Home Run Baby: A Sports Romance (13 page)

“But…” I pull out a fresh shirt, “I don’t know, it seems to be working for us, so I’m just gonna go with it and see what happens.”

“Whatever you say,” she chuckles.

“Oh, please. Like you and John never do a bit of role-playing now and then.”

“I think this is a whole other level of role-playing, Daisy,” she says. “This is straight-up denial.”

“I can’t help it, though…” I say, my eyes flicking towards the bed. The sheets are still ruffled up and I resist the urge to smell the pillow to get a hit of his cologne. “I don’t know if it’s
me
or the
baby
or the
hormones
or
whatever
, but I just want him inside of me…
a lot.”

“Sounds exhausting,” Rose chuckles.

“It is.”

“Your poor dugout.”

“Every time I see him, I feel this
attraction
. I don’t know how to explain it.”

“Well, it
sounds
like you love him.”

“Pfft…”
I pause and shake my head at the word. “No, I don’t.”

“Daisy.”

“I don’t!” I pull my tank off and throw on the fresh shirt. “If I were to calculate the amount of time I’ve spent with the guy, I’m pretty sure it amounts to… not enough time to fall in love with a person.”

“Love isn’t an exact science.”

“Actually, yeah. I’ll do it now…” I think back in time, counting on my fingers as I go. “Okay, that first night… I met him just after midnight and left his place around five-
ish
, so that’s five hours. Then we spent like thirty minutes together in the hospital and another thirty together that night, so we’re up to
six
.”

She sighs. “You’re really going to count it up, aren’t you—”

“Then, yesterday,” I continue, “We were on the bus together from eleven to three, that’s like five hours right there.”

“It’s
four
, but I get your point, Daisy—”

“
Then
—”

“Daisy, stop!”

“I’m
not
in love with him, Rose.”

“Okay. I take it back,” she says. “You’re not in love with him.”

I hear the doubt in her tone, the same doubt I hear in my own voice, but it’s far more difficult to ignore when I hear it echoed back at me through my twin.

“But just for future reference,” I say, “how long did it take before you fell in love with John?”

“I don’t know,” she says. “That just kind of snuck up on me.”

A knock hits the door, a fast pounding that can only come from one source.

“Oh,
Daaaisy
!” Trisha calls. “You in there?”

“Rose, I gotta go. I’ll call you later, okay?”

“All right,” she says, “but Daisy…”

“What?”

She pauses for a second and then sighs. “I don’t know. I thought I had a nugget of wisdom to throw down but that’s as far as I got.”

I frown.
“Weak.”

“Bye, Daisy.”

“Bye, Rose.”

I hang up and rush to the door to stop the constant tapping from causing a major headache.

“There you are!” Trisha grins at me. She’s clad in a tight top and a pencil skirt with a bright blue scarf dangling from around her neck. Even her hair is perfectly styled, unlike mine that’s still wet from my shower. “I didn’t see you down at breakfast. Thought I’d run up and see what you’re up to.”

I take a breath, shoving the word
breakfast
from my head before the very thought of it makes me queasy. “I’m just moving a little slow this morning.”

“Well,
speed up
,” she says, raising a brow. “The team is headed for batting practice. We got a game to win and photos to shoot.”

I nod and point over my shoulder. “I’ll be right down. Just gonna dry my hair real fast.”

She takes a step forward, inviting herself into my room. “So, Daisy…”

I close the door and watch as she scans the place. “Yes, Trisha?”

“You wouldn’t happen to know where Hunter was last night, would you?”

“Uh…” I blink. “No. Why?”

She sits down on the edge of the bed next to my suitcase and pulls a shirt off the top. “Oh, I just stopped by his room last night and he wasn’t there,” she says, casually draping my shirt over her round chest and tossing it back down. “I thought maybe you saw something I didn’t.”

“I didn’t see nothing,” I spit.

She shrugs and stands up. “Before I got the job at
SI
, I worked for one of those tabloids. You know, those assholes that really
dig
into people’s personal lives.”

“Yeah, I know,” I say, growing nervous.

“I guess the habit never really dies,” she chuckles, glancing me up and down with black, shark-like eyes. “I just get so…
curious
.”

I force myself to smile. “Sounds exhausting.”

“Not quite as exhausting as other things,” she winks. “Anyway, I’ll let you finish getting pretty.”

“I’ll be down in five.”

“Make it ten, honey.”

“… Okay.”

I try not to think about what she means as she steps around me. She flashes another quick, knowing glance around the room before stepping outside and closing the door behind her.

I heave a breath, emptying my lungs as a shudder wrecks my spinal cord.

12 WEEKS

Chapter 16

Daisy

If there’s one thing most people — myself included — don’t realize about being a professional athlete, it’s the amount of travel involved.

Day in, day out. It’s one, long, unending, road trip.
I’m
completely exhausted and I don’t even have to lift a single ball. So, it’s not surprising that most of the team sleeps through the majority of these long nights on the bus. Heads slumped against the uncomfortable seats, snoring loudly into each other’s ears.

But we don’t mind.

Hunter and I sit in the back, whispering softly to each other, keeping our voices just below the dull rumble of the bus engine so we don’t disturb anyone around us — especially Trisha. Luckily, she’s currently using Devin’s wide shoulder as a pillow and he’s got his nose buried in her fluffy hair.

I swipe across my phone to the next photo. “And this is our dad,” I say, twisting my hand to show Hunter the screen. The low light of the phone illuminates his face, casting soft shadows over every crevice of his carved features as he studies the photo of me, Rose, and our father.

“Wow, he looks nothing like you guys,” he notes.

“We got his eye color but that’s about it. On the outside, anyway. If you ask my mother, I’m the spitting image of him.”

Hunter picks through his own photos while I swipe through mine. “How so?”

“Reckless,” I grin. “Irresponsible.
Artsy.
”

“I see,” he chuckles.

“I actually haven’t seen the man since our high school graduation.”

“Yikes.” He turns his phone towards me. “These are my parents.”

I lean closer and smile at the two goofballs grinning back at me in baseball caps holding homemade pendants with
Go, Hunter!
scrawled in black marker. “They look fun.”

“They are,” he nods. “Dad’s a veterinarian; Mom’s a librarian.”

“I have this image of you in my head now,” I say. “Growing up out in the country with cows and a tire swing, mowing your neighbor’s lawns in the summer and helping nice, old Miss Maggie carry in her groceries.”

“You know, that’s not too far off.”

“Really?”

“Well, except the cows.”

“Never milked a cow?”

“I have never touched a teat, no.”

I laugh and swipe a little more through my photo library without looking.

His jaw drops. “Oh, speaking of
teats
.”

I look down and wince, quickly twisting the phone away as I stumble through a few not-so prudish snapshots of myself. “Oh, those are just—”

“Hey— No, let me see that—” He reaches for my phone but I pull it away, trying to hold back the cackle in my throat.

“No, no,” I whisper. “You don’t need to see—”

Hunter yanks it from my grasp and grins at the screen with wide, hungry eyes. “Oh,
baby
…”

“Okay,
fine
.” I steal his phone from him. “I’m willing to bet you’ve got a few dick pics on here.”

“Knock yourself out.” He tilts his head and enlarges the image, smiling with his eyes locked on the screen.
“Niiice.”

I roll my eyes and flick through his photos, searching for skin. I land on a picture of a house with a wraparound porch, painted white with a big tree out in front. “Is this your house?”

Hunter pulls his eyes away from my tits for a second to look. “Yep,” he nods. “That’s where I grew up.”

“Do your parents still live there now?”

“Yeah, I took that in May just before I moved to New Jersey.” He pauses. “The morning after we hooked-up, actually.”

I smile. “You wanted a picture of your childhood home on your phone before you left?”

“… Yes.”

“That is
adorable
.”

He peeks at me once before zoning in on my phone again.

I admire the house, wondering what it would be like to live in a place like that. My parents were city-dwellers, always have been. It’d be strange to look outside and see green grass instead of the pale and gray concrete jungle.

Hunter taps on the screen with his purposeful thumbs.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

“Nothing.”

His phone buzzes in my hand and I gasp. “Did you seriously just
text my nude photos
to yourself?”

“Yes, I did.”

“You have no shame, Hunter.”

“No, I don’t.”

I pop open the text message. “You didn’t even get the
best
ones.”

“I took my
favorite
ones.”

I shake my head at one of them; sloppy and blurry. “You like
this
one? I’m not even posing. I’m pretty sure this one snapped by accident.”

“You look vulnerable,” he says.

“Vulnerable?”
I parrot back.

“Yeah, look at your eyes.”

“What so
sexy
about me looking vulnerable?”

Hunter smiles. “Because you rarely ever do. The only other time I’ve seen your eyes like that is back at the bar the night we met.” He pauses to stare a little more at the photo. “In fact, that was the moment I decided to take you home with me.”

Street lights pass us by, occasionally shining a bright, orange glow through his eyes and I stare at him, unable to look away. He looks back at me, unblinking, and focuses for a long second on my lips before moving closer to me.

I lean away from him. “We probably shouldn’t do that
here
…”

“Oh, yeah,” he says, glancing around at his sleeping teammates. “You’re right, we shouldn’t—”

He juts down and crushes his lips on mine. I smile against his mouth, drawn even closer to him and I can’t stop myself from kissing him back. My guts laugh and my senses quiver for him as the silent kiss takes me over.

Hunter sits back and licks his lips, casting another casual glance around the crowded bus to check for peeping eyes. “No harm done,” he whispers.

My heart races, pumping blood throughout every limb. I clear my throat and settle deeper into my seat with warm cheeks.

“Would you look at that?”

“What?” I ask.

He studies my pink face. “I just thought you were naughtier than this, that’s all.”

I scoff. “I
am
naughty.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah, I’m hella naughty,” I joke. “Check out your phone.”

He chuckles and rubs his chin. “Okay, okay. You’re naughty.”

“That’s right.”

We sit with silent smiles. My eyes slip out the window and I watch the passing signs and billboards. The bus rumbles down the road, providing a gentle lullaby and I pull my blanket a little closer.

Hunter lays his hand on my thigh beneath the blanket and I feel his touch traveling up my jeans to rest on my zipper.