“Sorry, baby,” I apologized and pulled away from the window, leaving the hot young redhead forever, suddenly feeling irritated at Whitney for being the reason I would never know what other piercings were on her milky white body. “What did you say?”
“I said she likes him,” she repeated with a harsh tone, her eyes snapping fire at me. I thought back to the redhead and her soft eyes looking at me in adoration. The woman I loved only seemed to look at me as a credit card or someone to bitch at.
“Who?” I asked, realizing it was a dumb question as soon as it fell out of my mouth.
“Holly likes Ace,” Whitney barked and crossed her arms over her chest in irritation.
“Oh, well, I hope she likes him since she’s fucking him” I said calmly, not really understanding the problem, or how I was supposed to resolve it.
“Has he mentioned having any feelings for her?” she asked.
Oh God, why me?
Ace mentioned plenty of feelings about Holly. To name a few — her ass felt tight, her breasts felt like a perfect fit for his mouth, and oh yeah, he felt like she couldn’t get enough of his rock hard cock — but I was pretty sure that wasn’t the sort of answer Whitney was looking for.
“Not really,” I said instead.
“Nothing at all, not even that he likes her?” she pushed, her voice growing gratingly high.
“Well, he obviously likes her or he wouldn’t have spent that much time with her,” I said. “But, guys don’t talk about that kind of stuff, especially not guys like Ace Newman.”
Whitney had spent the entire week trying to tell Holly that falling for a guy like Ace was a bad idea, so why was she now pushing me to try to what? Play matchmaker?
It felt like fifth grade. Check yes or no. Should I slip him a note at practice? Do you like Holly? It all felt insane to me. Thank God she was gone. Maybe she would find another poor sap to fall for in the meantime and forget all about Ace. Wishful thinking, I knew…
“I just feel bad for her,” Whitney pushed herself down into the seat of my new Porsche, a purchase I made without her consent a couple days ago. When I told her it was my money, I found out how angry she could get. I had no idea my sweet girl had fangs, but I know now.
Her legs were crossed, and her knees fell towards me. My eyes focused on the smoothness of her skin and the hem of her skirt. She looked damn sexy in this car. I was glad she didn’t fight me too hard on keeping it once I promised to never make a large purchase without her again. I did actually feel bad about my decision once she pointed out we hadn’t even looked for a place of our own yet. She was right. But again, she’d had her friend come running to her rescue, and it had been a pretty hectic week.
“She’ll be fine,” I assured her and punched the buttons on the stereo until I found an old rock song I liked. I turned it up just enough to stop her from trying to continue the conversation, but not loud enough for her to realize that was the purpose.
I pulled in front of our apartment building with only enough time to give her a quick kiss and reassure her once again that her friend was a big girl and that she would be fine. My eyes lingered on her legs and got a quick peek of her white panties as she tried to get out of the low car with some dignity. I could see why Ace liked this car. Not a bad view from the driver’s seat.
The door slammed shut, and she bent over into the passenger side window. “I love you,” she said sweetly. “I’m sorry for going on about Holly, I just worry about her getting attached and Ace not feeling the same.” She smiled, and her eyes melted into mine before she turned and walked away. As I pulled off, I felt bad. I knew that Ace didn’t feel the same way about Holly, not if love or even serious like was involved.
He wasn’t capable of love.
“Hey, hot shot!” the man of the hour called out as I entered the locker room.
I turned, smiled, and gave a quick wave before heading to my own space, hoping to avoid some long drawn out story about some hot blonde or two brunettes that he banged while I drove Holly to the airport and listened to Whitney cry about how he would probably hurt her. Hell yes, he was going to hurt her. That’s what Ace did. Love ‘em and leave ‘em. The thing was, Holly knew that going in, so why the hell was everyone so surprised?
And why would Holly be any different from the rest?
“You’re late,” he hissed as he patted me on the back. “Big scrimmage game today,” he continued without any real regard for how insensitive he was being.
“Yeah, I had to take Holly to the airport,” I snapped back. His face changed for a moment, almost like he felt bad, but quickly turned to his crooked smile.
“I didn’t think that one was ever gonna leave,” he said coolly. “She was cramping my style.” His head rolled around his shoulders like he was soothing a sore neck. “See ya on the field, kid.”
My fists clenched, and my shoulders tensed and tightened at his indifference for not only Holly’s feelings but my own. I was the one who had to listen to Whitney whine over the mess he was about to make, and kid, hot shot, really? Who did he think he was?
“What’s got you all wound up?” Marty asked, stopping me from taking a swing at something.
I shook it off, pulled myself together, deciding to take out my frustration on the batters about to face me. I patted Marty on the back and gave his shoulder a quick squeeze. “Nothing. See ya out there.” I rushed him off so I could finish getting dressed and stretch my arm.
The scrimmage was brutal. We were up against the Yankees, who I might add, were none too happy to have a new team step onto their turf. My focus was gone, my pitches flying without my usual control, leaving opportunities one after another for the Yankees to score.
I was glad when it was over, relieved that I didn’t have to stand on that mound and continue the humiliation not only for myself but for my entire team. Coach was obviously pissed as I walked past him towards the locker room, his eyes glaring at me with more than just a little disappointment.
“Where was your head today?” he yelled directly at me once we were all packed in the central meeting area. “Obviously not in the game!” His ebony skin turned an odd shade of pale from the strain.
“We all have bad days,” Marty offered some comforting words as he patted me on the ass. He knew all about bad days. Hell, his last season was full of bad days.
Ace glared at me, and I ignored him. A part of me wanted to go over there and punch him in his smug face. He was the reason I wasn’t focused, his little tryst with Holly had created stress at home, and now on the field.
“Let’s go get a drink,” Marty said. “Shake it off.”
“Yeah, I could use a drink,” I admitted, realizing I didn’t want to go home, at least not yet. Whitney had enough on her mind. She didn’t need to worry about me as well. But, I’d be smart this time and call first and not stay out late.
“Good, I’ll meet you out front,” he said and left me to finish getting undressed.
Shit. Ace was already in the shower, and I chose one on the other side of the large room, ignoring him completely. One problem. Ace Newman wasn’t a man you could ignore, ever.