Cleat Catcher (The Cleat Chaser Duet Book 2) (30 page)

She stood next to me and surveyed her handiwork. Her in black, me in red, and both of us picture perfect.

“You are smoking. Not gonna lie. I might even go gay for you tonight, and you know how much I’m not into pussy. It’s just that good.” She smiled at my mirror image, her light brown eyes misting a bit. “I haven’t seen you this dressed up since…” She let her words fade and wrapped her arm around my waist.

“It’s okay.” We had a standing rule of never speaking of him.

She lay her head on my shoulder. “I didn’t think.”

I leaned on her. “It’s been two years. It doesn’t hurt as much, anymore.” Was that true? I didn’t think about him every day like I used to. Now he flitted around at the corners of my thoughts, only coming out in moments like these to steal what little happiness I should have felt. Why had I let him take so much from me?

“Maybe it’s time for second chances?” She lifted her head, an entreaty in her words.

No
. “Maybe.” I didn’t want to have this discussion, not now. I wanted to go out and try to have some fun, nothing more.

She smacked my ass, jolting me from my darkening thoughts. “Let’s go out on the town. Braden’s paying, so be a fucking lush if you want. Drinks on him!”

E
ASTON

T
HE FAMILIAR SLAPPING
sound resonated like a shotgun blast through the empty outfield bleachers as the ball landed in my glove. I tossed it to the bat boy hiding out behind the protective net in the outfield. Shagging flies during batting practice was the life of a pitcher. I tried to concentrate, maintain my focus on the different elements of the game, but Kyrie holding the net was all that ran through my mind.

Crack
.

I stared off at the empty bleachers and up to the concourse where Kyrie had disappeared.

“Easton, look out! Fuck!” Braden’s words took a moment to sink in.

A ball whistled past my ears, barely missing me. Instinctively, I dove out of the way after the ball had already thudded against the padding on the outfield wall. “Jesus.”

I shook my head, imagining how that ball would’ve tasted had it been a few inches to the left.
Snap out of it motherfucker.

Braden trotted over and picked up the ball from the warning track. “You almost got a little less pretty. What the fuck you doing out here?” The metal straps on Braden’s gear clanked as he tossed the ball toward the infield in one smooth motion. “Pussy on the brain?”

“No!” I answered too quickly.

Braden grinned and shook his head. “That girl is in your head something awful.”

I needed to change the subject. “There a reason you’re here? You’re out of your element.”

“Nice,
the dude
. Coach wanted me to talk to you.”

“About?” I held my glove to my brow to block the sun.

“Front office is looking at bringing in a new arm.”

“Okay?” I’d be a free agent at the end of this year. This was not good news, but I had to play it off.

“Don’t think the pitching is deep enough. Sean Richards is at the top of their list.”

I didn’t know much about him other than he used to be with the club and they traded him. It was common practice these days to skip around teams. We were nothing but dollar signs, sold and traded like livestock. “Should be fine. He’s got good stuff.”

“That’s the same thing I told them. No biggie. Coach is just trying to give everyone a heads up. Same shit as always. Make him feel welcome, yadda yadda.”

“Well, he ain’t a rookie so I’ll be less of a dick.”

“Hah! Yeah, I’m sure we’ll still prank the fuck out of him.”

“Well, of course. I would hate to deny him of our long-honored tradition. Would seem inhumane.”

“Braden!” The voice came from beyond the outfield wall.

Braden flipped his head in that direction. “Yeah?”

“Stop fondling your goddamn lover and get to work!”

“Jesus Christ.” There was a crack of the bat and I watched the ball soar over the left field wall and rattle in the empty bleachers.

“But Coach, he says he’s almost there,” Braden called back.

“Boy, quit fuckin’ around before I run your goddamn dick in the dirt!”

“I don’t know, Coach. He’s bigger than you.”

The players chuckled, including Coach. This was their thing. It always kept practice entertaining at the expense of my humility.

“I don’t care how tall that big motherfucker is. I’m the boss around here.” The stadium acted like a microphone, amplifying their voices for everyone to hear.

“I better get back before he has a stroke.” Braden made a jerk off motion with his hand that had me chortling before he started jogging back to the bullpen. “I wasn’t talking about his weight, Coach. I got a handful of cock over here!” He turned back and grinned at me.

The whole field erupted, practice coming to a momentary halt as laughter rang out around the stadium.

“Hey, we still on for drinks tonight?” My stomach tensed, even though I knew the answer. This fucker was right about her being in my head. I hadn’t felt this way about a first date in well, ever.

“Yeah bro, be there at eight.”

“You ladies make plans for your porn shoot on someone else’s time!” Coach continued admonishing us as practice started up again.

I needed to get home before Kyrie’s face got me killed in the outfield.

I pushed open the door to my high rise that overlooked downtown when a flash of yellow sent me tumbling to the floor. “Motherfucker!” I grabbed at my dick and tried not to puke on the cherry hardwood floors. The pain radiated from stomach to sack and back again.

“I told your ass. You know the rules. Fighting on TV, putting my soy milk in your beefy ass protein shakes, or leaving a dirty dish in the sink is punishable by whiffle ball bat to the cock, son.”

I looked up to meet my younger sister’s gaze while she wielded the yellow whiffle ball bat in a hitter’s stance. She was my roommate and best friend in the world. “He fucking started it, man. What the fuck?”

She cocked her head to the side. “I hit you because of that dish in the sink. Did you fight too?” She reared back to hit me again.

I held a hand up. “At least give me a clean death. A soldier’s death.”

She paused mid-swing and started laughing. “Fine, pussy. Turn around.”

I scooted around on my knees, looking fucking ridiculous doing so. I looked back at her with my fingers interlocked behind my head. She kept doing these little warm up swings and stopping the bat right next to my shoulders.

“You gonna hit me anytime soon?”

She nodded and took the bat all the way back behind her ear before belting out a roar and swinging hard and fast. I braced myself a little for the sting. She was a mean bitch and could swing hard.

Kasey stopped the fucking bat right behind me again. I faced forward and heat seeped into my cheeks at her ridiculous antics.

“Will you hurry the fuck up? Shit. My knees are starting to hurt.” I turned my head back to curse her some more when I saw another flash of yellow and this time felt the bat slap into the side of my face.

“Ahh suck ass dick! What is wrong with you? I have a date tonight, you prick. That’s gonna leave a mark.” I pressed my palm to my cheek and glared at her.

She flipped the bat like she hit a game-winning homerun and it rattled around on the floor, then she grabbed her crotch at me. “Think about that next time you leave your dishes in the sink, bitch.”

My face and balls were still on fire as I worked up to my feet. “Good to see you too, sister.”

“You really have a date?” Kasey flopped on the couch and kicked her feet up on the coffee table. Her head canted to the side as she stared at me.

“Yeah.”

“Did I ruin your shot at a blowy?” She nodded at my crotch.

I sank down into the couch, the pain finally subsiding a little. I shrugged. “Maybe, fuck man, I don’t know. It’s hard to think after a shot to the dick.”

She flipped the TV on and turned it to SportsCenter. The fight was all over the screen.

“Oh, what the fuck, Braden? What a pussy getting sucker punched like that.” She made a jerk off motion with her hand and tossed a load of phantom splooge at the screen. Apparently, it was becoming the gesture of choice amongst friends and family.

“Well, I did have him in a half nelson at that point.” I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Doesn’t matter. I’m beating his ass when I see him. No wonder you had to get involved. Pussy shit.”

“See? Hitting me in the face was not justified.”

“The fuck it wasn’t.” She backed up the video and showed me shaking off Braden’s signals. “Braden might be softer than a whore’s wet pussy, but he made the right pitch call before that sumbitch teed off on your curveball.”

Usually I would’ve scoffed at some amateur trying to tell me about pitch selections, but Kasey knew her shit. She was a division one All American in softball; hence our mutual admiration for braids and a nice set of tits. Still, I couldn’t just roll over at her analysis. “Bullshit.”

She paused right before the homerun and leaned forward, pointing her finger for emphasis. “Look at the hitter’s feet.”

I squinted a bit and looked.
Fuck.
I sighed.

“Yeah, that’s right. Admit it. Say me and Braden are right, you cocky little bitch. It’s written all over your stupid face, anyway.”

The batter’s front foot was angled forward. He was waiting for the exact pitch I threw.

I shook my head.

“Come on now, say it. Say I’m right. Quit nibblin’ ya big gobbler.”

My eyebrows raised. “Huh?”

“You know, when a chick is supposed to be sucking dick, but she keeps licking the head? Nibbling around, and not giving you what you want? Tell me what I want to hear, cock maggot.”

I rubbed a hand over my jaw. “You really are a man in a chick’s body. Fine. You were right.”

“Truth. Now tell me about your date. How are the titties? No wait, let me guess. Last girl you dated had medium to small tits, so you should be due for a fat pair of fun bags. Am I right? Tell me!” She leaned forward, her eyes wide.

I shrugged. “I honestly don’t know much other than she’s brunette, kind of tall, and reads her fucking Kindle during baseball games.”

Kasey gasped. “My word, I do declare. Kindle during the game? We should burn her at the stake. We’ll pray over her while she’s on fire of course.”

Kasey had a knack for taking a conversation in the worst possible direction.

I glared at her as I stood. “I don’t know why I tell you anything.”

“Because you love me!” She rose, walked over, and gave me a hug. “Good luck on your date, big brother. You know I love you.”

“I know. Love you too, sis.”

She leaned in closer to my ear. “I need you out of the house soon. I have an appointment with a bitch about a scissor banging sesh for an appetizer, and a late main course on the town.”

“What an appetizing image.”

“Oh, she’ll be dining for certain.” She held out her hand, waiting for a fist bump. “Right? C’mon. Give it up.”

I stood there, shaking my head. “I need to shower and get ready.”

I walked toward the bathroom.

“You can’t leave me hanging, you prick. That shit was gold and you know it.”

I shot her the bird as I rounded the corner into the hallway.

“It’s fine. I ain’t mad. I’ll give you all the details later. Licking the clitty and ass, your favorite.”

I thought about vomming for a moment as I walked into the bathroom and shut the door. My sister’s conquests were legend, but I sure as hell didn’t want to hear about them. I shook off any unwanted mental images.

I turned the knob on the shower before walking back to the mirror. Kyrie’s long legs and dark hair flashed through my mind. Would she be interested in me? “You got this shit, Easton.” Sometimes my pep talks to my own image helped. Not today.

I unbuckled my belt, unbuttoned my pants, and yanked them down before pulling my shirt over my head. For some reason, I kept thinking about her reading her Kindle in the middle of the game and I noticed my fingers gripping the counter, hard. Hard enough to see the whites of my knuckles. Then I saw her weaving through the crowd, up the stairs, and onto the concourse.