Player Loves Curves Box Set #1-3 by Hope Ford
Holly
The next morning,I feel that I can barely move. Shawn kept me up half the night. We no sooner finished making love and he was ready to go again. I don’t know what got into him, but I’m not complaining. Last night was different than any night before. He held me differently and when he told me I was his, it took everything in my power not to tell him I love him.
When I roll over, he’s sitting on the edge of the bed watching me. I rub at my eyes and stretch before I lean up on my elbows. “You didn’t get any sleep and the big game is today,”
I say to him. It’s on the tip of my tongue to wish him happy birthday but I don’t because I don’t want to have to explain how I knew it was his birthday today.
He reaches out and rubs his knuckles along my cheek and I curl into him. He asks me huskily, “You still coming today?”
I reach up and grab his hand that is caressing my face. “As if I would miss it. Plus, I’ll be there early for your batting practice. Remember, I talked to the manager about taking some photos for the program book.”
He nods his head but doesn’t seem too happy about it. When we talked about it the other day, he thought it was a great idea. I don’t know what could have happened to change his mind, but I’m thinking maybe it’s just stress from the game today.
He leans over and kisses me before telling me goodbye. When he gets to the door of the bedroom, he turns and looks at me. I can tell there’s something on his mind, but he doesn’t say anything to me. He just smiles and then walks out the door.
As soon as I hear the front door shut, I lean back on the bed. I’ve heard some comments around the clubhouse that I’m Shawn’s young Twinkie and this won’t last. The first time I heard it, I physically got ill. I almost questioned him about it a time or two, but I haven’t because I don’t know if I want to hear the truth. Anything I’ve seen from him doesn’t seem like he’s a player. I’m hoping for my heart’s sake that it’s true.
I get out of bed and start gathering my things. I want to look good for Shawn tonight and make him proud when he’s standing next to me at the surprise birthday party. I plan on getting my nails done and then going home to get ready for the batting practice and then the game. I found the perfect red and white sundress the other day and it will look perfect as I’m cheering on Shawn and the Mavericks tonight.
* * *
Shawn
“What’s your problem, Cannon?”the coach yells across the field.
“Sorry, Coach.” I take my hat off and rub at the sweat on my forehead. It’s definitely been an off day for me today. I’m going on hardly any sleep but it’s no one’s fault but my own. I was like a man possessed last night and I couldn’t stop myself from having Holly each of the three times I took her last night.
It was on the tip of my tongue to tell her what she means to me, but I didn’t. Instead I claimed her, told her she was mine like I’m some kind of caveman. She hasn’t asked anything of me. She hasn’t even wanted to talk about where this is going or what we are. I thought women always wanted to talk about that shit. Why doesn’t she? Maybe she really does think this is only a temporary thing and that thought about guts me.
It’s not helping matters that Carter has made a point to stay around me today. He has already asked me where Holly is and I told him to mind his own fucking business. I’m on edge and he’s lucky I haven’t snapped him or his lucky bat in half. Of course, I don’t know how lucky the bat actually is. He’s still yet to hit a ball with it.
When Holly shows up, I can’t take my eyes off her. Besides a quick wave my way, she starts off taking pictures in the bull pen. I try to concentrate on what I’m doing, but the dress she has on, all I can do is stare at her legs. She’s told me she hates them, they’re too big, but I think they’re perfect. I think everything about her curvy body is perfect.
Finally, when she starts to walk across the field, I’m taking a few practice swings because I’m up next to hit. Before she reaches me, though, Carter walks out of the dugout and stops her. I grip my bat in both hands, struggling not to go over there and beat him with it.
Reagan, our left fielder, comes up to me. “C’mon, Shawn. You’re up.”
“Go in front of me,” I grunt at him. I can’t take my eyes off Carter and Holly. He looks as if he’s leaning in to whisper to her and I start to walk over there.
Reagan steps in front of me. “Think about it, man. She’s not the type to fall for Carter’s shit. We got a game to win today. Get your head right.”
I know he’s right. I take a deep breath, pat him on the back and take my place in the cage. I try to put Holly out of my head, but I can’t. My swings suck so bad that finally Coach tells me to take a break after he rips into my ass.
I back out of the cage and Holly’s standing off to the side, looking at me with worry on her face. I don’t hesitate. I walk over to her, knowing that I’m wearing my heart on my sleeve. I know it. My whole fucking team knows it.
As soon as I reach her, she asks me, “Do you think we could go out after the game tonight?”
Suspicious, I look her in the face. I’m not sure where this came from. I thought she was happy going home, spending time together. Is this where our age difference starts to show? Has she been playing me all this time and she’d rather go out than be home with me?
“What did Carter say to you?”
