: Chapter 21
Dirty Curve
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 donât recognize, and when I look down, I realize Iâm on a lounger Iâve 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 personâs wrist.
My chin drops in relief. âFuck, Coach.â I squint up at him, wincing as I do.
He blows a long breath out of his nose. âDrink this, take these, and hit the sauna. Youâve got a couple hours to sweat this shit out and then itâs game time.â
Nodding, I look to the giant ass horse pills, and push to my feet.
âWhat the fuck happened last night? Howâd I get here?â I look around, rolling my shoulder a few times to ease some of the tension from yesterdayâs game. âWhere the fuck is here?â
âThis is my suite; it comes with a deck view.â He chuckles, a small shrug following. âAnd 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.â
My frown falls to the grass. Not a single image from last night popping into my mind.
âLast I remember we went to the bar to meet those Aâs scouts you said were coming to talk to me on the DL, but I donât remember them showing up.â
âYouâre lucky I was able to get a hold of them to let them know you retired to your hotel room.â 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 sheâs my girl â¦
Oh fuck.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Last night I didnât ⦠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 doesnât show up. âYou see my phone?â
âNo, maybe you left it somewhere last night?â Coach Reid watches me from the patio.
âFuck!â I hiss.
âYou need to hit the sauna,â he says again.
âIâll be good, Coach.â I dash for the door, tearing it open.
âTobias, wait!â Coach Reid shouts behind me, but Iâm already gone.
And when I get back to my room, Meyer is stepping from hers.
Thereâs a chair propping her door open, and she has Baileyâs car seat in one hand, diaper bag in the other.
Sheâs leaving?
I skid to a stop, her eyes popping up to mine the second my feet are planted.
She gasps, her lips parting. âTobias.â
I wince.
The way she whispers my name, as if her body aches but her mind has reached acceptance, makes my throat burn.
âHey.â 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.
Sheâs 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 lastâs place.
She thinks I fucked up, and that means, in her perfect little mind, thereâs 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 wouldnât she?
Itâs what the school paper loves to focus on, my shit off the field. It doesnât matter if you read it or not, itâs damn near impossible not to prejudge off of the quick glimpses you canât get away from. They plaster the things in the halls of every building and post on every social media site in existence. But thatâs not the worse part. Thatâs understandable, something I canât and havenât been able to get away from.
Whatâs 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 weâve 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 Iâve 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 â¦
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.
âMeyer, look at me,â I rasp, my hand sinking into her hair. âBaby, please â¦â
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 didnât exactly make plans for last night, but in my head, we didnât need to. We had plans and our plans consisted of us, together. End of fucking story.
I donât know what happened last night, but I didnât do anything Iâd regret.
Thereâs no way.
I wouldnât.
Not to her.
Not to them.
I donât even care to look at another girl anymore, let alone touch one, and itâs been that way for weeks now, long before her smile shifted.
It has shifted.
We have shifted.
My head begins to shake. âListenââ
âI didnât mean to assume anything and you donât owe me an explanation.â Meyerâs tone is pleading, as if sheâs begging me not to speak. âWeâreââ
âSay friends, I dare you.â
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. Thatâs when she opens her eyes.
If they werenât clouded, the void expression within them might just kill me on the spot, but the moisture lets me know Iâm in there. You have to care about someone for them to have the ability to hurt you.
âIâm a mother.â She nods. âIâm a mother and Iâve been irresponsible.â
âNo.â
âComing here was a bad idea, I knew that. It was reckless and â¦â
âDonât say it.â
âI should have never been assigned to you.â She swallows, resolve slipping over her and making my fingers numb. âI shouldnât be here, and I really shouldnât have brought my little girl. I made a mistake.â She swallows, the honesty in her tone just about burning my skin from my bones. âI knew the life you lived and I never shouldââ
Her words halt on her lips when the door sheâs 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.
âWell, good morning.â Neo chuckles and the chickâs face, who I now realize is the reporter from yesterdayâs 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.
Itâs the spare key card to my hotel room, the one our team coordinator handed me when he passed them out to the team after yesterdayâs game. His way of covering his own ass should someone see him skip over me and wonder why.
I glare and Neoâs smirk deepens.
âHey, you passed out at the grill. It took three of us to get your ass into the car and out into Coachâs room last night. I loaned you a shoulder and you happily loaned me your room so I didnât have to keep X up all night in mine.â
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. âHi, Meyer!â
But Meyer doesnât say a word, sheâs 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 Baileyâs 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. âTobias, Iââ
I jerk forward, take her neck in my palm, and smash my lips into hers.
Meyerâs muscles lock up, but only for a moment, and then every bit of her melts against me. She kisses me back.
Itâs 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.
Itâs like I can finally fucking breathe, her air providing whatever it is mineâs 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 Baileyâs car seat with my left. I lead us into Meyerâs 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 Meyerâs 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 dickâs 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 Iâm ready to shred her shirt from her body, to reveal the skin Iâve fantasized about more times than I care to count.
âFuck,â I pant, and her husky chuckle draws me right back.
I take her mouth again, biting at her lower lip, demanding my tongueâs entrance once more, and goddamn I could come just by fucking kissing her.
Sheâs silky and smooth and tastes like mine.
She is mine.
âLet me taste your skin, Tutor Girl.â 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 donât kiss her right away.
I push the tip of my tongue out, flicking it against her. âYou gonna shake for me, baby?â
Her thighs twitch and I know Iâve found my first sweet spot, a spot Iâll torture her with when sheâs 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. Iâm a fucking rod, so solid Iâm 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.
âThis ass,â I groan, my left hand gliding up to tap at the edge of her ass cheek. âIâve fucking dreamed about it, fucked myself fantasizing about it.â I bite at her lips and her eyes practically roll back in her head.
âMine,â 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, Meyerâs 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, Baileyâs 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, sheâs 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 wasnât 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 didnât mean to hope, and I understand what she was trying to say now.
Carefully unbuckling Baileyâs 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.
âYou were right to assume,â I tell her, taking her face in my palm. âBecause we arenât just student and tutor, havenât been for a long ass time as far as Iâm concerned.â
She nibbles at the inside of her lip, eyes on me.
âI donât 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 didnât and that wonât happen again.â
âI donât expect you toââ
âExpect it,â I cut her off. âWhatever it is, expect it, want it, demand it even. Thereâs only one other person in this fucking world I allow to get in my head, but baby, you didnât ask permission.â My lips curl into a smile. âGirl, you didnât even want the spot, the way I remember it, but you stole it regardless.â
Her chuckle is soft and while her chin lowers, those eyes of hers stay on mine.
âEven if you didnât, Iâd have given it to you.â My eyes move between hers. âLet me be someone that matters to you, âcause, you matter to me, Tutor Girl. Both of you do.â
âYou do matter, Tobias,â she whispers. âAnd thatâs one of the hardest parts of this.â
Something warm spreads through my chest and I canât fight the smirk that takes over.
âI put a ticket in your name yesterday for todayâs game. Come. Watch me pitch.â I run my thumb along her jaw, my pulse punching against my ribs when she leans into my touch. âBe the reason I win today.â
Something flashes in her eyes, but she blinks it away, a light nod following. âOkay.â
My brows jump, my smile fucking wide. âYeah?â
âYeah.â
âYouâll be there?â
âI said yes.â She laughs. âThat means Iâm coming.â
I groan, hop up and over the bed until Iâm 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. âNext time you say Iâm coming ⦠you will be, so careful with your choice of words, Tutor Girl, or donât be if youâre ready to jump right to it.â
I stand, and her attention snaps from where Iâm fisting myself to my eyes, following me as I take backward steps away from her, my eyes clenched tight.
âWhat are you doing?â
âReplaying the taste of you, so when I step into that shower right now, I can get there quick.â
âTobias!â She chuckles, but Iâm not playing.
I climb into her shower with one thing on my mind.
Her naked and under me.
Works like a fucking charm.