Player Loves Curves Box Set #4-6 by Hope Ford
Naomi
The rideto my place is silent. I can tell he has something on his mind. When we get to my apartment, he helps me out of the car and up to the door. “Do you want to come in?”
He grabs on to both of my hands. “So I’d like to stay. I’d like to hold you all night and then wake up with you in my arms, but I have to fly out in the morning for work and I still need to pack.”
I lean toward him, balancing on the balls of my feet to lean up and kiss his chin. “It’s probably for the best since I’m sure we wouldn’t get any sleep if you stayed.”
He laughs, but it’s stilted.
I ask him curiously, “Is everything okay?”
He starts to speak and then stops to clear his throat. “Uh, yeah, so I don’t think I’ve mentioned what I do…”
Laughing, I tell him. “No, actually, you went out of your way to avoid the subject.”
His face turns red. “Yeah, so, I’m a ball player.”
I shrug my shoulders. “Okay. Like that’s your job? You play ball? What kind of ball?”
He smiles then. “A baseball player. I play for the Mavericks.”
I slide my hands up his chest. “Okay, it’s a small world. My friend is dating Reagan… Reagan Kline. Do you know him?”
He grabs my hands and holds on to them, pressing them into his chest. “Yeah, Reagan’s a good guy.”
I have to agree with him. I nod my head. “Yeah, Jackie seems really happy with him.” I curl my fingers into his. “So is there a reason you didn’t want me to know?”
He pulls me to him then, pressing our bodies together. His hands hold on to my lower back, holding me in place. “No, I mean not really. I never really know why a woman likes me. It was nice that you didn’t have a clue who I was, and you liked me anyway – I mean – I think you like me.”
His deep voice for the first time sounds unsure. It’s cute that he looks the way he does and is still insecure. It makes me think of the women that may have only liked him because of what he does instead of who he is. Their loss is my gain, I guess. I rest my chin on his chest and look up at him. “Oh, I like you. And it has nothing to do with baseball.”
As soon as the words leave my mouth, it’s like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders. I can feel his stance softening around me. He gathers me up in his arms and kisses me until I’m breathless. It’s like neither one of us wants the night to be over. He’s kissing my neck and murmurs into my ear, “I can probably come in for a little while.”
I unlock the door and lead him in for another night I’ll never forget.
This time is different. Special in a way that I’m not ready to process yet. And when he leaves, hours later, a sadness comes over me because I know I’m going to miss him. Sleep eludes me. It’s been a long, sleepless two nights and I have school early in the morning.
Sitting through a faculty meeting the next day, I’m missing him, but he texted me this morning before he got onto the airplane and promised he would text tonight after the game. I start to search on my phone. I’m hoping to see images of him in his uniform. I just want to see him, hoping for maybe a team picture or something. But the images that come up have my stomach dropping. There’s numerous pictures of him and in almost all of them, there are women hanging off his arms. The women are all skinny and scantily clad, but in every picture he looks happy. He’s played me. I thought I was special, but in fact, I’m just another notch on his bedpost. I feel almost faint for what a fool I’ve been. I take deep breaths, in and out, until finally I can’t take it anymore. I tell the teacher next to me I need to go to the restroom and quietly leave the room. As soon as I get into the hallway, I put my hands on my knees and try to calm myself. I’m devastated and feel like a fool.
Before I change my mind, I send him a text and then shut off my phone. I have no choice but to shut him out. I’m not going to be sucked into his player lifestyle and be one of the women he plays with. Wasn’t there a saying about baseball players? A whore in every city? Forget it. No thanks.
