Player Loves Curves Box Set #4-6 by Hope Ford
Naomi
I could stand hereand keep looking at him all night. Even though he didn’t actually say the words, I still feel lied to. I know how easy it could be for me to just forgive him. He’s a sexy man with smooth words. He knows what he’s doing. I could fall under his spell easily. But I don’t want to be that way. I’m not that woman. My mom and her marriages tell me that I don’t want to be that woman.
So I do the only thing I can. I turn away from him and walk away. The pier is long and I almost stop at least five times to turn around and change my mind. But I don’t. I force myself to keep going. I can feel his hard gaze on me, but luckily he doesn’t chase after me because I don’t think I would have the will to keep going if he did.
Later that night, all I can do is think about my afternoon with Neil. Yes, we had a good time together out on his boat. Yes, he was a perfect gentleman. Yes, he’s protective and all alpha on me. But he also lied to me. Or he didn’t tell me the truth anyway.
My phone starts to ring and I pick it up. The caller id is an unknown number and I know it’s him. I had put my number into his phone. I decline the call and no sooner do I set it down than it starts to ring again. I ignore the way my stomach flutters with excitement, knowing it’s him. Hitting decline, I silence it and lie back on my couch.
I almost call Jackie. She’s the closest friend I have, but I remember that she had told me the Mavericks are not playing tonight and she had a special date night with Reagan. Man, she got a good one. Reagan is crazy about her and I’ve never seen her like this. He’s a baseball player, and women are goo goo crazy for him, but he doesn’t even care. He only has eyes for Jackie. I have to admit that a part of me is jealous. I would love to have what they have.
I run my hand through my hair and undo the bun, letting my hair fall down around my shoulders. I can’t stop thinking about Neil, if that’s even his real name. He said it was, but should I believe him?
I turn to my side and pull my legs up to my stomach. I see my phone light up on the table, but I don’t even reach for it. It’s better this way. I may have had a good time with him today, but it doesn’t matter. No matter what could come of us, nothing good starts with lying.
* * *
Neil
I barely sleptlast night thinking of Naomi. She wouldn’t answer my calls. I can’t say I blame her. I fucked up yesterday, pretty bad. If I had to do it all again, I would have been honest and upfront with her. But no, I kept it all to myself. Now I’m wondering if her date that never showed up has made a move on her. Could my actions have forced her into the arms of another man? Fuck!
“Fox! Get your shit together, man. We have a game with the Rangers this week and right now you can’t even catch a ball.”
As the starting catcher for the Mavericks, I know I should have my head into practice. But I just can’t get my mind off Naomi. I’ve been catching bull pens for over an hour now and I finally hold my hand up to let Jasper, the pitcher, know I’m done.
The coach storms over to me. I know he could rip my ass right now and I probably deserve it. But probably the only thing saving me is the fact that I never slouch off. I’m always the first to practice and the last to leave. I put one hundred percent into this team and Coach knows it. His face is red and I can tell he’s wanting to yell at me, but instead, he just shakes his head. “Hit the showers, Fox.”
Dustin, the right fielder, comes running up to me. “You all right, man?”
“I’m going to be,” I tell him with determination. He probably thinks I’m having shoulder pain, which I am. But today’s pain is about something else, and I’m determined to make it right.
I release a breath and nod at him before turning away and jogging to the locker room. One of the trainers follows me. “That shoulder’s tight. Let’s work it out.”
I roll my arm forward, knowing he’s right. I can feel the pain in my shoulder, even though it’s a dull pain and bearable. But for how much I throw, I know I need it worked on. I follow him into the room, pull my shirt off and lie on the table. He lays a warming mat against my shoulder and then starts to write something on his clipboard. Without looking up, he says, “You sucked it up in practice today. What’s up?”
I throw my other arm over my head and cover my eyes, blocking the glaring light overhead. “I’m distracted,” I admit.
He snorts. “No shit, Sherlock. Do you want to talk about it?”
“You a shrink now too?” I deadpan.
He adjusts the mat on my arm. “Yes, actually a shrink, a trainer, a therapist… should I go on?”
I just shake my head. “No, man, there’s a woman. I fucked up and now she won’t answer my calls. I’ve called her at least a dozen times in the last day.”
He then takes the mat off my shoulder and I hear him squirt some kind of lotion on his hands. He starts working the muscles and the joints of my shoulders. “Maybe you should text her. Women seem to respond better to texts than calls, especially if you’re in the doghouse. Tell her what you want to say by text.”
I ponder over his words and I have to admit I’m a little surprised I hadn’t thought of that. For the next hour, he works on my arm, massaging it, and whatever the hell else he does that makes it feel brand new until the next day. Man, my body’s getting too old for this. It’s not what it used to be. Between my shoulder and my hips from all the squatting, baseball is wreaking havoc on my body.
When he’s done, I make sure to thank him before I go and hit the showers. The whole time I’m thinking about what I’m going to text her. I feel like some teenage boy, but I don’t really care. The woman is under my skin and I can’t forget about her. Remembering her in her one-piece black bathing suit, I can feel my loins tighten. She may have thought it was a safe choice, but man, all it did was make me even hotter for her, wanting to peel it off her and see her in all her glory.
As soon as I feel my cock start to lengthen, I try to change the pattern of my thoughts, thankful that the rest of the team is still practicing. I shower off the rest of the day’s sweat and grime before getting dressed in the locker room. I grab my bag, go out to my car, and I’m no sooner seated before I pull my phone out. Clicking on her name, I start the text.
