Bush League: New Adult Sports Romance (4 page)

                                                      
 
Beau

                                                      
 
*****

The feeling of Quinn's hands on my body made me feel alive. For a second I regret ushering her to safety, kind of wishing instead that I had risked trouble just to feel her touching me for a bit longer. Even as the locker room fills with my teammates, all I can do is replay the moment in my head, over and over again. As the chatter in the room grows to a volume too loud to ignore, I try to figure out how I'm going to get through the day until I can finally take her out.

Oh yeah, I also don't have her number.

Navigating the locker room to get this info is a delicate exercise. Quinn's right, I'm a dead man if her father finds out that I'm trying to take her out. I love my teammates and all but they're not exactly known for keeping secrets. Even as loyal as everybody is, word would get out fast if anyone even got a hint of what I was up to.

"Pssst," I say to Lance, one of the hotshot infielders. Good looking kid, great with the ladies; I see a lot of myself in him. "Got a question." I can tell he's intrigued and he leans close to hear what the captain of the team has for him. "You know Coach's daughter, right?" It's as if I had asked him for some drugs and guns with the way he looks at me. He shakes his head and swears up and down to me that he doesn't know her, has never talked to her and most certainly has never laid a hand on her. "This isn't a test," I assure him and get ready for my lie. "She's got a friend she's always with, some girl I saw her with. You know her?"

Lance thinks for a minute and asks "Becca?"

As long as it's a friend of Quinn's, I'll be able to get some info. I tell him yes and all Lance can tell me is that he thinks she works at the library. Good enough for me. I thank Lance and tell him that he's in no way, shape or form allowed to tell anyone about this conversation. He's not sure of what secret he's keeping but the good soldier assures me he'll keep his mouth shut. Just as I'm about to turn and head on my way, the underclassman breaks protocol and puts his hand on me. I look down and see his hand gripping my arm, keeping me in place.

"You're going now?" he asks with clear annoyance in his eyes. I assure him that I'm not going to miss anything and the team will be fine without me for a little bit. "Dude, c'mon man. We got practice. The championship, man, we're so close. Can't you just do all this stuff once we're done?"

"You guys will be fine. Trust me."

Lance lets go and shakes his head, another person done with my shit. As quietly as I can, I excuse myself from the team and set off to go find out where the hell this library is.

*****

I've always known what a library was but am absolutely stunned upon stepping inside the school's library for the first time. Outside of athletics I had no idea what the school spent money on but now it was a little clearer. Rich mahogany, computers on every flat surface, rows and rows of books, it's a nerd's paradise in here. No book can tell me what I'm looking for though, that information is going to be much harder to get.

I approach the desk in the center of the room and a gaggle of college girls both behind and around the desk are clearly stunned by my presence. Though I'm trying to talk to absolutely anyone else, a rather prudish looking old lady with odd-shaped black glasses steps to the front.

"Can I help you?!" she asks and her voice makes me want to run and hide. Her hair looks tied so tight it's restricting blood flow to her joyless face. I try to appeal to any of the star-struck girls for help but they have clearly been outranked, leaving me no choice but to speak with this terrifying lady.

"Hi, um," words are failing me. "I'm looking for Becca. Does Becca work here?"

The lady's lips are pursed and the chain connecting to her glasses pull taut as she leans a little bit closer to me.

"Young man," she says loud enough for the whole library to hear. "This is a place of study, not a place for you to come and harass women trying to learn. I highly suggest that unless you have school work to do, you be on your way or else I will call security."

The eyes of everyone surrounding us burn holes in me as they watch with deep interest to see what I'm going to do next. This woman clearly has no idea who she is talking to or else she wouldn't dare speak to me this way. With everyone watching, there was no way I was going to walk away defeated so I lean in even closer, calling her bluff.

"So, maybe if it were just me and you...alone. Maybe then you could let me know?" I ask her just above a whisper through my most charming smile. This woman doesn't know what to do, she's clearly never met someone so charismatic before. She's ready to break and I'll spend whatever time I need to in order to be able to eventually get a hold of Quinn. This woman is clear on blushing now, her wrinkled face red around the embarrassed smile that's forming on her face. She moves even closer to keep our conversation as private as possible.

"I've dialed 9 and 1," she tells me calmly. "And you have one more second until I hit that last 1."

There's no way she's serious. I know this, she knows it and our tense standoff heats up. I'm not backing down and apparently neither is this woman. Just when it comes time for at least one of us to make a move, a pretty brunette emerges.

"Ms. Heideman," she calls out, "Ms. Heideman, it's ok. I'll just be a minute. It's fine, I promise."

This Ms. Heideman relaxes and lets the girl through while never taking her eyes off of me. It's clear that I'm not welcome in the library and while that would normally be fine with me, I'm not ok with some lady putting those kinds of restrictions on me. As the perky brunette pulls on my arm to get me outside, I just can't let it go.

"I'll be back soon, Ms. Heideman and I'll be sure to let the dean know how welcoming you were to the school's star athlete. I'm sure he'll love to hear all about it."

"Beau!" the brunette says with authority as she's more forceful in pulling me outside. I give in and we burst through the doors and out onto the concrete steps outside.

"Any chance you're Becca?" I ask and she shakes her head and rolls her eyes.

"Yeah. I think you may have gotten me fired so thanks for that."

Though she's trying to be angry, this Becca is failing to hide the smile creeping on her face; she's amused by me. The girl is cute, pretty even and I'm racking my brain trying to figure out how we know each other.

"Let me guess, this is about Quinn?" she asks with her arms crossed and toe tapping the concrete below. Her annoyed demeanor instantly reminds me of another pretty girl I know.

"I just need to get in touch with her," I tell her and she lets out a scoff.

"She's not gonna sleep with you, dude," Becca tells me.

"Yeah, yeah. That's fine. I just need to speak with her. Can you tell me where to find her?"

Becca's mouth twists and the arms across her chest hug tighter. She stares right at me as she works something out in her head.

"You know I have to be a little protective of her, right?" she asks and when I assure her I understand, it's not enough. "And you know she's forbidden from even being near you or anyone else on her Dad's team?"

I nod again, letting her know this is familiar territory.

"Romeo and Juliet was just a story, man. I think you're out of your element. It'll never work," she feels the need to explain her thoughts to me. Just as I'm about to beg and tell her how Quinn makes me feel, how I can't stop thinking about her and how I'll go find her with or without help, an idea hits me.

"You like baseball players, Becca?"

The girl's demeanor changes completely and now she seems totally open to helping me. Becca says nothing but her eyebrow is raised and she's waiting for me to make her dreams come true.

"I can personally introduce you to the whole team," I continue and she's definitely interested.

"You can never, ever tell her I showed you her secret spot," she insists and I agree. Reluctantly Becca finally gestures for me to follow her.

Becca takes me down by the water, a little man-made pond on campus way out of the way,  past the student parking lots. I've never been this far out and it looks like nobody else has ever come down here either; even in the afternoon sun, the place is deserted. I'm starting to wonder if Becca took me down here to kill me. I keep a few paces away from Becca, just in case, when suddenly I hear the most beautiful singing coming from somewhere. The voice of an angel enters my ears and makes me feel warm all over.

"This is as far as I go, dude," Becca tells me. "We have a deal though, don't forget."

"Yeah, yeah," I try to dismiss her so I can hear more of the singing but she demands my attention.

"Baseball players, I want to meet them all," she says, "Or else I tell Quinn you made a pass at me."

I'm in no mood to negotiate so I tell her fine as I know there's more than a few guys on the team who would happily take her home. Becca then turns and leaves me there alone so I go and follow the sound of the stunning voice.

Quinn's sitting on a bench under some trees and I take a few minutes to just watch her. She's playing a guitar and her eyes are closed, lost in her performance. The understanding of what she actually wants to do instead of going to class is abundantly clear and she has certainly got the talent to do so. She sings with conviction as she believes nobody is watching; it's genuine and honest. Effective. She's captivated me with just a simple song, imagine what she can do on a bigger stage.

When she finishes her song she sits there in silence for a few moments. I can't resist but start to applaud, she deserves it. Instead of appreciating the gesture, Quinn almost jumps out of her skin. She quickly puts the guitar behind the bench and looks towards the trees right at me with anger in her eyes.

"What the hell? Are you stalking me?" she spits out.

"Um, you're the one who walked in when I was showering."

She's flustered. "That was an accident."

"Well this was an accident too. Sometimes I come down here to think," I lie. "Clear my head a little."

Her mouth twists but she holds back from exposing my made-up story.

"So, what time can I pick you up tonight?" I ask and she looks even angrier.

"Do you trick all your dates into going out with you?"

"Trick? If I'm not mistaken, your hand seemed pretty eager back in the locker room. And you promised," I protest.

"That's extortion."

I move closer to Quinn and she reacts as if she's afraid her body will betray the stupid rules again. She knows she can't trust herself around me.

"You can touch it again if you want," I tell her as I stand directly in front of her, my pelvis right at eye level. "Or later tonight, your choice."

The wheels spin behind Quinn's eyes as she ponders her next move. We're alone, in private, there'd be no harm in giving in to what we both want so very badly.

"6 o'clock," she finally says. "And you meet me here, right up by that road."

My heart flutters at her acceptance. "I knew you weren't afraid of breaking some rules. I'll be counting down the minutes until we can have some forbidden fun."

Quinn's expression turns serious. "I'm not sleeping with you, Beau Tillman."

"You also said you wouldn't go out with me," I retort. "See you here at 6. Wear something sexy."

I walk away to leave her wanting more, remembering the exact spot so I can be sure to pick her up on time.

*****

                                                      
 
Quinn

                                                       
*****

I walk along the shadows in order to try and disguise myself, not eager to be seen as the girl running off with the school's most notorious womanizer. When I arrive at the very spot I had directed him to, I don't see anything that looks like Beau and tell myself I'm giving him another five minutes before I give up and go home. It's too risky to wait out here for a date I shouldn't even be going on.

Hoooooooonk

Everyone in the vicinity is alerted to someone making a racket.

Hoooooooonk

Looking up I find the source of the noise, a sleek, shiny black pickup truck off the side of the road. The passenger side window is down and the grinning face alerts me to who is causing the commotion. Of course it's Beau.

My body freezes in place, everyone is watching and I desperately don't want them to see me getting into Beau's truck. He threatens to keep making noise until I do though, hovering his hand over the horn with the devil in his eyes. There's no other option than to go over to him, that's the only way he'll stop making a scene. As calmly as I can, I shuffle my feet over to his truck, keeping myself composed as possible while muttering under my breath that I'm going to kill him.

"Stop! Beau, stop!" I push through gritted teeth and he finds it hilarious. There's nothing but regret coursing through my veins as I wonder what on Earth possessed me to agree to this. Vivid memories of our rendezvous flash in my head and I instantly remember what caused my racing heart to agree. If I were going to defy my father and my principals, might as well do it with someone built like Beau.

"Daaaaaaamn," he says while leaning over and pushing the passenger-side door of the truck open for me. "You look good, Quinn Steele. Like real good. I mean, you always look good but you look like you really did yourself up for tonight. Almost like you want to skip the date and just go back to my place." One of his shaped brown eyebrows remains raised, leaving no mystery as to what he's inferring. He's right, I did put effort into my appearance but only because I haven't yet had an excuse to wear this new, black top and tight navy jeans. While he didn't know about my matching underwear on beneath, I reassure myself that I had only chosen them to make myself feel pretty.

"Drive. Far," I tell him and Beau wastes no time in putting the truck in drive and sending us on our way.

He's got a orange-red plaid button down on with the sleeves rolled up to show off the toned and tanned forearms of a division one pitcher. His blue jeans look new and maybe even pressed, as if he also put great effort into getting ready for our date. I can feel myself blush when he catches me studying his body. Beau doesn't say anything but gives a knowing smile that tells me he enjoys it and I'm free to look wherever I want to.

"Where are we going?" I ask, the impatience in my voice likely to contribute to my reputation of being tightly wound.

"Can it be a surprise?" Beau's eyebrow raises again as my eyes watch his beautifully plump lips form the words, "Isn't that what makes a date fun?"

A scoff escapes my mouth inadvertently and I feel obligated to explain. "Most fun dates don't start with extortion," I explain.

"This isn't most dates, Quinn," he says while watching me instead of the road. "But hey, I can drop you off if you want. I don't want to go out with you if you don't want to."

I have no intention to leave and keep my seatbelt tight over my chest, nestled firmly between my breasts. I'm trying to show I can be more laid back when I respond, "I'm kind of curious to see what you have planned." Beau smiles and I need to bring him back down to Earth. "But don't get any ideas. Don't even expect a kiss. Just throwing that out there."

Beau smiles confidently. "Is that so? Already made up your mind?"

"You've got too many notches on your belt for me to take you seriously." My arms cross to cover my spectacular looking tits as they are off limits. Beau's face tenses and as we stop at a red light, he looks deep into my eyes.

"There's nothing wrong with experience," he says and probably doesn't realize how creepy it comes across. "I just haven't found the right girl yet." When he realizes he's not making things better, he changes tactics. "Do I want to sleep with you? Like you wouldn't believe. And you can deny it all you want but I know you want to sleep with me too. I can feel it, we have a connection. That being said, I'm just trying to take you out on a date, that's all. If you don't want to go, I can drop you off wherever."

The light turns green and Beau doesn't move the truck, instead just looking at me to make up my mind. It's like he's thriving in my discomfort, watching with glee as I twist around in my seat, seriously conflicted. The sound of the engine pulsating and the insects and birds enjoying twilight fill the cab as Beau waits for my decision. My arms remain hugging my body as I tell him, "Drive," to which he smiles again and sends us down the road.

We stay in silence for a short time as I examine the cab of his truck. I half expect to find a misplaced bra or spent condoms littering the floor but am happy to find that it's spotless save for a baseball cap, glove and ball that moves around my feet with each turn.

"So, where are we going?" I ask again to break the silence and to make me feel better since he's driving down roads I've never seen before.

"On a romantic date, remember?"

*****

I finally feel a little bit better when Beau's truck gets off the dusty back roads and we find civilization again. My eyes light up upon seeing a boardwalk that I've never been to before. Stores, restaurants and arcades line a street that is completely foreign but exciting to me. Having only been in town for a short while I already felt I knew where everything was and now Beau was showing me something new. He pulls into a parking lot and the dark-orange sun creates a silhouette of his chiseled face that makes my heart flutter.

"Ready?" he asks and I'm temporarily unable to speak.

When I find Beau waiting outside of my door, ready to help, I'm reminded of why I was secretly excited for our date. He was right, I did want him. Bad. Ever since we met in the shower and I had touched him so inappropriately, it was all I could think about. My hands wanted nothing more than to reach and feel him, press myself against his warmth as he would push himself into me. I had an itch only Beau could scratch. His charm is undeniable and something I know I'll have to keep fighting. There are just too many roadblocks.

Beau reveals a part of his plan, asking if I'd like to walk along the beach before the sun sets. We stand on the edge of the sand and I place my hand on his big, strong shoulder to remove my sandals before he effortlessly kicks off his shoes. We walk down to the water's edge and have the beach practically to ourselves. This slice of heaven is unpopulated at the moment and it is as if it were here just for us. Beau places himself closest to the water and I'm at his side, closer than I should be. As we walk, our hands occasionally brush against each other's and each tiny touch sends jolts of electricity throughout my body. I feel him try to get closer and mentally try to urge him to just hold my hand but he stops each time.

"So are you here for like, good now?" he asks out of nowhere.

"What do you mean? I'm here for at least the summer," I explain. "Classes and everything."

"But don't you go to a different college?"

The boy had done his research. "I do, or, I did. My father wasn't happy with the path I've been headed down so he asked," I pause, "no he demanded I take as many 'practical' classes at State while I still can for free."

"Won't it always be free?" Beau asks.

"Not if he gets fired. If he doesn't win it all this coming year, or can't put together a good team for next year, Dad's pretty certain he's gonna get canned. That means I have to work super hard to get my degree finished this summer."

The conversation comes to a grinding halt as we both contemplate the impact Beau and his actions have on so many lives. It's true, if my Dad believed Beau was going to stick around, he would be so preoccupied with next year's team that I could be off in the city, maybe even singing on a stage somewhere. Instead I'm stuck at State taking accounting classes.

"Have you decided if you're coming back next year?" I ask knowing full well I'm killing the mood.

"This is all anyone asks me these days. Can we just forget about it, at least for tonight?"

Though so much of my life would be affected if Beau enters the draft and leaves college behind, I agree only because he seems so stressed.

The sun is starting to set as we make it to the jetty. Beau suggests we move inland for 'the next part'. This time he does take my hand and I happily rest it inside of his big paw, goosebumps running over my body as he holds me and we connect even deeper. The smile on my face can't be contained as he leads me back to the boardwalk.

The thought of food hadn't entered my mind until a loud grumble sounds, reminding me that I hadn't eaten all day. Beau hears it and laughs, quick to assure me that he has a meal planned.

La Bella Rosa really stands out, looking like it is the oldest and fanciest place on the whole shoreline. When Beau starts to lead me in the direction of the entrance, I wish that I had worn more suitable clothes. Quickly I try to brush all of the sand off of my body and Beau laughs, assuring me that we'll be fine.

"These guys know me."

The majority of Beau's life seems to be people falling over themselves to make him happy. La Bella Rosa is no different, a host coming out of nowhere to hug him and smile at me, ushering us to a sprawling booth in the back of the room.

"Mr. Tillman it is a pleasure to see you again," the man tells Beau.

"Great to see you as well Giuseppe," Beau says as we're lead to a booth in the back.

The menu is huge and sprawling and I weigh between being a dainty princess and a glutton.

"Get whatever you want," Beau insists, "and get more than that too. The food here is insane."

Beau rests his menu on the table, already knowing what he wants and I can't help but mentally note that his confidence is still a turn on. He looks around the room to give me time until he clearly grows bored.

"So, when am I gonna hear you sing again?" he asks with a smile that tells me he knows he's up to no good.

"After I get my degree," I let him know. Beau just nods, mutters "That's a shame," and lets me get back to the menu. I settle on being dainty and only order a simple pasta dish, "small" I insist and Giuseppe nods that he understands. When the food comes I pick at it like a lady but Beau forgets all manners, diving into his sauce-drenched chicken as if it's still alive and he has to kill it. It's enough to make me laugh and put me momentarily at ease. Just as I start to delve into my pasta, the lights start to dim. I look at Beau who assures me that I'm not having a stroke and that that it's supposed to be happening.

"Watch," he says before pointing to the front of the room. A curtain has been pulled back to reveal a small stage with a stool on it. A petite woman emerges holding an acoustic guitar and everyone in the dining room is silent in anticipation. The woman is beautiful, stunning and though she's so tiny, she carries the big guitar as if it's nothing.

I'm unable to eat while the woman plays and sings, her voice like nothing I've ever heard before and perfectly compliments her playing. Any hope I have of finding my way as a singer-guitarist feel immediately squashed and dwarfed in comparison to this lady. She is what I hope to be but don't dare believe I can become. My appetite is gone.

The woman finishes her song and a polite applause lifts from the few of us who are in the audience, much more subdued than she is worthy of. When Giuseppe arrives at our table, I'm prepared to tell him I'm still working on my dish but he's apparently here for something different.

"Madame," the host says to me. "We would be honored if you would perform something for us."