Hitting to Win (Over the Fence #2) (18 page)

Its perfect, this day. This gorgeous, sunny, almost-summer day, with all of my friends around me, celebrating my dream. And the best part? The wonderful, handsome, chiseled man standing by my side for it all.

So I said I didn't need the fairy tale, but if I wanted it, I'd say this was pretty darn close.

T
he smell of stale clothing
, sewer grates and cheap perfume fill my nostrils as I board the A train uptown. I sit down, seeing a mostly empty car, and set my bag in my lap, dirt coming off the bottom of it.

The subway stops once, twice, and then on the third stop, she gets in.

Her frame sheathed in light pink, all of that beautiful hair slicked back and piled on top of her head. I’m trapped, staring at her is like an addiction. Every day on this train, at the same time, I see her. And I can’t breathe.

Just like every morning, when I wake up with her in my arms, study her face, and thank my lucky stars that she chose me. That she believed in me.

Chloe glances around, finally spotting me sitting a few benches down. Her plump lips split into a beautiful, happy grin, and she waltzes towards me, her pointe shoes dangling from her hand, flip-flops on her damaged feet. She slides next to me, not touching me, but I can feel my flesh instantly heat up as the air between us crackles.

“So, do you live here, in the city?” I turn to her, studying her beautiful lines, the tiny hairs that dot her hairline.

“I do. I dance for a ballet company. Do you live here?”

“I do. I play for a minor league baseball team.”

“That’s cool. Are you…seeing anyone?”

“I am. This great girl. We actually live together.”

“Bummer. You’re really cute.” She dropped the act, leaning across the seat to fuse her lips to mine.

And just that little move filled me with so much bliss, such pure fucking unadulterated happiness. I missed her so much during the day that when we finally met on the subway to go home together each day, all I want to do was bury my face in her neck and inhale her, sit with her in my lap for hours on end.

“Mmm, hi baby. How was practice?” She runs her fingers through my curls, and I hold her earlobe while the train rumbles underground toward our apartment uptown.

“Good. Exhausting, but good. There is a rumor that the MLB team is going to be calling some people up in the next two weeks.” My stomach wigged out at the thought of that. Standing on a major league field, being a part of the real show.

Not that it hasn’t been an adjustment playing for the Manhattan Thunder Cats. Stepping onto that field was a bigger rush than anything I’d ever felt, aside from Chloe telling me she loved me. The noise of the crowd, the elite level of the players. I knew as soon as I stepped onto the third baseline that I didn’t belong anywhere else. Getting an even bigger dose of that? I was anxious but ready.

“Baby! That’s great. We’ll keep our fingers crossed. But, just know you’re in a great place now.”

She throws her arms around me, her pink pointe shoes bouncing off my shoulders. And man, does she bring those things everywhere these days.

After her three-month intensive, SAB loved Chloe so much that they offered her a minor position in the company. She’s working on climbing her way up, but it was an honor just to be accepted into their program. She was over the moon, though it took some persuading on my part to get her to stay. Leaving Grover and Minka and Kelsey was not easy, and she was hesitant to drop everything. But, luckily Tony and Isabella are the most supportive parents ever, and helped give her that last extra push.

We’d both left Grover, and hadn’t looked back. Well, except to visit for a week in August when everyone came back to party.

“So, are we getting Thai food or pizza tonight?” I ask her, and so un-Chloe-like, she rolls her eyes.

“You get Thai food, and I’ll eat bean sprouts.” She was always on a diet these days, especially now that she was in the SAB program.

“Fine, cutie. You want to go anywhere tonight?” It was Friday, the end of her week, and luckily I had the weekend off, a rare occasion but we liked to take full advantage. Plus, I already had something up my sleeve.

“Mm, whatever you think, sweetheart.” She nuzzles in, waiting for the two more stops it takes to get to our apartment.

“I love you.” I whisper in her ear, scratching her bare arm gently with the blunt tip of my finger. Goosebumps appear, and she grabs on tighter. My heart soars, all of the tension and pressure I was feeling when I boarded the subway sliding off my shoulders.

Metal screeches on metal, and the car rumbles to a stop, the doors sliding open and the announcer warning to stay clear of them when they close. We hurry off, hand in hand through the dirty tunnels of New York. We bound up the steps in fear of being trampled by the bustling, hustling traffic in front and behind us. While I love most things about this city, all of the busy people wasn’t one of them sometimes. I really was a down home, North Carolina boy at night.

Chloe, however, she thrived here. And because she thrived, so did I.

We broke the surface to the outside world, the warm, September air winding around us. The setting sun cast magnificent rays over all of the glass and brick buildings. With my hand still in Chloe’s, I led us up the street, making small talk about our next few weeks. We pass a row of nice brownstones and daydream about what we’ll do when we have one of our own.

Walking the couple of blocks to our place, we finally arrive at our brown brick building, not too shabby but not a palace either. With my signing bonus and the money her parents supply her every month, Chloe and I rent a little one bedroom.

We scale the steps of our walkup and unlock the six locks on our white front door. I push it open, ushering Chloe inside the bright living that she painted a sunny yellow last month when we moved in.

She sets her bag down on the bench we bought at Ikea, and I survey our place. White overstuffed couches, our tiny, but clean kitchen, the art prints Chloe found at a festival in Brooklyn. It might not be the Farriston estate, but it was our home. Mine and Chloe’s. I’d never felt more at ease in a space ever.

“I’m going to take a quick shower, babe. You want to join me?” She grabbed the door frame, swinging lightly back and forth. The smile ghosting her lips made me itch to be in there with her, no barriers between us. But I had a plan to stick to.

“I’m going to call in the food. Hurry up, princess.”

I hear the water start and pull my phone out. After two rings, he picks up. “You have everything set, man?”

I get the confirmation, and hang up to change. Pulling on a polo and khaki shorts, I slide my feet into boat shoes. Maybe it’s too preppy, but I’m a rich kid from North Carolina, shoot me.

The blow dryer begins to whir in the bathroom, and I glance around, pulling the red Cartier box out of my drawer and shoving it in my pocket. A few minutes later, Chloe walks in with her white fluffy towel wrapped around her, her hair dry and floating around her slim, tan shoulders.

She drops it, baring her beautiful, naked skin to me, and my dick jumps, hating that its trapped in my pants. Focus, boy, we have more important tasks.

“What should I wear?”

“Something casual. Maybe that red dress. I love that one.”

She dons the red sundress, the gauzy material floating around her thighs.

“Ready?”

We walk down and out onto the street again, passing people on their home from work, out to meet friends, running for their evening workout. This really is the city that never sleeps.

“Where are we going?” She gives me a curious look as we turn into Central Park. The sun has almost set, shading the sky the same purple as her gorgeous eyes.

I just smirk, taking her along with me, walking leisurely through the green oasis in the middle of the city. And then, it’s there. In the middle of the clearing, a sparkling, twinkling Ferris Wheel.

“Miles…” She gasps, her hand squeezing mine. “Wha…what is this?”

“Ours for the night. Come on.”

I nod at the operator, who I called before, and help Chloe up onto the seat, joining her and strapping us in. He starts the wheel, propelling us slowly up past the trees of the park, the buildings of New York City coming into view.

“What is all this?” I can hear the emotion clogging Chloe’s throat.

I took a deep breath as the car stopped at the top. My whole body was shaking on the inside. I hoped sweat wasn’t dripping from my brow. “Baby, I love you. And the last time we were on a ride like this, I didn’t appreciate just how special you are.”

I took both of Chloe’s hands in mine, staring into her deep indigo eyes. I could barely speak my heart was so heavy with love for her. “You deserve a do-over from me. I want this to be everything you thought that first night should be. I love you, Chloe Farriston. I love your kindness, your positivity. You shine a glow on everyone and everything around you. You saved me from myself.”

I don’t think Chloe is breathing at this point, and I can see the tears welling in her lower lids.

“I want to shine with you. I want to save you, forever. For the rest of our lives. I want to be the prince to your princess.”

I pull the ring box out of my pocket and hold it up, offering it to her. She grabs it with shaking hands, staring at me with such questions in her beautiful face. Flicking it open, she lets out a small sob when the princess cut halo diamond ring sparkles in front of her face.

“Chloe, I’m in love with you. And I know we are young, and we don’t have to rush this, but I know you are it for me. You have known its been me for years. I want to prove to you that I will choose you for the next hundred years. Marry me? Marry me and live your life with me.”

I exhale, anxiety and jitters knotting my stomach. Chloe is weeping now, tears trailing down her face.

“Say something, baby.” I palm her cheeks, waiting for her answer.

“Yes.” She barely whispers it, and I attack her, fusing my lips to hers, coaxing her lips and drawing out her soft sobs as we smile and try to catch our breath. “I love you. I love you. I love you.” She chants it again and again.

I take the ring out, placing it on her slim finger. It looks perfect, just like her. We admire it, watching the way the diamond catches the light of the twinkling wheel.

“And the white knight gets the princess once again…”

Chloe laughs, and I wipe the tears of joy off her cheeks with my thumb. She kisses me, and I know that I am the downright luckiest man on the face of the earth. Take that, Lou Gehrig.

T
hey say
those who can't do, teach. Well, Carrie has no hand-eye coordination, and her idea of romance is a Netflix marathon complete with Thai food. So, she writes sports romance novels instead.

Beginning her writing career as a journalist, Carrie wrote about real-life crime and scandal before turning to the fantasy world of fiction. She lives with her soon-to-be husband in an apartment they are constantly outgrowing.

For more information:

• @authorcarriea
  
• carrieaarons
  

W
hat do
you do when the town golden boy, who never noticed you in high school, decides to make a play for your heart?

For Minka Braxton, high school has been anything but easy. After a humiliating scandal sophomore year, she's avoided the social scene and anything having to do with boys, especially of the popular variety. But with senior year approaching, Minka decides it's time to take life back into her own hands. That is, until Owen Axel, the type of guy she's always avoided, decides he wants her in his hands.

Owen Axel is the definition of popular. Good looks, all-star worthy pitching arm and a former pro-athlete father make him Mitchum's town God. Returning from college for the summer, his plan is simple. Beach, booz, and beautiful girls. But one look at Minka Braxton and he knows what he wants. He just doesn't count on her not wanting him.

As the summer unfolds, both must decide how much to reveal, how deep they should fall, and what might happen if they strike out.