Third Base (The Boys of Summer Book 1)(9)
“Thanks for bringing me here.”
In this moment, I wish I’ve known her longer than a couple of hours, or we were hammered, because I’d really like to kiss her. Instead, I say, “You’re welcome.” Except it comes out as a whisper, and suddenly the room is a sauna and she’s licking her lips and I’m licking mine. We both step together at the same time, our chests matching a rhythmic breathing pattern. Our heads tilt in opposite directions lining us up perfectly. One of us needs to close the gap and I want it to be her...there’s something sexy about a woman who makes the first move, who goes after what she wants. I want Daisy to press what I’m assuming will be the softest set of lips I’ve ever encountered against mine. I want to feel the wetness of her tongue coat my lips, asking for me to meet her half way in what’s surely going to be an explosive first kiss.
“Don’t forget to tell her about your pecker fungus, Davenport.”
We both jump back and I’m muttering ‘mother f*cker’ as she turns tomato red. If I didn’t embarrass her earlier, I have now.
“Fuck you, Kidd.” I pick up a piece of clothing and throw it at him. “What are you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same thing?” he waggles his eyebrows and looks at Daisy who has her eyes focused on the ground.
“We were just leaving.” I don’t want to get into why I’m back here because I’ll never hear the end of it. I grab my jacket and sweatshirt, and motion for Daisy to follow me out. She’s right on my heels, bumping into me when I stop to turn around.
I catch her in my arms as she falls into my chest, using the situation to my advantage so I can feel her against me. It’s a dirty trick, but I never said I played clean. She’s the first one to pull away, adjusting her hat as she does.
“Here,” I say, handing her my sweatshirt. “I’ve kept you out late and I don’t want you to freeze because of me.” It’s going to be huge on her, but seeing her wearing something with my name on it will be worth it.
Daisy takes off her hat and tries to hide her messy hair. “It’s okay. My hair looks crazy when I take my hat off.”
She squints and sort of shakes her head. I guess I wasn’t supposed to say anything about how her hair looks. How the hell am I supposed to know that? My mother raised me to be honest and say what’s on my mind. I guess this is one of those times when media training will come in handy.
As soon as she pulls my sweatshirt over her head, I’m eyeing her backside. I’m not looking at her ass, but at my name and number spread across her back. There’s no bigger rush for an athlete than seeing your name on the back of someone you like. This is a player issued sweatshirt and not available for our fans to buy. The minute she walks out of here people are going to assume she’s my girlfriend. Panic should set in. My palms should be itching and my heart racing at the thought of being labeled with a girlfriend, except none of those things happen.
Instead, I picture her in my jersey and nothing else, with her long hair free from any binding ties and her bare feet walking across my hardwood floors. The warmth of the afternoon sun beams through my window as she kneels on my black leather couch next to me. She’s the only woman I can imagine in my place and while that thought should scare the shit out of me, it doesn’t.
There’s a devil sitting on my shoulder whispering into my ear. He’s telling me that I need to do everything in my power to get Daisy back to my place. The angel on the other side is telling me to walk her home, or as far as she’ll let me, and get her number. The devil is telling me to bang the shit out of her and I like that idea, except I have a feeling that once I have a taste, I’m going to be a greedy bastard and want more. And something tells me that waiting for her might be worth it.
“You look really sex… cute in my sweatshirt.” I pull on the side a little; it’s bulky and I don’t even come close to touching her, but it makes me feel connected. Her eyes go from me to the shirt and back to me. The black fabric against her blonde hair and green eyes makes her pale skin stand out.
“I really should go.”
I nod, agreeing with her even though I don’t want this night to be over. I wish tomorrow were an off day; we could spend all night talking, or just keeping each other company. Taking her hand in mine, I realize how small hers is in comparison to mine. I hold them up together, examining them, before I drop our arms to our sides and start down the hall. Walking with her like this feels as natural as baseball does – only baseball doesn’t make me horny and she’s definitely causing a reaction in my nether region.
Well… well… well… it seems Mr. Davenport has found himself a “friend”. There will be more on that in a minute.
Today’s loss hurt, especially after Davenport set a two-run shot into the bleachers. Renegade fans thought for sure that after Saturday’s loss, we wouldn’t see our guys drop back-to-back L’s.
The Orioles, on the other hand, shelled starting pitcher, Max Tadashi, bringing in early relief, who didn’t fare much better.
Steve Bainbridge looks like the rumors of his impending retirement or trade are starting to get to him as he looked stiff and out of sorts, committing two errors on the night.
The Renegades are home Monday night with Hank Sinclair taking the mound. The fans hope to see a better showing than the previous night.