Winning Streak (The Beasts of Baseball #4)

“You want me to leave you a key?” His voice was so deep, so seductive that all I wanted in that moment was for him to leave me a key.

“Not tonight. I’m staying at Whitney’s. Can I call you tomorrow?” I asked, feeling better about leaving the ball in my court.

Whitney smiled and nodded at me in approval.

“I’m leaving for Daytona soon. Will I get to see you before I go?” he asked, his voice growing deeper.

“I hope so,” I admitted, lowering my voice to match his.

“I hope so too. Sure you can’t come over?”

Something deep inside me twisted, but I needed to stand my ground. “Hopefully soon.”

He exhaled. “Alright, baby. Soon.”

I powered off my phone before I changed my mind, then realized I was holding it to my chest.

“I don’t know what you see in that man,” Whitney hissed as I slipped it into my purse.

Mmm… if only she knew all the reasons I put up with Ace Newman.

“Gross!” she exclaimed, and I realized I was smiling. Well, actually I was grinning like a cat ready to lap up a bowl of cream. I tried to wipe the sinful expression off my face, really I did. By the look on Whit’s face, I could tell I wasn’t successful.

“I know you aren’t his biggest fan, Whitney, but you haven’t seen the parts of him that I have.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “Actually, I did see his donkey dick in the locker room once, so—”

I’m not sure what else she said because I could hear nothing but my own laughter. It must have been contagious because she was soon laughing too. When we finally calmed down, I admitted, “He is huge, but there’s something else about him that draws me to him. Something wounded that he doesn’t let many people see.”

“And you’ve seen it?”

I nodded. “Yeah, and the pain inside him is so deep, it’s like he pushes everyone away before they can get too close, see the little boy inside him who’s hurting so much.”

Whitney ran a hand down my arm. “And you want to save him from himself?”

I thought about the question. “I don’t know that I can. I don’t know that anyone can. But I think I’m the first woman he’s let get this close to him. He talks to me, and I think he appreciates that I really listen.”

Whitney blinked a few times. “That makes me really sad for him, but Holly, please don’t sell your soul to him. Don’t get back into the same situation as your fa—” She snapped her mouth closed, but I knew what she was going to say. Your father.

I knew all about the cycle of abuse, and I certainly didn’t want that to happen to me either. But…

I sighed, knowing it was that “but” that would get me into trouble.

But… I wanted to save Ace from himself.

I wanted to continue to see the part of him that others didn’t.

I wanted to feel the way I felt with him. Not just during sex, but in the times he opened himself up to me. There was so much more to him than he allowed the world to see and he protected that good, sweet part of him with the asshole bad boy that was tabloid fodder.

But Whitney was right. I couldn’t sell my soul to save him. I couldn’t give up myself in the process.

By the time we exited the ladies room, I’d gotten myself under control, and Whitney became Jack’s cheerleader. “I think Jack likes you.”

It was pretty obvious that he was interested. “He seems nice,” I said.

“And cute,” Whitney teased.

I nodded but didn’t say the words that sprang into my mind — but he isn’t Ace.

The waitress had brought another round of drinks while we were gone and Whitney quickly sucked half of hers down with one gulp. “I think we should take off after this.” Her sweet demeanor and fake yawn wasn’t fooling anyone, at least not me. I knew she was trying to take off early and leave me alone with Jack. And, actually, that was fine with me. It might be good for me to have someone other than Ace to focus on.

Calvin agreed, and Jack quickly turned to me. “Would you mind staying for another drink?”

“Of course.”

Whitney kept my attention with wedding talk while the guys finished their beers and planned their trip to Daytona Beach. Calvin was leaving tomorrow, but Jack would be in town a couple more days. When Calvin finished his beer, he turned and smiled, as if he knew of his future wife’s diabolical plan to find me a new man — this man, this gorgeous man.

“You all have fun.” He kissed my cheek. “See ya in six weeks. Enjoy your new digs and keep an eye on my girl.”

I gave him a hug. “I will. Happy training.”

Whitney came around the table and squeezed me tightly before pulling Calvin away from the table and towards the front doors.

Without Whitney’s eyes burning through me across the table, time with Jack became comfortable and easy. I found myself enjoying talking to him, finding out about his life. The fact that he was easy on the eyes didn’t hurt.

An only child, born and raised in Los Angeles and recently traded from his hometown team, Jack was lost in the city and felt homesick, which warmed my heart. Los Angeles was a much different environment from my small Indiana hometown, but there were times I missed it so I could relate, but most times, I preferred to be here in the city.

Jack picked at the last potato skin on mine and Whitney’s appetizer plate. “You hungry?” he asked.

“Not really, but I can tag along.”

“I saw a pizza place next door when I came in, and my stomach has been grumbling ever since,” he admitted.

“Let’s do it!” I finished my drink and smiled. I was starting to feel light-headed from the alcohol, and I wasn’t entirely ready to say goodnight, so food was the perfect solution to keep it going for a bit longer.

He stood, pulled my chair out for me, and handed me my purse. I wasn’t missing Ace Newman at all. In fact, I was feeling pretty empowered about blowing him off.

I’d worn a lightweight jacket and the night air on the busy city street was growing colder. Jack pulled his heavier coat off and wrapped it around my shoulders without me even asking. Wow!

Jack offered me his arm, and we walked the half block to the place that had tortured his hunger pains all evening. The pizza was good, typical New York style, thin crust and too much cheese with an extra helping of grease, but sitting in that old worn out red booth with Jack was fun.

“I’d love to see you again,” he said after wiping orange pizza grease from his chin.

“I would too.”

“Maybe when I get back from spring training?”

“That would be great.”

He asked about my family, and I eventually shared that Mom was gone, and Dad and I weren’t exactly close, but I didn’t tell him why. Most of the family topic was spent talking about Hannah, my younger sister, and my grandfather, who I admired more than any man in the world.

Jack’s home life seemed picture perfect with parents who were still married and loved one another, with no other siblings to take the spotlight. The ocean was his playground growing up. It sounded picturesque, nothing like my own.

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