Ace’s face turned pale. He sat up in the seat and slid one of the shot glasses towards me. “That’s fucked up, brother, it was just one week,” he said with a defeated tone I’d never heard before.
“One week is all it takes sometimes.” I gripped the glass, downed the shot at the same speed as Ace and then took a long swig of my beer.
“I never led her on,” he insisted. “Hell, I even told her not to get too close. And she said she was just looking for some fun.”
“Well, she had too much fun,” I admitted, realizing that Holly was just as much to blame for all this as Ace, maybe even more. Ace never pretended to be anything other than a player, but Holly pretended to be okay with sharing him, when all along, she was hoping to win him all to herself.
“This is why I don’t do relationships,” Ace said. “Too much fucking drama.”
He wasn’t wrong.
I lifted my arm and waved the waitress back over to the table. Her face looked strained as she tried to force a smile as she approached. I felt foolish suddenly for being such an ass, even if I had good reason. “Another round, and tell those pussies at the bar to get their tails back up here.” I motioned to Marty and Frank who were pretending to not look in the mirror across the bar at what was happening behind them.
“See, you run from relationships, but I couldn’t imagine my life without Whitney,” I admitted once the waitress was gone.
“Too much pussy to play with to settle for one. That’s like committing to one flavor of ice cream for the rest of your life,” Ace argued. He slapped me on the shoulder and let out one of his cocky chuckles that insinuated that his words were pure wisdom.
“Vanilla,” I said. His look was full of confusion as I reached under the table and into my pocket. I opened a small box that contained a large diamond ring inside, the best clarity for a 2c stone, the jeweler had said. “I could eat vanilla my entire life and never miss any other flavor, and Whitney is the only woman I need.”
Marty and Frank approached the table and started laughing their ass off. Apparently, me holding an engagement ring out to Ace was hilarious from their side of the booth, because Marty dropped to one knee and held out a fake ring to Frank.
“Glad to see you two made up,” Frank teased, “but, I think marriage is a little sudden.”
“Put that fucking ring away, and if you’re smart, you’ll never get it back out again,” Ace sneered.
I slid it back into my pocket, not sure when I would get it out again, but I knew I would.
“Good for you,” Marty cheered and slapped me on the back. “Another round!” He called to the waitress. “We have to celebrate!” His tone was boastful and happy even as the replay of our day plastered the television screens around us. I refused to let it get to me. I wasn’t planning on having another day like that. Besides, it was just practice. And that’s what practice was for, to work out the kinks.
CHAPTER NINE
Whitney
“I thought you were excited to get me all to yourself.” I used the baby talk that usually drove Calvin wild, but didn’t get the reaction I had hoped for.
“It’s been a long few weeks, babe,” he said without even turning his eyes from the TV to look at me.
“Yes, it has,” I snapped and slid off the couch and stomped into the bedroom, feeling like a selfish bitch with every step I took. But I couldn’t seem to help it. Bitch seemed to flow from me lately. I must be homesick or something.
I felt like I was constantly battling Calvin for attention, but the game, the coach, Ace, the fans, and now the sports reporters all seemed to win out.
I heard his footsteps in the hallway and quickly tossed myself over the king sized bed, burrowing my face into one of the down pillows, going from bitch to crybaby in an instant.
“Sweetie,” he said softly. I didn’t budge. He moved closer until I felt his hand caressing my leg. “I’m sorry, we only have a few more practices,” he sputtered out the same old excuse.
“I thought we were going to find a place, start our life together. This feels like your life, and I’m just in the way,” I groaned and rolled over onto my back.
He sat on the edge of the bed and gave me that same old tired smile. We had been having the same fight almost daily but never had a resolution. “When we finally finish up spring training—”
I held up a hand, silently asking him to shut the hell up. I’d heard it all before. Once the season starts, things will calm down, I’ll find my groove, we’ll find our groove, then it will be just us… blah, blah, blah. It was all bullshit. Once the season started, things would only get tougher.
“I just think Ace is a bad influence on you,” I spit out at him, wishing I could take it back the minute I said it. Not because it wasn’t true, but because that fight was getting me further and further from Calvin, I knew that.
“I’m so sick of hearing about Ace,” he moaned and stood up from the bed. “He has nothing to do with this, with us, with anything.” He argued the same argument I forced him to argue day after day.
“You know he still calls Holly,” I snapped. “Yet he’s always running around with a different woman, and you’re right there by his side, his little shadow,” I growled and pushed myself up on the mattress and leaned against the headboard.
His eyes were cold, tired, and empty as he stared at me. “I love you,” he murmured. “But, this argument has to stop. If I remember correctly, you wanted this too. You encouraged me to play. You wanted me to make it to the majors. You’re the one with the dreams of living in a mansion and driving fancy cars.” His eyes flicked down my body. “Wearing fancy clothes. I’m working my ass off to give it to you, and now all you do is complain because I’m also dealing with the downside of being a celebrity. Well, guess what? I’m figuring this out too!”
Tears filled my eyes, and he cursed, sat down, stood back up, then walked around to my side of the bed. He leaned down, hugged me tightly, and kissed me on the cheek as I sobbed onto his shoulder.
I calmed myself down and let him pull away from me long enough to slide open the nightstand drawer. “Have you seen this?” I asked, pushing a tabloid onto the bed in front of him.
“I don’t give a fuck what those people have to say.” His voice rose with anger as he picked it up and gave it a quick glance.
Major League Pitcher Calvin Malone Still Playing in the Minors When It Comes to Women. Will He Ever Reach a True Player’s Level?
Underneath that headline was a picture of me wearing a pair of green yoga pants and a tank top with my hair pulled into a ponytail walking next to Calvin. Beside that photo was one of Ace with two hot brunettes on each arm, both dressed to kill as they walked out of a nightclub.