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Drinking a sugary alcoholic drink while dehydrated sounds like a terrible idea. As an almost registered dietician, Morgan knows it. But I’m not worried. My best friend is all talk when it comes to experiencing the typical Vegas night out. Neither of us is the clubbing or gambling type. But like me, Morgan had a serious relationship go south not too long ago. He was controlling and manipulative, and it took her three long years to realize it.
Breaking up with the guy wrecked her. Now, she’s trying to make up for all the time she feels like she lost by letting lose and “living like she’s in her early twenties” even though we’re two years away from thirty.
“Sounds good.”
I look to the field and watch the players run out for the start of the bottom of the eighth. I zero in on Corey as he takes the mound, just like I have the entire game. He swings his arms and rotates his throwing shoulder before he squares up, winds up, and throws a warm-up.
“Corey’s ass looks phenomenal in those baseball pants.”
“Morgan!”
My best friend chuckles. “What? I’m not allowed to admire his assets now? I thought we’d gotten over our ban on talking about Corey since you two started dating.”
“Shh,” I hiss.
“You’re ridiculous, Carlee. No one can hear me.”
It may be loud in the stadium, but we’re sitting right by the Lonestars’ dugout. There’s every chance we can be overheard.
“I already regret telling you,” I reply.
“No, you don’t.” Morgan throws a piece of popcorn in her mouth. “I’m your confidant. You never regret telling secrets to your confidant. But, I’ll say it again, I think it’s silly you’re keeping your relationship a secret.”
I know she does. Part of me does, too. But I repeatedly convince myself it’s for the best.
This past month has flown by with preseason game after preseason game, assisting Chris with coordinating interviews for the players, and curating the team’s social media profiles. I’ve traveled all over the state of Florida with the team and worked my tail off trying to keep up with all the social media buzz that’s circulating about us.
Everyone knew Corey joining the Lonestars would put the team at the forefront of everyone’s mind, but no one could have predicted the absolute pandemonium that would follow his impressive performances during the preseason games.
Coach Hawk never left Corey in long enough to throw a perfect game, but with the way he’s performing, there’s speculation that he would’ve pulled one off if he’d been given the chance to pitch an entire game. And right now, on opening day, with only one and a half innings to go, it looks like today might be that day.
Reports say Corey looks better than he’s ever been. Articles suggest the Loons made a mistake, accusing the organization of letting petty squabbles cost them a pitcher who’s on track to become one of the greats. While it irks me to know how fickle the public can be, I’m glad the wind is shifting in Corey’s favor. His spot on the team’s starting roster was solidified after the first week of games, but he hasn’t shied away from working hard to continue to prove himself. I’ve learned through Joshua that Corey works out with the less experienced pitchers, and he gives them pointers on their technique along with words of encouragement.
Corey might think Coach Vaughn is wrong about him having the makings of a leader, but I disagree. Everything about Corey is inspiring, and I’m not the only one who thinks so.
“Please tell me you’ve at least had sex with him,” Morgan’s tone is pleading. “It’s a crime to be dating the guy you’ve been in love with for most of your life andnotride him like a bucking bronco.”
“Jesus, Morgan,” I almost choke on a sip of water. I take another to soothe my scratchy throat. “What kind of phrase is that?”
“I read it in a book.” She shrugs. “But don’t change the subject. Have you or have you not slept with Mr. Tall and Dreamy?”
“I have not,” I admit. Corey and I have hung out most evenings. We take care not to let any of the players or staff see us leaving or returning to the hotel together, but we haven’t done more than exchange chaste kisses goodbye before we go our separate ways for the night.
At first, I was touched that he was taking my request to move slowly to heart. But as we spend more time together, my desire for the man stays at the forefront of my mind, it’s almost the only thing I can think about.
I mean, I have freaking sex dreams about him almost every night. Before we started dating, I can count the number of sex dreams I’ve had on one hand. Of course, all of them starred Corey. But I’ve never considered myself a particularly sexual person. I enjoy sex. It’s nice. But I’ve never experienced the all-encompassing desire to throw myself at a man the way I want to throw myself at Corey. I want to strip him down and admire his perfect body up close. I long to feel his calloused hands glide over my skin as he kisses my neck and thrusts into me…
“Hello? Earth to Carlee?” Morgan waves a hand in my face.
I blink to clear away the lustful thoughts, flushing crimson. “Sorry. I got distracted.”
“I’ll say.” Morgan smirks. “Can’t say I blame you. I’d be sexually frustrated too if I were in your shoes.”
The urge to tell her she’s wrong sits on the tip of my tongue, but Morgan is my best friend. She’s the only one who knows about me and Corey. If I can’t talk to her about this, who can I talk to?
The first batter approaches the plate. I watch Corey throw the first pitch. “I’m nervous,” I confess right as the batter swings and misses.
“About what?”
