Third Base (The Boys of Summer Book 1) (26 page)

“Son of a bitch, you fucked a vampire.” He’s seen the bite marks Daisy left on my shoulder and chest. I didn’t mind them then and I don’t know. I honestly don’t give a shit what Kidd or anyone else has to say about them either. Last night… I don’t want to be cheesy and say it was magical, but damn if she wasn’t made for me. We fit together perfectly, even if the elephant in the room sat there mocking me while I got my rocks off. We need to clear the air about the whole blogger bullshit before it escalates. Sarah says she should be allowed to read it because they’re fun and can give you a different perspective of what’s going on. We’re famous and need to accept that people want to know
everything
about us. I hate to think Sarah is right, but I know she is.

Everyone in the clubhouse stops talking. I don’t need to turn around to know that everyone is staring at me. I can feel their eyes boring into my back.

“You’re an ass.”

“Yes, but you knew that. Spill. Let’s be girls and gossip.”

“No thanks,” I say as I focus on getting dressed. Kidd finally drops the inquisition. I know it’s not over and he’ll be up my ass again, but for right now he’s quiet.

As soon as my cleats hit the concrete walkway out to the dugout, my heart starts racing. I’m anxious to see her and even though I see her almost every day, everything is different. Sex changes everything. The only time it doesn’t is when it’s a hook-up and you never intend to see that person again. I intend to see Daisy every fucking day until she tells me to stop.

The moment I climb the steps I’m looking left. She’s there with her grandfather. I’m not close enough to see his expression, but that’s about to change. I can’t help the movement of my feet as I walk over to her. Kids come rushing down for autographs and I oblige each and every request, looking at her briefly in between each signing.

When the usher stands by the gate blocking people from being near her, even though that’s not really what he’s doing, I know it’s my opportunity to talk to her.

She stands when she sees me walking toward her. I wave to the usher, who nods and moves up a few steps so she can come over to the gate.

“I really want to kiss you right now,” I say, clasping my hands together in front of me. My cup prevents anyone from seeing the semi forming in my pants.

“I think the staff would frown on such behavior.”

I nod in full agreement. “So would your grandfather. I think his idea of how baseball players’ act would not coincide with me sticking my tongue down his granddaughter’s throat.”

Daisy laughs and covers her mouth. She looks over her shoulder, beaming at her grandpa and I’m instantly jealous that she’s getting moments like this with him. I miss mine and now I’m going to call my mom and arrange for everyone to come out here for a week.

I do something that isn’t against the rules, but frowned upon nonetheless. I open the gate and take the few steps to talk to John. Fans see this and start rushing my way, but the usher calls for them to back up and now we’re being blocked from people bum rushing us, giving us minimal privacy.

“How are you doing?” I ask, shaking his hand.

“Oh young man, I’m a very happy man right now and I have you to thank for this.” He spreads his arm out and looks over the stadium. I don’t miss the slight watering in his eyes, but that doesn’t need to be brought to his attention.

“I like hearing that. I hope we can make it worthwhile for you. I know you’re missing Jeopardy.”

He laughs and squeezes my hand. I pat him on the back and walk back toward the gate, subtly touching Daisy’s hip when I pass.

“I’ll be over tonight,” she says, winking and sending the nerve endings in my body to heightened alert.

“Fuck me,” I mumble when I pass through the gate. I look over my shoulder and smile. “I’ll be there.”

I jog out to the outfield to see Kidd and the other guys. If I don’t do it now, it’ll happen in the clubhouse and I’m not sure if I’m ready to answer any of the media’s questions about Daisy. My teammates are a different story.

Bainbridge wraps his arm around my neck and rubs his knuckles over my hat. “Fucking wrap that shit tight, Davenport. The last thing you need right now is a pregnancy.”

“It’s okay, Bainbridge, his pussy packer is weak in that department,” Kidd yells as he catches one of Meyer’s pop flies.

“Fuck you, Kidd. I don’t see you with anyone.”

He looks at me after tossing the ball back toward the infield and says, “Why do you think I keep having parties that you never attend? I’m testing out the finer qualities of the Massachusetts women.”

“You’re going to get into trouble if you’re not careful,” Bainbridge adds.

“Nah. I know what no means.”

When I look at Kidd, I’m not so sure he does, but I hope that when a woman says it, it registers.

No one considers May to be a mid-season slump, unless you’re a Renegades fan. We’re racking up more losses than wins right now and heading into June, we’re well under 500 with a 24-30 record. This isn’t how our season is meant to go and it’s probably time for General Manager, Ryan Stone, to take a look at the coaching staff.

Why staff, you ask?

Right now the Renegades are the youngest team in the league and it doesn’t make sense to break them up. With the exception of Bainbridge, the team age is an average of 24-years old. They’re young men in their prime and not so far removed from their college days that they still understand the concept of hard work.

Is our coaching/management staff bad?

No, not necessarily, but they’re not showing stellar improvement either. Clearly the batting line-up isn’t working and could use some fine-tuning. And management needs to make a move on Cooper Bailey before it’s too late. Rumors are milling around that he’s seeking a trade because he’s ready to play for the big leagues. And honestly, we can’t really blame him. His batting average is through the roof, as is his on base percentage. Those are numbers the Renegades need right now.

No one is consistent right now for the Renegades. When one is hot, the rest are fizzling. The guys need to find their happy medium as a team and deliver the games they’re being paid to deliver.

GOSSIP WIRE
:

Even though they’re going to counseling, it looks like the Bainbridges are heading for the big D (and I don’t mean Dallas) if he isn’t traded or doesn’t announce his retirement soon. Sources close to the couple have said that Bainbridge has, in fact, cheated and isn’t willing to let the mistress go and the current Mrs. Bainbridge isn’t willing to concede to a divorce without some serious cash flow. As it’s been stated before, the senior Mr. Bainbridge made sure his son was fully protected from any gold digging that might occur and Mrs. Bainbridge is none too happy that no one is willing to pay her off.

Isn’t marriage grand?

Ethan Davenport – Boston’s resident Most Eligible Bachelor – is off the market. His college co-ed, who didn’t graduate with her class this month – has been seen going in and out of his house nightly. Thanks to Mr. Davenport for putting his address on Twitter, we’re able to send our spies out whenever we want.

Easton Bennett has yet to acknowledge the recent birth of a son to his sometimes girlfriend. In fact, he hasn’t even been seen with her, but has been spotted going in and out of her apartment. I guess we’re waiting for that pesky blood test to reveal the true identity of the father.

The BoRe Blogger

I’
m standing against a rental van equipped with a wheelchair lift and a brand new scooter inside. I’m not trying to buy Daisy’s love, but trying to ease her burden. She struggles financially, something I didn’t take into consideration until Boston University had graduation and she didn’t invite me to attend. I tried not to let my feelings get hurt, but when I read the list of graduates and she wasn’t in there, I had to ask her why. It took some prodding and some definite hot ass kisses to get her to spill. I played it off, acting like it didn’t affect me, but the truth of the matter is that it does. I don’t see her as a charity case. She’s my friend… my girlfriend, in fact, and if I want to help her, I’m going to.

When Daisy steps out, her eyes widen. I know she’s probably thinking that I bought this for her, and while that would definitely be a grand gesture, she’s far too young to be driving around in a van.

“What’s this?” Daisy asks, walking toward me.

Spreading my arms out wide, I say, “This is our mode of transportation today. However, there is a surprise in the back for your grandpa.”

Her eyes narrow in skepticism as she leans in to look. The windows are darkened, limiting her line of sight. “What? I don’t see anything.” she says, stepping back and crossing her arms.

Pressing the button on my fob, the door slides open, revealing a custom black and red (of course) motor scooter. As much as I want to admire the craftsmanship of the decals, her expression is far more heart-warming. Her mouth drops open and there’s a slight cry of surprise before she covers her mouth with her hand.

“We can’t accept this,” she says. I knew she was going to say that. Everyone always says that when you try and give them an expensive gift.

“Why not?” I want to hear her excuses and if they’re valid, I’ll donate the scooter.

“Because it’s too much.”

That’s definitely not a valid enough reason. I step forward and pull her into my arms, kissing her gently on her cheeks and finally her lips.