HER.
"Welcome to South Carolina." There was pure excitement in our coach's eyes. He lived for times like these, moments where he could go to championships like this. The ones that win it all. The bus passes the state sign. I awe over the picture of a crescent moon above a tree.
"Got any connections in this state?" I take a glove from my backpack, and throw it across the aisle to where Carson sat, slumped against the window, fast asleep. He jerks awake, then looks down at my hot pink glove with a glare. He flashes his middle finger at me, and then pushes the glove through the small opening of the window. I gasp, watching the fabric get sucked up by the wind. "You're a monster," I mouth, now realizing he has headphones on underneath his hood.
Ryker chuckles beside me. "A grumpy little thing he is when he's sleepy." I agree for sure. There aren't very many times when you disturb his sleep, though when you do, he's quick to snap at you. I smile, watching him lean back against the window, eyes fluttering closed. "You don't know his championship series schedule yet."
"Care to share?" If I have to deal with his dickish personality more while we're on this trip, we might not make it out as a couple. Ryker digs into the backpack that's dividing our bus seat, searching for my snacks. "Hey!" I reach for the granola bar he managed to snatch out, but he moves back away from me faster than I could grab it.
He flashes a grin at me, showing his teeth. I'm kind of sad that his teeth are actually nice without the hunk of metal that I met him with in his mouth. I'm going to have to ask Kennedy what exactly went on for her to make him take them out. Ryker gives a glance at Carson before spilling the beans. "He sleeps as much as he can before games because once we start, he's not going to get much of it."
"Why not?"
"Adrenaline, and wanting to be the best. He stays up late practicing, and wakes up early to practice."
I catch myself frowning, thinking of where he'd be if we didn't run into each other that day. Would he have been playing pro right now? Or would a different injury have come up because he was never fated to play professionally? I feel god awful about it, but I have to remember that it was an accident, though it still sucks that it happened. "He's not mad at you anymore, don't worry about it."
I cover my eyes with my hands. "Can you stop that!" The readings, they're so creepy. "Go read someone else."
"No one else likes it."
"And you think I do?" I raise my voice, my eyes still hiding behind my hands, though I hear his laughter loud and clear. I put my hand back down after sensing he wasn't staring at me, and lay my head on his shoulder. "You smell like lemons." I turn my nose to his shirt, inhaling the fresh citrusy scent from what seems to be his skin, not his shirt. I brush my nose against his bicep.
"Saw Kennedy one last time," his voice was soft, but lit with an affection that made me smile. Guess he rolled around in her bed for quite a while, picking up whatever and everything that she had to offer him. He's so sick in love, it's insane, though he likes to keep it confined. I'm sure Carson gets a lot more of the Ryker that's in love with his sister than I do.
"Are you excited about all of this?" I ask him, referring to the tournament we were driving straight into. It was going to be an interesting couple of weeks, full of games and rooming with these two boys, but I'm ready for whatever is coming for us.
"Hell yes," I lean away from him, resting my back against the side of the bus near the window, watching as he nods his head, hair swooshing to his forehead. He rips open the granola bar package and bites just over half of it, saying with a full mouth, "It's a good outlet for me, whenever I do get to play...are you?"
I'm nervous as heck. "I'm anxious, but I'm ready to have fun." And win. I wince, realizing I should've said it, but I didn't. Maybe I'm just a teeny more excited to go to the after parties than actually playing the games, though of course I still love doing what I do.
I find myself waking up from a nap when the bus stops. "Come on," Carson pushes Ryker, whose body leans into mine. My face is squished against his. We had both fallen asleep on each other. I peel myself away from him just as he gains consciousness. I give him a helpful poke. His eyes lazily open, before he wipes them and looks around. Everyone's getting their bags, then hopping off the bus to form a small crowd in the parking lot of a hotel.
"Shit, my bad guys," Ryker hoists himself up out of the seat, his tattooed hands digging into the back of the seat in front of us. I grimace, feeling bad for that poor thing getting bent up by his hands. He puts on his backpack, the only thing he's brought with him, and heads down the aisle, leaving Carson and I.
"You ready?" He walks a few steps backwards, giving me room to get out before wrapping his arms around me and kissing my forehead. We both waddle down, following Ryker with our bags hauled over Carson's shoulders, the weight of our stuff sways every time he takes a step.
"Yes."
|||
GAME ONE
"No!" I groan, picking myself up off of the fake grass.
"I'm sorry," number fifty-five from the other team tells me, holding my arms to keep me steady. At least, that's what he thought he was doing. I politely push his hands away, forcing my lips upward and start a light jog further away from the second base. I bring my hand up to my face, intending to block out the sun that seems to be hot on all of us as if we were under magnifying glasses.
"Cute try!" Hunter, our lovely second baseman turns around and smiles at me while fixing the hat on his head. A few strands of dark hair escape, and stick to his skin before he slicks it all back (ew, sweaty, gross).
I flip him off, and hear the faintest gasp traveling through the air on the left of me. I snap my gaze to Carson, who has his hand over his mouth, reacting to my flipping off of Hunter. I was extremely close to getting that boy out, if he wasn't such a bulldozer.
My elbow tingles, and my attention is brought to a slight wetness on the back of my arm. I lift my gloved hand up, moving my arm across my body to try and get a peek at the back of my elbow. "Carter!" I jump, throwing my hand up instinctively, and nearly shriek in laughter feeling the smack of a baseball in my glove.
"Woo!" I hold it up in the air as the out gets called. This is going to be a hell of a series.
GAME TWO
"I still don't understand how you managed to catch that ball while looking at your elbow," Isaiah shakes his head, and from what I can see over the shot glass I'm holding to my mouth, he leans against the bar counter.
I'm still struggling to understand it, but I'm not complaining. I toss the shot back, giving a little thrilling yelp of accomplishment. "I don't get how this is going so easily. I mean, Vinny literally destroyed them today, I didn't have to do anything in CF." It was a very smooth game. Vincent had tons of wicked pitches, and there were a lot of forced outs, so us guys in the back were smooth sailing.
"I'm going to the field tonight, are you coming with me?" Carson murmurs in my ear, his spicy, minty, cinnamon scent making my mouth water as he presses his chest to my back.
I shake my head, tilting my head back to pucker my lips for a kiss. He leans in briefly, granting me the affection before purposefully gagging. I don't think he's ever going to be able to drink straight liquor with me, but I'm perfectly okay with that. It did make me a little sad to see him react that way, though. "Have fun, and come back to me."
"Always." My heart stutters.
And then he's gone. The bartender asks me if I want another drink, and I kindly ask for a water, looking back into the crowd because my mind wanted to watch him walk away, but he's already pushed through the loads of people.
Isaiah audibly coos over my water preference. "You guys are so adorable."
"No you," you and Vincent, "guys are adorable!" I point at him, and swivel around in the swirly chair to look for his counterpart. "Don't act like I didn't see that kiss you guys had after the game today."
He waves me off before diverting the subject, but I knew he had to be blushing, and rethinking their kiss, especially because he discreetly shifted in his seat. That brings me back to a former thought, "How's your bottom?"
He nearly spits out his drink, his body curling forward, and lips pressing together to contain his alcohol. My little giggles turn into full blown laughter watching his reaction. "Don't."
"Come on!" I tease, nudging his knee with my own. "You have to spill the beans."
"What beans?" His boyfriend comes over to us, overbearing our conversation. I shoo Vinny away.
"None of your business, you may leave." He arches a brow at me, so I do the same, though I have trouble keeping a straight face with him. "I'm just asking Isaiah about his health."
Isaiah looks up at Vincent, and with that one look, he knew, his face changing as if a lightbulb flashed in the dark closet of his brain (pun absolutely not intended). "Well how is it, babe?"
Isaiah shakes his head at us, sipping his drink. "Yeah fuck you guys."
One day he'll tell us.
GAME THREE
It was a new team that we were playing against because the last one got beat two times in a row. While that team seemed like a cake walk, this one was a little more loaded with people that could play as well as the boys on our team. And me, you can't forget about me.
What also made this game a little shaky, was Ryker had gotten a call about some family crap that's going on a few hours before the game, and it's taken somewhat of a toll on him.
I run as fast as I can, getting closer and closer to the back wall of the field, everyone in the diamond and closer holding their breaths to see if I'm actually going to catch this ball. I hit the wall, my arm up in the air, eyes squinting so much that I could barely see. Though the ball didn't reach my glove.
"Home run!"
It went over.
I massage my shoulder, pouting at the slight pain, and then check on my elbow from yesterday. Pulling back the square bandage revealed the crusting scab on my elbow. It still stings a little bit, but a Neosporin does the trick. We head into the dugout, everyone giving pats on Ryker's back as coach gears up to berate us.
Ryker doesn't pay him any attention, heading to a spot in the far corner of the underground before sinking into it, resting his elbows on his knees. By the look of his dark, thunderous eyes, I knew he didn't want to be tested, but Coach obviously didn't care. "Ryker..." his tone was soft but firm, and everyone felt it. Today was the first time I witnessed a slice of Carson's best friend's wrath.
His eyes practically flashed. "The two year gap between us doesn't mean shit to me," his finger gestures between the both of them, so that everyone knew exactly who he was talking to. Yes, he was talking to our coach without an ounce of respect, and he was making it known to everyone on the team that he doesn't care who you are. "Let's not play the father role because I'll show you how to be a daddy." I felt the blush speckle my cheeks, and whistled softly to myself.
"He doesn't mean it," Carson clears the air, which had me realize that this was something that happens with Ryker normally. "He's just stressed."
"I understand that. I wasn't going to get in your business, Ryk. I just wanted to see where your head is."
"It's on my fucking head, leave it." And that's the end of that. Isaiah uses this awkward time to skedaddle, going up to bat when the umpire calls for us. Ryker and I lock eyes. He curls his finger at me, beckoning me over. I turn, looking at Carson who was obviously watching our interaction. He gives an encouraging bat of his eye before getting up to talk to our coach.
Groaning, I get up and walk over to my new friend. He rubs his hand over his face. "I messed up. Can you tell me what to say?" He asks sheepishly, digging into his pants. He pulls out his phone, swiping through to find a text message.
I take his phone, wincing after seeing the explicit words before getting into these messages. I focus on the main issue.
Ken: I need time.
Ryker replies, My sweet, sweet flower, is time not what I've been giving your fucking indecisive ass since we first met?
This was read three hours ago.
I blanch, giving him a dark look. I don't even want to know how their relationship is.
GAME FOUR
Ryker did pull himself together, though it was too late so we lost yesterday. But tonight, tonight our boy was on fire. After getting somewhat of a reconciliation with Kennedy, he and Vinny left during the game before their batting turn to practice some pitches.
It lit a flame within him.
"Out!"
"Out!"
"Strikeout!" He was quite simply put: a beast. When I asked him if he could out Carson, I now understand why he said it so confidently. The man was incredible. Stepping down into the dugout, I didn't know my jaw was almost dragging against the concrete until Carson put his finger underneath my chin, pushing my mouth closed.
"Don't piss me off," he pushes my face, causing me to stumble back. I grin evilly.
We won.
GAME FIVE
"Fucking run!" A collection of profanities were sent my way, being called out to me from beneath the ground. I was having a good hitting streak these past few games, especially because ever since I drank with Isaiah and Vinny that night, Carson has stolen me in the mornings to practice with him.
I sprint, my arms a blur in my peripheral as I gain tunnel vision to at least make it to second base. Our team cheers as Carson runs home, giving us our third point of the game. We are now up by two in the sixth inning. My body jolts, kicking into a second gear when I notice the other team switching, the ball in the air about to hit the second baseman's glove.
He catches it, but miscalculates his stepping by a hair, missing the base before I all but throw myself on it. "Safe!"
I turn around, giving a megawatt smile at the boy, and sort of melting when he smiles back at me. He tosses the ball back to the pitcher before walking closer to me, giving me a better view of his face now that I'm focused on him and not trying to outrun the baseball. There's a small smudge of dirt on his cheek. I reach out, wiping it away.
"That's embarrassing," he wipes his face off with his free hand. "You're killing it. I know I shouldn't say it, but yeah," he shrugs before we both snap out of our little conversation at the sound of Hunter's powerful swing. I give a quick departing call before running to home plate.
The game dragged on, but we came out on top.
"We're on our way to the semifinals, boys!" Coach yells on the bus ride to the hotel. Everyone celebrates around us, and Gardner looks at me, mouthing 'and girl'. Always the inclusive one, he is. Note my sarcasm. Carson was heavily into his phone the entire ride back, so I was forced to admire his side profile, and glance away whenever he looked up because he felt my stare.
"Do you need to go and sit with Ryker again?" He adjusts his headphones to reveal his ear, the leather inside covering the hearts inked there.
"Why are you so mean?"
He ignores me, fingers tapping quickly across the screen. I let it go on for a few more seconds before I couldn't resist the urge to lean over his shoulder and peek. He clicks his phone off, the soft glow illuminating his face in the dark now black. I throw my head back, hitting the seat and growling. His silvery eyes lock onto my hazel ones, little crinkles forming around them at the same time he got those twin creases in his cheeks. "You're finding out your surprise today, don't get frustrated."
"No way," I breathe, still trying to look at his phone for any hints. He shoves it in the front pouch of his hoodie, a cute, content expression on his face. I cuddle into him. "What are you listening to?"
His hand disappears into the pouch, then comes back with his phone lit up. Pink Floyd. He narrows his eyes at my natural, slightly disappointed reaction. "I'm not judging, I swear." I've just never listened to one song from their...group, but I guess it makes sense that he listens to them. "You're adorable," I use the same line that he tells me.
We ended up having to take an Uber after we changed into super casual clothes. I was told I didn't have to dress fancy (not that I was going to anyway) and we were off. We discussed topics like his favorite junk food, nachos, extra cheese, hella bacon, a lifetime goal, building my own business from bottom up, and best the age to start a family, twenty six.
My best age was a ripe twenty two, fresh out of college, but I can understand his more practical answer. You'd definitely have a better foundation for children at twenty six versus twenty two and broke.
I pondered why he answered 'building' his own business instead of starting, and eventually asked as the driver slowed to a stop in front of a house. I raised an eyebrow at the scenery, just as Carson said, "I'm majoring in architecture." The more you know.
"No wonder your glasses look so hot on you," I greedily take in his freshly showered form as he pays the driver. "Thank you!" I tell the man up front before being pushed out by my boyfriend.
He guides me with his hand on my waist up some brick steps, and we stop in front of a yellow, sorta cracked door. I give him a sideways glance, my heart rate beginning to strum in my neck. "So...this is where you sell me to the traffickers?"
He chuckles, and rings the doorbell, not answering my question to keep me on edge. We wait for a few seconds, and the door swings open, a cute girl with pixie cut hair is revealed. While she was giving us a nearly blinding smile, I lost all emotion in my face. His heavy hand comes up to rest on the back of my neck, giving it a gentle squeeze to calm me. He kisses my forehead, and I feel that calmness wash over me because he kissed me in front of her.
"Carson, right?" Her voice had slight hesitation in it, confusing me. They must not know each other. Then I remember what Carson told me when he said he knows someone in South Carolina. A surprise for me. Could it be...?
She holds her hand out for him to shake, and he confirms his name. "Hey Jay, this is my girlfriend, Raine."
"Hi," I give her a three finger wave. She opens the door wider, allowing us into her home while watching back excitedly at me.
"How are you guys?"
We step into her house, and I allow Carson to handle the small talk because I was too busy taking in her interesting setup. The door led straight into a living room, with hardwood floors. The room seemed a bit cluttered, with lots of flowers, and handcrafted trinkets strung up across the ceilings and glued to the walls.
Jay walks in front of us, still babbling about how her day went so far after asking us how we were doing (Carson answered as I respectfully snooped around). She led us into a bedroom that lacked a bed, and I gasped, too caught off guard to cover my mouth or hold it in. My steps falter, causing Carson to bump into me, rocking me forward. He snatches me back against his chest while the girl practically skips around the room.
It was full of dildos.
GAME SIX
"Triple!" Just like the girl that was helping Carson make a mold for me last night, I was skipping to third base, and both Carson and Sebastian ran to home, giving us two points in about thirty seconds. The new lineup with Carson going in front of me is something I can definitely get used to because now he gets to overshadow our shortstop with his sick hits.
The semi-finals are going a lot smoother than any of us anticipated. Even though the number 3 team is giving it their best, we keep inching to the top with each inning. The score is now 3-2, and we're a little less than two innings away from 9th.
This whole time has been wild.
I sneak over, my right foot sliding off of the base as the pitcher winds himself up to throw. I get a little squat in, paying attention to my boys leaning against the gated underground, snickering at my attempt to steal home. As a cleanup, this isn't exactly my job, but I'm having fun, so why not?
I inch by, my left foot now a few teeny inches away from third base, and the pitcher snaps his head toward me. I quickly jump back on the base, and flash him a cheeky grin. There are small whoops of excitement from my team, though the umpire tells them to quiet down.
I put my hand on my hip, waiting.
He pitches the ball a little slower than what he usually throws, and it dips down. A type of pitch that Vinny really loves giving people, so instead of throwing off Hunter, it made him smile, and then he swung.
And the ball disappeared.
"Home run!"
Better luck next time.
GAME SEVEN
I sent a picture of Carson getting his gift for me to Bambi.
Bam: GIRL
Bam: WHAAAAAAAAAAT
Bam: that's hottttttttttt
Don't get worried. I did in fact ask for permission, and he was a little hesitant, though he agreed after seeing that it was just a picture of his shadow. When it was time for him to...dip himself in the waxy, mold stuff, she had him go behind a curtain, which was right by a window. She ended up leaving because she didn't want to look and make him comfortable, but I couldn't take my eyes off of the hot image the sun casted onto the curtain.
It really accentuated his sculpted figure. His strong, big arms. One was planted on the table as he kept his balance, and you couldn't see his erection because it was in a box. However, the box was a big one, and I made sure to take a picture because it was the cutest, hottest thing I'd ever seen. And all he did was stand there, fully clothed with his jeans unbuttoned, and penis in a box.
I was imagining him putting that big thing in that box as he stood there, looking like a shadow because of the direction of the sun as he got into his stance, ready to swing.
"Guys, that's my boyfriend." Everyone down here with me groans, not wanting to hear about me and Carson dating. Not wanting to be reminded that they're sharing a space with a girl.
Hunter comes up to me, where I was leaning against the gate to watch my man do his thing. He murmurs in my ear, "Enough."
"I'm sorry."
"No you're not," Gardner rolls his eyes. "How about this, if your boyfriend scores a home run and you don't this game, you owe me laps."
"But coach—"
"Home run!"
Stupid, talented Carson Sperodick.
Of course I just didn't hit one.
"Double." I sigh, running to second base.
I glance back into the dugout, and I see my coach. He puts a whistle up to his mouth, teeth glinting against the metal with a smug look on his face.
CHAMPIONSHIP DAY
We're all huddled around in the parking lot of the hotel, energy buzzing within the entire group, but it's deathly quiet. Carson has his headphones on, one ear out in the open so that he can hear our coach talk to us. Hunter has this chill look on his face, blowing a huge pink bubble with his gum before popping it with his sharp teeth. Vincent and Isaiah are on completely opposite sides of the huddle, Vincent with his eyes closed in meditation, and Isaiah staring off in the distance, focused.
Ryker was tilting his head from side to side, stretching, and breathing deeply with his arms crossed before dropping them to stretch out his shoulders.
The rest of the boys had their own little coping mechanisms, fidgeting, humming, looking wide eyed at our coach.
Me? I was listening to every word Coach was saying, but if anyone were to ask me what was coming out of his mouth, I wouldn't be able to tell them one thing. My earbuds were draped over my shoulders, and I was waiting patiently to be able to listen to music while we rode to the field.
There was this feeling of zen, a tranquil atmosphere, with an undercurrent of raw hunger. We were all determined to win. Everyone had their very own reasons. This was my first year playing at a championship. I had things to prove. If I don't do good this game, I'm sure Gardner is physically kicking me off the team with his semi-big shoe. And for majority of the guys in the nine, it's their last year. That is more than enough to want a win.
Their last hurrah.
My first and last with them.
We all place our hands around each other, forming a circle, listening to Gardner's double-edged encouragement. "We will win because if we don't? You're all dead. You guys had hell? Try purgatory. Team Captain?"
Carson looks up, his grey eyes piercing each and every one of us. "What he said," he looks at me, eyes blazing with hot energy. "You're dead." I swallow back a moan.
Is it bad that I almost want to see us lose so I can take the brunt of his anger?
I shake the negative thoughts out of my head. "We'll fuck 'em up, right?" Ryker sheepishly smiles.
"Like I fuck her from behind," Carson finishes, chuckling.
|||
CHAMPIONSHIP GAMES
We're number one for a reason.
Everyone was the sharpest they'd ever been, well everyone except Ryker. He's always on fire. Our passes? Unmatched. Hits? Ridiculous. It felt like a complete obliteration, and it was very unfair for the other team, but we were just so charged up. Our last game.
"Strikeout!" Ryker rips off his glove, the most handsome smirk on his face as we transition. I'm sure every girl in the stands had nothing but heart eyes for him. I wish Kennedy could see his confidence today. I'm sure she wouldn't want any more time away from him.
"Hey Gardner," Sebastian asks when he gets down the steps, "what are your plans after we win?" Our coach fixes his hat, putting it over his head backwards.
"I like positivity. I am going to get drunk as fuck and pick up college girls from here to take to the hotel," he answers cooly. I have to say my plans are completely different. As great as getting drunk sounds, I'm sure that's not on Carson's mind at all, and whatever he wants to do, I'm down. I hope it involves going to his mom's house and watching old movies while she cooks a massive amount of food.
I love that woman.
Game eight was a sweeper. 6 to 2 and there seemed to be absolutely nothing stopping us.
Until they came back swinging much harder than the game before. There were curses out of this world, and a bit of rough handling out in the field, especially where I was, closer to the diamond in center field.
"Weak bitch." I was shoved hard by someone from the other team, rolling my ankle before landing on my back, my head snapping against the ground. I felt a bit nauseous. The entire team jumped on him, and it turned into an all out brawl. This was because I had outed him before he reached second base.
There was a big break, rumors being spread from person to person about a disqualification, but it ended up just being an ejection of that guy. And Hunter, who was the first person to jump on the boy because he was closest to second base, being that he was the second base defenseman.
As much as I'm grateful for Hunter stepping in, I was angry because I could've handled it myself and he wouldn't have gotten kicked from the game. But I know that the game was tense enough, and that alone triggered such an explosive reaction from Carson's friend. I guess this makes him my friend now. Friends fight for one another.
We lost. The score was super close, we were only one point down, but it went into the books, along with the double team fight. That was on the news within an hour of it happening. My mom even called me while things were being discussed while gameplay was paused.
So there was game nine. A hot, sweaty, mucky mess. The air thicker than swampy water. The bus ride was dead silent. The dugout? Equally as dead. No one said anything the entire game, save for a lethal cussing out of someone if they did anything wrong, and Gardner's agitated huffs.
I made a home run that game, right after Carson's.
He didn't congratulate me, too busy being focused on the game. In fact, no one congratulated anyone for their great performances. These were expected. After that sucky loss yesterday, we better had been playing with everything we had.
The other team must've felt the same way. Because with every out that we got on them, they got right back on us. The home runs were neck and neck. Pitches were cutthroat. And the speed of these guys were otherworldly. Soldiers, they seemed like. We seemed like.
The ninth inning came down to one last play. Ryker and Vincent were the last to hit because they pitch, so there's not much to expect from either of them, but what they did was fascinating. Vinny hit, and Ryker ran all the way home, literally sliding, kicking up dust as he went for the best way to beat the pass that was hurled toward him.
He won it for us. The tightest game ever. 5-4.
We won our last game.
And my boyfriend did end up congratulating me on my home run.
With four orgasms.
___
:)