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We make it to the truck. Thank fuck I had the foresight to lower the tailgate. We set the beast on the pebbled driveway. I make the mistake of looking across the chaise to Cassie. She’s bent over, arms resting on the foot end. Her cleavage spills forward, and I get a clear shot from the gap in her top. I gawk like some creeper, which I know is wrong, but I can’t make myself stop. She’s too damn tempting. I remember all too well having those breasts in my hands . . . their taste on my tongue.
“You think we should lift it by its side?”
“Huh?” My attention snaps to her face. Those cute little lines crease across her forehead.
“Side by side. You think that’s the best way to lift it into the truck?” She stands up, but then she scoots to the side of the chaise and bends over. Those short shorts ride higher, giving a clear shot of side cleavage and ass cheek. Is she trying to kill me?
“Uh . . .” I try to conjure a response, but all my brainpower went to my dick. “I think you should stand by me, and we go end to end.” Truthfully, her way is probably better, but I’m not being rational right now. All I’m thinking about is having her beside me.
“Really?” She starts to walk toward me.
“Yeah, then we can scoot it back.”
“Okay, but we’ll have to be careful with the legs . . . argh,” she screams as her tiny frame stumbles.
I jump in front of her, but her momentum carries forward and knocks me backward. I pull her on top of me as we land on the chaise lounge. The neighborhood sounds fade to the background as I wrap my arms around those curves I’ve missed so much, my fingers digging into her flesh. Her sweet cucumber-melon scent encapsulates me. My teased dick springs to life, and by the small gasp leaving her mouth, she notices. Not surprised. There’s only a thin layer of cotton separating us. I need to remember where we’re at, but all I can focus on are her lust-filled eyes staring into mine and begging for a kiss. Or maybe that’s my wish.
She bats her lashes and pulls away before I can follow through. Probably a good thing since prying eyes seem to be everywhere in this town.
“Are you okay?” I ask, finally finding my voice.
She scrambles off me, a pinkish hue coating her cheeks. She averts her gaze. “Mm-hmm.”
She’s so damn cute. She belongs to me—not some douchebag.
The team goes out of town tomorrow to play against Irongate. I’ll pin Jason down and make him my best friend if I have to. I will finish that report. This is the only way to make Coach see me as more than a degenerate. I want Cassie in my arms permanently.
Chapter Seventeen
DALTON
This is a bad idea.
Spinning my ring, I settle into the barstool in disbelief that I let Jason talk me into coming here. The thank-God-the-working-day-is-done crowd settles around us. Relaxed chatter fills the silence. Hands slap on friends’ backs in cheerful greeting. Bottles clink as they hit the tabletop. All of it is in direct opposition to how I feel.
“What can I get you?” Jason asks as he signals for the bartender.
I purse my lips and study his candid features. His chin held high. His posture fully relaxed. He acts as if he couldn’t care less if we’re breaking a major team rule. I wouldn’t care either if it wasn’t for the fact of needing to improve Coach’s shitty impression of me. Coach will be livid if he finds out we’re in a bar, let alone drinking. This violates his drinking policy in ten different ways—not to mention how we’re skirting curfew. But I can’t help but question Jason’s motives. Does he really want to talk, or is he trying to get me in further trouble? Legit intentions or not, I don’t trust him.
“You look like a beer guy.”
My hesitation must’ve taken too long because Jason orders two long necks before answering. I pull out enough cash to cover both drinks plus tip. I’m not letting this fucker get the upper hand. And what did he mean bylooking like a beer guy?What the hell does a beer guy even look like?
“Loosen up, Boyd. Coach isn’t going to find out. Are youthatafraid of getting on his bad side?” Condescension lays thick in his laugh. “Hate to break it to you, but you’re already there.”
His words prick my skin like tiny patronizing daggers. I may be Coach’s least favorite player, but I don’t plan on holding that position.
“Despite what you heard, I do follow the rules.”When they’re important enough.And following rules is why we’re here—not in the bar, but together,bonding.
The team rolled into town around three. After checking into the hotel, we met at the barbecue joint across the street. Coach received a phone call and headed back to the hotel early. Before he left, he gave strict instructions to head back to the hotel after eating. I asked Jason to stay and talk. He acted as if he was going to refuse but then changed his mind. He insisted we leave the restaurant and hop over to the neighboring bar. Carter and Javier tried their best to talk me out of going, but I want this discussion over with. It shouldn’t take too long. One drink won’t hurt.
Jason eyes me for a minute before letting out a resounding sigh. “What exactly do you want to know?”
The bartender places our bottles in front of us. Jason scoots the money toward him.
“I’ll get the next round,” he says as if there will be more rounds.
I tip the bottle back and take a pull, not sure where to begin. I’m unprepared, considering I didn’t think he’d agree to talk. The fuck if I know what Coach wants me to find out. I place the bottle on the counter and state the obvious. “I suppose he wants me to know the reason you got into baseball.”
