Moonshot(24)

43



When I woke up, the room was dark. I rolled over and reached for him, my hands finding nothing, the bed empty. I sat up far enough to see the clock. 1:02. When I’d fallen asleep, I had been on my side, he on his, my body under the blankets because he’d said he couldn’t take the temptation, his body on top, six feet of gorgeous stretched out, his shoes kicked off.

“Tell me about Ty Rollins,” he said, his gaze on me, his hand gentle as it tucked a bit of hair behind my ear.

“Not much to tell. My mom died when I was seven. I joined Dad on the road. Been a clubhouse brat ever since.” I smiled, and his eyes softened, dropping to my mouth.

“Tell me about your mom.”

My smile faltered. “I don’t remember a lot.”

“Was she a baseball fan?”

I shook my head. “God no. I remember them fighting. That was really all I knew about my dad. That he’d be gone for long stretches of time, then he’d show up and they’d fight. About money, about his job…” I winced at the memory. “I was terrified when he picked me up and took me on the road.”

He rolled onto his back and looked at the ceiling. “There was no one else you could have stayed with? Grandparents or an aunt?”

“Sure.” I snorted. “But he was stubborn. And for whatever reason, he wanted me with him. I hated him for it at first. I wanted to be home, with my friends, back in Pittsburgh.”

“Not on the road with a bunch of old men?” He smirked.

“Exactly.” I mimicked his pose, rolling onto my back, his body scooting closer, his arm lifting around me, and I rested comfortably in the crook of his arm. I’d never been in that place before, my chest rising and falling next to another, my face close enough to turn my head and kiss his neck. “But … you know … it was the best thing to ever happen to me. Not my mom dying, but coming on the road with him. Once I got over it all—the guys, the team—they became my family.” I curved a little into him, my hand resting on his chest. “And I wouldn’t change anything about it now.”

“Anything?” His voice held a bit of hope, and my heart had lifted despite myself.

“Maybe I’d change one thing,” I conceded, thinking of all of the places this conversation could go. A relationship talk? Was this what we were about to have? Or was it still too early for that? In baseball, I knew everything. With relationships, I knew nothing.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

I didn’t give him anything more, was too shy to put myself out there, and our conversation moved to baseball’s greats, then movies, then spring training and our favorite stadiums. We’d talked until we were hoarse, then we didn’t say anything for a while. At some point, the room had blurred, my eyelids too heavy. At some point, he’d left, turning out my light and going back to his room. Room 724. He’d thrown that out at some point, lifting his eyebrows suggestively, my eyes rolling in response.

Room 724. I moved out of the bed and brushed my teeth. Staring into the mirror, my hair was loose and wild, my lips bruised from his kisses, the faint burn of a hickey on my neck. I pulled my hair back and stared at it in the mirror, fascinated. A hickey. I’d never had one before. I let my hair fall back into place and examined my reflection, a stranger’s reflection, that of a wild woman.

Room 724. I rinsed my mouth and flossed. Walked back into the bedroom and found my phone. Plugged it in and checked my texts. Three from Tobey, one from Dad. Nothing from Chase. I crawled into bed and stared at the ceiling.

Room 724.

My body knew before my mind. My feet moved quickly when I finally stood, my room key pocketed, pajama pants pulled on underneath my jersey. I opened the door and was careful in my shut, glancing toward Dad’s room, the door closed without incident, then I was headed down the hall, with no clear game plan in mind.

I was such a stupid girl. Running to a man’s room in the middle of the night. A man who I thought I shared something with. A man who had left my bed for something a little more mutually beneficial. I realized my mistake as soon as she swung open the door, her hand to her nose, her eyes swinging a little before they landed on me. Her boobs had grown since the game, pushed huge and out of a corset top, a beer and cash in one hand, her smile wide, Chase seen dim in the background, his back to me, a second girl hanging on him, the glimpse of her the last thing I saw before I turned, muttering wrong room, and ran down the hall, tears blurring my vision, to the safety of my room.

When I rounded the curve, almost there, I was stopped, strong hands grabbing me, my name said as I looked up through the sting of tears and into a familiar face.





44



“Ty.”

It was Tobey, and I almost pushed away, my mind conflicted, escape my primary goal. What if Chase came after me? What if Tobey saw? What would he say? What would I say? Stupid, stupid, stupid. A shot of anger coursed through me, and I straightened, finding my footing, my hand wiping at my face.

“Are you okay?” His face, so concerned, so not Chase. From down the hall, there was the sound of a door banging against something, and my urgency increased.

“I’m fine. Where’s your room?”

“Right here.” He held up a key, a beer in his grip, and I grabbed it, tilting it to my lips, the liquid cold and sour against my freshly-brushed teeth.