The Trade(86)

“Have at it,” I say on a smile.

She reads it out loud. “Hey beautiful, thinking about you today. Sorry I had to cancel our date. I’ll call you later. Your man, Cory.” Monica holds the card to her chest and sighs. “God, he’s amazing.”

I smile to myself, thinking about the last week we’ve had together. “He really is.”

We went out two other times, both ending in passionate make-out sessions, leaving us more than frustrated, to the point that we sexted each other the other night. There were no pictures, just undiluted, dirty, naughty words. And I’ll tell you this, baseball isn’t the only thing Cory Potter is really good at. Want to read some really dirty but sexy stuff? Try sexting him. He’ll have you getting off in no time.

“Why did he have to cancel your date?”

“Last-minute interview with ESPN in New York about the upcoming season and what Chicago should expect from the team.”

“Yikes, were any other players involved in that conversation?”

“I think Maddox Paige was and some other guy, but yeah, Cory was telling me the fans weren’t happy with him being picked to be interviewed.”

“What do you mean? How did they even know?”

“Maddox tweeted about the interview. Fans were going off about how Cory doesn’t deserve to be a Rebel, how he doesn’t represent the right team, all that crap. The fans created a hashtag ‘not my rebel’ and it’s starting to trend.”

“Shit, are you serious?”

“Yeah.” I bite my bottom lip, remembering the deflated tone in Cory’s voice when he was talking to me about it. “They report to spring training soon and I’m hoping that once they see Cory start practicing again, they’ll give him a break.”

“I don’t get it,” Monica says, taking a seat at my kitchen bar. “If you’re a fan of the team, why are you going to boo your own player?”

“Yeah, I don’t get that either but then again, I’ve been a Bobbies fan my whole life; it’s a different atmosphere over there. The only time they boo a player is if they’re caught doing something illegal like steroids or something. They’re so clean-cut.”

“Poor Cory. Hopefully the interview helps though.”

“Yeah, I hope so.” I take a sip of my water and set my cup back on the counter. “From what Cory was saying, the front office is trying to help him out with the fans since they’re who acquired him. That’s why they picked him to do the interview, but they didn’t think it was going to backlash this bad.”

“Giant organizations like the Rebels have big publicity teams, they’ll figure something out for the guy. I mean, he’s stuck there, so the fans better get used to him.”

“Exactly.” Growing frustrated with the situation, I say, “Plus, he’s really fucking good. Fans need to relax and let him show them what he’s got, you know?”

“He will. Don’t worry.” Monica grows a giant smile and says, “Tell me about the sex.”

“There’s nothing to say.”

“Oh please, you don’t date a monster like Cory Potter and have nothing to say when it comes to getting nasty.”

“Can you not say getting nasty, please? Seriously, Monica.” I drag my finger over the smooth countertop. “We haven’t had sex yet.”

“What?” Monica says through clenched teeth, as if she’s the one who’s mad that her man is holding out, which I know he’s not because the two of them are rabid beasts, always have been. “What do you mean you haven’t had sex yet, what is wrong with you?”

“It’s not me, it’s him. He wants to take things slow and develop a strong foundation with me.”

“You can do that while banging. Ugh, what a stupid rule.” Monica folds her arms across her chest. “Please tell me you at least have fooled around.”

“Only when we were in St. Croix. Ever since we’ve been back, not so much. Just some heavy make-out sessions in his car when he drops me back home from a date.” I bite my bottom lip and say, “After our first date, he started kissing me and God, Monica, it was . . . it felt like I finally found where I was supposed to be, in this man’s arms.”

“Ahhh.” She clutches her chest. “That’s so sweet . . . but did he touch your nipple?”

Of course that’s what she’s concerned about.

I nod.

“Really?” she asks, sitting taller in her chair. “Under or over bra.”

“Over.”

She clutches her breasts. “God, why is that hotter sometimes? It’s like the guy can make them that hard that it almost feels like there’s no clothes between persistent thumbs and nipples.” That’s exactly how it feels with Cory. “Did you touch him?”

“I mean . . . at first I was really nervous and just kept things north of town, if you know what I mean but the more he played with my nipple, the more I wanted to feel him.” My eyes widen in a frantic mess when I lean over and whisper, “Monica . . . he’s huge.”

She slaps the kitchen counter and says, “I knew he would be. Damn it, I knew he would be. Tell me everything.”

“Not much to say. I haven’t touched it without a barrier of clothing, but from what I could tell, it’s really freaking long and wide. Like . . . I’m kind of nervous.”