and serves as a rope around my neck, cutting off my supply of oxygen and leaving my lungs starved.
Her nostrils flare and she straightens her spine. That’s when she opens her eyes.
If they weren’t clouded, the void expression within them might just kill me on the spot, but the moisture lets me know I’m in there. You have to care about someone for them to have the ability to hurt you.
“I’m a mother.” She nods. “I’m a mother and I’ve been irresponsible.”
“No.”
“Coming here was a bad idea, I knew that. It was reckless and …”
“Don’t say it.”
“I should have never been assigned to you.” She swallows, resolve slipping over her and making my fingers numb. “I shouldn’t be here, and I really shouldn’t have brought my little girl. I made a mistake.” She swallows, the honesty in her tone just about burning my skin from my bones. “I knew the life you lived and I never should—”
Her words halt on her lips when the door she’s standing in front of opens, the door that leads into my hotel room.
Both our heads snap that way, watching as Neo backs out, a chick latched on to his body.
His foot bumps the diaper bag and he jerks to a stop, both their gazes slicing our way.
“Well, good morning.” Neo chuckles and the chick’s face, who I now realize is the reporter from yesterday’s game, turns pink. The girl slowly lowers her feet to the floor, glancing between the three of us, and Neo smirks, tossing something into the air.
My hand flies up on instinct, catching it in my palm.
It’s the spare key card to my hotel room, the one our team coordinator handed me when he passed them out to the team after yesterday’s game. His way of covering his own ass should someone see him skip over me and wonder why.
I glare and Neo’s smirk deepens.
“Hey, you passed out at the grill. It took three of us to get your ass into the car and out into Coach’s room last night. I loaned you a shoulder and you happily loaned me your room so I didn’t have to keep X up all night in mine.”
I fucking knew it.
My pulse quickens, my eyes snapping back to Meyer, but hers are frozen on my room door.
Neo grabs the girl by her hand and rushes down the hall, throwing a salute as he rounds the corner. “Hi, Meyer!”
But Meyer doesn’t say a word, she’s stuck, unmoving with the same open mouth expression she had on moments ago, her words lodged in her throat.
Slowly, she blinks, her shoulders falling as her muscles begin to give, and the base of Bailey’s car seat gently meets the floor.
Her eyes come back to mine, a sorrow building within them.
She shakes her head, at a loss for what to say. “Tobias, I—”
I jerk forward, take her neck in my palm, and smash my lips into hers.
Meyer’s muscles lock up, but only for a moment, and then every bit of her melts against me. She kisses me back.
It’s deep and distressed, as is the long, choppy inhale that follows, but when I push my tongue inside, she opens up for me, loosens up for me.
It’s like I can finally fucking breathe, her air providing whatever it is mine’s been missing.
She pushes up on her toes to get more of me, her arms wrapping around my neck in an attempt to get closer, so I help my baby out. I glide my palms from her ribs to her back, and when I tug her flush to me, she gasps.
I fumble with the diaper bag at her feet, not taking my mouth off hers as I toss it through her open door, and I bring my right hand to her back again, using caution as I grab Bailey’s car seat with my left. I lead us into Meyer’s room.
Nudging the chair out of the way, I set Bailey down, making sure the sleeping princess is facing away, and then drive my fingers into Meyer’s hair. I bend, lifting her legs up and set her on top of the small desk, and yank her to the edge so her hips are aligned with mine. My dick’s so hard it throbs, and I attempt to ease the pain by pressing it against what I know is a sweet, soft center.
A whimper tears from her throat and I’m ready to shred her shirt from her body, to reveal the skin I’ve fantasized about more times than I care to count.
“Fuck,” I pant, and her husky chuckle draws me right back.
I take her mouth again, biting at her lower lip, demanding my tongue’s entrance once more, and goddamn I could come just by fucking kissing her.
She’s silky and smooth and tastes like mine.
She is mine.
“Let me taste your skin, Tutor Girl.” I lean in and one of her palms slaps onto the wood beneath her, her head falling back with compliance, and when my heated breath fans along the underside of her jaw, a sharp gasp pushes past her lips.
A gasp that turns into a moan when my mouth falls to her neck, but I don’t kiss her right away.
I push the tip of my tongue out, flicking it against her. “You gonna shake for me, baby?”
Her thighs twitch and I know I’ve found my first sweet spot, a spot I’ll torture her with when she’s shaking and desperate and needy. For me. For more. For fucking all.
I kiss her there again and her back arches, pushing her chest into mine.
My dick throbs in my jeans. I’m a fucking rod, so solid I’m in literal fucking pain. I wince, seeking out the arc of her pussy, and she knows what I need. She shifts her hips, pushing as close as she can and rubbing along my hard cock.
Her legs come up then, wrapping around me in search of more.
Fuck me, I need more.
I swoop her up, spin and drop us onto the bed, my palm gliding down to her ass and pushing her into me.
“This ass,” I groan, my left hand gliding up to tap at the edge of her ass cheek. “I’ve fucking dreamed about it, fucked myself fantasizing about it.” I bite at her lips and her eyes practically roll back in her head.
“Mine,” I whisper, forcing my tongue into her mouth and rolling into her, my muscles clenching.
All fucking mine.
Both of them.
My muscles freeze and I push up on one hand, darting my eyes toward the door, toward the little gray car seat, pink flowers dusting the top, a frilly white lace trimming the edges.
Slowly, I ease into a sitting position, Meyer’s pants loud and heavy at my side.
I push to my feet and make my way over to her and when I peek over the edge, Bailey’s blue eyes come up to mine.
And baby girl smiles, her little hands slapping at her sides in excitement, and when they come back up, she’s got a baseball in her hand, the toy one I bought for her a while ago.
My eyes go back to her mama, who sits up in the bed, lips swollen from my kiss and curved to one side.
Meyer gave her the little toy I bought her daughter, even when she was angry with me, because really, she wasn’t mad at me, she was mad at herself for daring to hope we were more than what she felt last night when sounds of another woman came from my room.
She said so herself, she didn’t mean to hope, and I understand what she was trying to say now.
Carefully unbuckling Bailey’s seat, I lift her into my arms and make my way back to Meyer.
Her eyes remain locked with mine as I lower the two of us onto the bed, gently setting Bailey in the middle of us. She instantly rolls over, pushing up on her hands and drooling all over the pillow, a high-pitched squeal following.
Meyer and I both laugh and look to each other once more.
Sorrow shines in her deep brown eyes, but I shake my head.
“You were right to assume,” I tell her, taking her face in my palm. “Because we aren’t just student and tutor, haven’t been for a long ass time as far as I’m concerned.”
She nibbles at the inside of her lip, eyes on me.
“I don’t know how the fuck last night turned into what it did, but it never should have happened. I wanted to get back here, and I was the first out the door, but then this thing with scouts popped up and … I should have called you. I should have left when an hour went by and they never showed, but it didn’t and that won’t happen again.”
“I don’t expect you to—”
“Expect it,” I cut her off. “Whatever it is, expect it, want it, demand it even. There’s only one other person in this fucking world I allow to get in my head, but baby, you didn’t ask permission.” My lips curl into a smile. “Girl, you didn’t even want the spot, the way I remember it, but you stole it regardless.”
Her chuckle is soft and while her chin lowers, those eyes of hers stay on mine.
“Even if you didn’t, I’d have given it to you.” My eyes move between hers. “Let me be someone that matters to you, ‘cause, you matter to me, Tutor Girl. Both of you do.”
“You do matter, Tobias,” she whispers. “And that’s one of the hardest parts of this.”
Something warm spreads through my chest and I can’t fight the smirk that takes over.
“I put a ticket in your name yesterday for today’s game. Come. Watch me pitch.” I run my thumb along her jaw, my pulse punching against my ribs when she leans into my touch. “Be the reason I win today.”
Something flashes in her eyes, but she blinks it away, a light nod following. “Okay.”
My brows jump, my smile fucking wide. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“You’ll be there?”
“I said yes.” She laughs. “That means I’m coming.”
I groan, hop up and over the bed until I’m on my knees on the ground at her opposite side. I tug her toward me, take her lips again and nip at her when she playfully denies my tongue entrance. Tearing away, I grip my cock with my fist and raise a dark brow. “Next time you say I’m coming … you will be, so careful with your choice of words, Tutor Girl, or don’t be if you’re ready to jump right to it.”
I stand, and her attention snaps from where I’m fisting myself to my eyes, following me as I take backward steps away from her, my eyes clenched tight.
“What are you doing?”
“Replaying the taste of you, so when I step into that shower right now, I can get there quick.”
“Tobias!” She chuckles, but I’m not playing.
I climb into her shower with one thing on my mind.
Her naked and under me.
Works like a fucking charm.
