Game Changer, page 19
"He shouldn’t be around her. He’s no good for her." Jilly goes on, saying more than I’ve ever heard him speak before.
I step onto the infield grass and turn away, gripping my bat for all it’s worth. I don’t need Jilly fighting my battles for me, but it’s nice to know that Brooks’s coldness toward me hasn’t gone unnoticed. For the first time, I don’t feel so alone in my misery.
"Sasha, do you have a thing for Jilly? If so, tell me now," Tony demands.
I whirl around, ready to vehemently deny it. I’m so sick of everyone thinking I’m the team slut. But I hesitate when I glance over at Jilly and see the hopeful look on his face. My heart contracts. I don’t like hurting anyone, but I’m not going to lie just to get back at Brooks. I wouldn’t do that to Jilly.
"No, sir," I say softly, trying not to notice when Jilly’s shoulders slump at my admission.
"All right, Jilly. You heard the lady. She’s not into you. So just let these two sort it out amongst themselves, and don’t get involved. Stay out of it. You hear me?" Tony places his hands on his hips, waiting for Jilly to respond.
"Yeah, I hear you," Jilly replies sullenly, glaring at Brooks.
"Now enough of these shenanigans. Let this girl get some hacks in." Tony bends down behind Brooks, resting his hand on his back.
I step in and Brooks’s eyes zero in on me. I can see that brilliant shade of blue behind the grated wire of the mask, and I’m flustered at how easily he’s able to take my breath away. He winks at me, and I swear the corner of his mouth turns up, but I’m not sure.
Whatever. I have to concentrate on hitting a ninety-seven-mile-per-hour fastball. I can’t think about how cute his butt looks crouched down in that position. With the frame of mind Jilly is in, he’s bound to be a little off, and I don’t feel like getting hit with a ball that goes faster than my car.
***
I’m in a fitful kind of sleep, one arm tossed over my face, one leg hanging off the bed, when I hear a rapping at my door.
My heart starts to pound. What if it’s some demented stalker fan? I pull the covers up to my chin, determined to wait it out. But when it comes again, my curiosity gets the better of me and I inch slowly off the bed. Going stealthily step by step, I take a deep breath and look through the peephole.
I gasp when I see Brooks standing there.
My heart goes from a dull pounding to full-on somersault mode. I run my hands through my hair. I must look a wreck. But why should I care? He chatted with Tony all the way back to the hotel while Jilly and I sat quietly in the back of the shuttle van. Yeah, once we arrived, Brooks offered me his hand to help me down, but I refused it, striding past him and through the revolving door.
And now he’s pacing outside my room in the middle of the night.
He knocks again, and I unfasten the chain and twist the lock before I change my mind. His feet are bare, and he’s wearing nothing but a faded Pac Man shirt and his boxers. He shouldn’t be out here looking like he just rolled out of bed, but he is.
The way his eyes are roaming across my body makes me conscious of the fact that I’m only wearing a pair of itty-bitty shorts and a flimsy tank. I cross my ankles and fold my arms around myself in an attempt to bolster my courage.
"Don’t," he whispers, stepping across the threshold. His hands encircle my wrists, gently pulling them away from my body. "You’re too beautiful to cover yourself up." He presses the door closed with the back of his foot, extinguishing whatever light was streaming in from the hallway.
Now we’re alone together in the darkness of my room, and I’m kind of glad he can’t read my face. I’m too conflicted. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know why he’s here. But if I’m being honest, I’m glad that he is. He’s finally making the effort to reach out to me instead of leaving me in the barren wasteland I’ve been living in. Oh, how I’ve missed basking in the warmth of his smile.
"What are you doing here?" I ask, feeling the heat of his body against mine.
"Apologizin’," he says in that sexy twang of his, drawing out every syllable.
"Sandy, this isn’t going to work if you keep doing this, if you keep pulling away from me," I whisper, resisting the urge to touch him. "You’ve done this to me twice now, and I’d be a fool to ignore the pattern that’s forming here. You have the power to turn my world completely upside down and it scares the hell out of me. I remember what it felt like to lose you. You’ve already walked out of my life once before, and I won’t go through that again. Do you know how hard it was for me to get over you? I don’t think I ever did."
"I’m sorry, Sasha. I just got all mixed up inside," he admits, reaching out and taking my hand. "I wasn’t sure how this was all gonna play out, having you on the team and all. It’s not what I’m used to. I’m usually a pretty straightforward guy. I work hard. I’m a team player. I’ll do whatever it takes to succeed. So I had some misgivings when you told me what you wanted to do. I know the culture. I was aware of the type of environment you were throwing yourself into. I didn’t want anyone disrespectin’ you, stompin’ all over your dignity."
"Then why didn’t you speak up? Why didn’t you defend me?" I question him, trying to pull my hand away, but his grip is too strong.
"I know it sounds pathetic, but it wouldn’t have done any good," he exhales, the rush of breath tickling my face. "The guys were already singling me out, and I didn’t wanna be the source of any more friction on the team. They talk like that all the time. I’ve heard them make the same kind of remarks about a lot of the other guys’ wives and girlfriends, but it never gets out of hand. We all take our turn in the hot seat. No one’s immune, no matter who you are."
"And that’s supposed to make it all right? Are you seriously sticking up for being a part of some misogynistic boys’ club? That the esteemed New York Kings are nothing more than a lame-ass frat?" This time, I’m able to free my hand before recrossing my arms over my chest.
"That’s exactly what I’m saying," he responds, his voice growing deeper. "You breached one of the last remaining stalwarts of male pride. You had to have known there’d be repercussions. Change in a place with as much tradition as Kings Stadium is gonna take time. You can’t expect to shake things up overnight. The world these guys live in doesn’t move that fast."
"Well, it should," I reply stubbornly, jutting out my hip. "But that’s not even what I’m mad about. I’m more upset that you chose to distance yourself from me because you thought I was preventing you from doing your job, like I was some kind of distraction you had to get rid of. That’s bullshit and you know it. Our play on the field has been nothing short of spectacular. There was no reason for you to turn your back on me like that. You’re just too much of a coward to think you could handle both me and the job."
"You’re right," he agrees, taking a step forward and backing me up against the side of the bed. "I am a coward. I’ve always been a coward. All my life, I’ve let my dad browbeat me into submission. Even when he’s miles away, he’s able to get inside my head and influence my decisions. I’ve always sought his approval without ever getting it. There’s something missing inside me, Sasha. I know that. But when I’m with you, I don’t feel it. You fill me up, make me feel like I’m not lacking anything. You make me feel like I’m finally good enough, like I’m able to stand on my own two feet and be the man you need me to be. You get me, Sasha, the way no one else does, and I’m sorry if I let you down. I know I’ll never be good enough for you. All I can do is keep trying because I’m not letting you go. I’m never letting you go."
He leans in to kiss me, but I dodge his lips, gently running my hands down his chest as I lower myself onto the bed. He just stands in front of me, stung by my rejection, like he doesn’t know what to do next.
"I just can’t," I say softly, the fight going out of my body. "I’m glad you’re here, and I’m glad we’re talking, but if you knocked on my door to finish what we started down in Texas, it’s not going to happen. Not tonight, anyway."
"Sasha…I know… I wasn’t…" he stutters, shifting nervously from foot to foot.
"Sit by me," I urge, patting the bed, the illuminated numbers of the bedside clock briefly giving me a glimpse of his face as he bends down to join me. He looks so defeated, his confidence shattered. It hurts my heart to see him this way.
He’s careful not to let our legs bump together as he shifts forward, clasping his hands between his knees and hanging his head. "I just keep on screwing this up, don’t I?" he asks, keeping his eyes fixed to the floor.
"Well, it’s not like we have a template to follow when it comes to our particular situation." I rub my hands up and down my legs to shake off the sudden tension. "Babe Ruth didn’t have to worry about dating one of his teammates."
I expect Brooks to chuckle, but he doesn’t. He seems lost in thought, like our future is hanging in the balance and all I’m able to do is crack some really dumb jokes. He probably thinks I’m not taking any of this seriously, but I am. I just need to make him smile first.
"Sandy, I know you’re a quiet guy. You don’t seek the limelight. Even though you do what you do, you’re content to go about your business and not draw any attention to yourself, and I admire that so much about you." My spirits rise when he lifts his head to look at me, so I rush on. "I remember laughing when you called being the shortstop of the Kings a job. But after playing beside you day after day, I realize what an incredible work ethic you have. You never slack off. You’re always driven to be the best you can be, giving a hundred percent to whatever you put your mind to, and the last thing I’d ever want to do is get in the way of that."
"But I should be able to balance the two," he says, a trace of sadness evident in his tone. "Other guys have relationships, and they don’t fall apart on the field."
"You’re not falling apart either," I protest, placing a hand on his shoulder.
"But I’m barely holding it together," he admits. "If you could only see inside my head, you’d run away screaming."
"See, that’s the thing," I respond, turning him toward me. "You’re thinking way too much. Just be in the moment."
"I don’t know how," he mutters as I reach up to stroke his cheek.
"Then we’ll learn together." I feel my heart swell when he closes his eyes and leans into my hand. "If the guys say offensive stuff about me and you don’t want to start World War III because we have a World Series to win, let them. You’re the only one who’ll ever step foot inside my bed, so you have nothing to worry about."
He opens his eyes at that, tilting his head to kiss the inside of my palm, and I feel it all the way down to my toes.
I slide my legs underneath me. "I understand we have to pick our battles and we’re not going to win them all, but we have to stick together. You know I’m only doing this for Kyle. I have no plans of staying on the team and making your life miserable for the next fifteen years."
"You could never make me miserable," he whispers, touching my face with his fingertips. "I only want what’s best for you. I know you’re going through so much, and all I’m doing is giving you a hard time when all I wanna do is protect you—from the guys, from anyone who means you harm. I know I’ve let you down, but I swear I’ll keep trying until I get it right. If you’ll let me."
"I’m not going anywhere," I proclaim, getting to my knees, sliding my arms around his neck, and kissing him softly on the lips. "And I don’t want you going anywhere either. Will you stay with me tonight and just hold me?"
He gazes into my eyes, his thumbs tracing patterns along the sides of my hips as he decides. He knows that it’s dangerous if he gets caught. Terry will have his head.
"Please," I murmur. "There’s no way I’ll be able to fall asleep without feeling you next to me."
At that he breaks into that smile that I love. "Why do you think I was prowling around outside your door? The only place I can find any rest is in your arms."
He pulls me against him, laying both of our heads on the pillow before tossing the covers over us. He presses my back firmly against his chest, nestling me in his big, strong arms. I sigh contentedly when he slides his leg through mine, hooking our ankles together.
I don’t toss. I don’t turn. I don’t move. I just drift off, finally reaching the place I’ve always wanted to be—in bed with Brooks.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Brooks
I wake up to a soft snoring in my ear.
At first, I think I’m back home with my hound dog, Skeeter, curled up beside me. It’s not until a pair of lips tickle my earlobe that I find the motivation to open my eyes.
I don’t know how we ended up in this position, but Sasha is draped across my chest, flush on top of my body, her head resting in the crook of my neck. She’s continues to nibble my earlobe in her sleep, unaware of how aroused I am beneath her. I can’t help but squirm when she starts to moan a little in the midst of a pretty intense dream.
It’s hard for me to decide what’s hotter, watching Sasha in the throes of a sex dream or hearing her say my name when she starts moving against me, clutching my shirt. I take a deep breath, trying to get myself under control as she rises and falls with the up-and-down motion of my ribs. She shifts, her knee slides between my legs, and it feels like I just got the wind knocked out of me even though I’m already flat on my back.
I do everything I can to keep my hands at my sides as the silken ends of her hair dance across my knuckles. My heart begins to race when she starts to climb my body even higher, not stopping until her legs are straddling my waist. I can’t believe she’s still asleep, but she is, and I don’t know if I want her to wake up or not. I’m enjoying the exquisite torture she’s subjecting me to. It seems that, no matter what happens between us, we always end up back at this point—going a little too far, but not all the way.
I usually sleep in the buff, and if we were in my room instead of hers, I don’t think I’d be able to restrain myself the way I am now. I groan when her lips travel farther down, sucking and licking along my jawline until they reach my chin. She’s so close now. There’s no way I’m not going to take advantage of this. I lift my head off the pillow, tilting it ever so slightly as I capture her lips with my own. I kiss her awake as her eyes lazily flutter open without breaking the kiss. She’s in that half-conscious state between sleeping and waking, not sure if she’s still inside her dream or not.
I can no longer contain my hands, so I spread them wide across her backside, pressing her more firmly against me. Her eyes widen when she realizes that this is real and she’s not imagining it. I roll my hips underneath her, more than strong enough to lift her body while it’s on top of mine, her tiny frame certainly not enough to pin me down.
I know the moment she becomes aware of my aching, throbbing need for her when her knees involuntarily clench against my hips. She draws away from my lips, clearly taken by surprise that I’m more than ready for her. I just don’t know if she’s ready for me. I circle my hips again, making her lower half rub against me, and I watch her eyes. She remains motionless, not reciprocating my movements, but she doesn’t slide off of me either.
"Sandy…" she whispers, leaving things as open-ended as can be.
There’s no mistaking the yearning and desire in her voice, but I can’t ignore the note of imminent self-denial mixed in there too. Just hearing her say my name like that is driving me crazy. Even more so because it’s her special, private name for me, the one no one else uses but her. Only Sasha calls me Sandy. Only her. It makes me want to keep grinding beneath her until she begs me to stop.
"Is this what you want, baby?" I ask, my voice dropping an octave lower as she starts to rock with me.
"Uh huh," she pants when I allow my fingers to stray to an area I’ve only ever dreamed about touching before, getting excited when I feel that she’s as ready for this as I am.
"Just let me get a condom out of my—" But I stop short when I realize that I don’t have my wallet. I came to her door last night in nothing but my underwear. "Fuck," I groan, running my hands up the length of her body, and she sighs in disappointment.
Knowing that this isn’t going to happen—again—she dutifully rolls off of me, trying to catch her breath. She’s primed and ready to go. Hell, she got my engine going from zero to sixty in her sleep. I hate the fact that I was most likely a better lover in her dream. It’s killing me to leave the two of us so unsatisfied.
As if reading my mind, she says, "We can do other…things," making it decidedly clear what she’s implying.
I know it sounds crazy, but I don’t want to. Not that it wouldn’t be great, it’d be mind blowing, earth shattering—but I don’t want to go there until I’m able to do everything I want to her. I don’t want the first time she comes apart in my arms to be when I can’t bury myself inside her and follow her there. I want us to go there together, as one. I’m willing to wait and deny myself the pleasure she’s offering me now as her hand takes a firm hold of me.
"Not yet," I manage to get out as I arch my back against the mattress. She grips me harder, her face falling. "But we will. I swear to you we will."
"You keep making me these promises." She raises her eyes to mine, giving me a sharp tug before moving her hand in an up-and-down rhythm. "But you never deliver."
I reach down and pry her fingers off of me one by one. "I just wanna do it right." She got me to the point where I’m sticking straight up inside my boxers, hoisting the fabric taut. "I’m a country boy, remember? I intend to romance you with rose petals and candlelight—the whole nine yards."
"But what if I don’t want all that," she murmurs, tracing a finger down the protrusion in my shorts. "What if I just want you?"
She could take me right now if she wanted to. There’s no way I’d be able to resist her. The feel of her hand on me is intoxicating. It wouldn’t take much.
I press my heels into the soft folds of the blanket and push myself up before it’s too late. She eyes me skeptically, like she can’t believe I’m turning her down.
