Rookie Mistake: A Sports Romance Novel (The Beasts of Baseball Book 1) (13 page)

Once we stepped away, Calvin scolded me for a second about being rude, but when he couldn’t tell me who she was or why she was so important, he shut his mouth and apologized for his own rudeness.

The rest of the night was like a fairytale. We were served a beautiful dinner, a champagne toast, and there was a formal introduction of each team member, the coach, and of course, the owner. Several of the Yankees and Mets showed up to support the new team, something the mayor had been quoted as saying “would never happen.”

I began to lighten up and really have some fun, enjoying the attention from members of the other teams. One player for the Mets, Todd Morris, took particular interest in me, and we danced twice before the night was over.

It was fun to see Calvin be the one looking jealous for once.

CHAPTER TEN

e

Calvin

I
held the ball just slightly off center, letting my fingers find their place as I stared Ace down. He held his bat high off his shoulder, ready to drill one of my famous four-seam fastballs, but this time, I was ready for him.

I added a cut to the ball as it left my hand, slowing it down just a few miles per hour. He stared hungrily at the ball as it blasted towards him, and he swung too soon. Strike!

The team cheered, the catcher the loudest behind the plate as the ball settled into his glove with a loud pop.

“Okay, you wanna jam me up?” Ace called out to me, shaking his head in amazement that I would play him that way.

That was it, last practice pitch before our opening season game. I laughed as he flung his bat towards the dugout and pretended to fight with Marty, screaming like a man possessed. I had watched Ace Newman take down many umpires over the years. I couldn’t wait to see it first-hand.

“Alright, boys, get ready for our big game,” Coach Griffin yelled as we ran towards the locker room.

Caroline Black, the beautiful blonde woman from the celebration was leaning against the fence near the dugout. She had been watching the entire practice, and I noticed her primary focus was on me.

“Great practice, Calvin,” she said as I ran past her. I smiled but kept moving, not sure if she was truly there to see me or if she had another agenda.

“Whooweeee,” Ace hollered as he gripped the back of my neck. “Looks like you have a personal fan.”

“I’m sure she was just here to watch the last practice,” I said and pulled away from his tight grip.

“Oh no, I saw how she looked at you at the party,” Ace argued. “She had that same look today.” He puckered his lips and batted his eyes as he pushed up imaginary breasts on his chest.

“Oh yeah, what look is that?” I asked and tried not to laugh at his nonsense.

“Just watch yourself,” Ace warned. “She’s a man eater.”

I looked at him, surprised he wasn’t telling me to jump that shit. “She seemed very nice, you’re just jealous that she isn’t here to see you.”

His face turned serious, and his eyes locked onto mine. “Trust me on this, she’s out for fresh meat. Beast meat,” he said and then laughed when I rolled my eyes.

“You’re a real asshole, you know that?”

He didn’t respond, just disappeared into the showers and left me alone.
Thank God!

“Hey, Calvin, when you planning on popping the question?” Marty asked.

I’d planned on doing it after our first game, or possibly even during, but with so much turmoil at home and constant nagging and fighting, the thought had vanished from my mind. “I don’t know yet,” I said, not wanting to admit my concerns.

“Is everything okay at home?” he asked. Typical Marty. Baseball’s version of Dr. Phil.

“Yeah, it’s all good.” It actually was for now, meaning this minute, but I didn’t know how long that would last. She was still nagging about us finding our own place, but I spent a good chunk on her ring and of course, my Porsche. Plus, I hadn’t had time to really research the best areas let alone look at homes, and Whitney was insisting we do it “together.”

Ugh.

I shook my head, trying to shake off the bad mood. We’d had another fight about it the other night. Sure, I’d been dropped a chunk when I signed the contract, but the amount wasn’t endless, and places on Long Island were expensive as hell.

So, of course, Whitney had thrown my car in my face. “So you’d rather buy a whore magnet than find a decent place for me to live?”

I’d looked around the apartment, which was way nicer than either of the homes in which we’d grown up. Then I’d marched to the kitchen counter where I’d tossed my credit card statement earlier that day.

“See this?” I’d yelled, pulling out the statement and waving it in the air. “Thirty-two thousand dollars, Whitney! On clothes! In. A. Month.”

Her jaw had fallen open, then her eyes had filled with tears. And of course I’d caved, feeling bad for making her cry. Dammit.

One of the trainers called my name, distracting me from the hell in my head. He iced me down and did routine PT to help my arm and shoulder heal from the workout I’d given it in practice.

After a shower, I tossed my bag over my shoulder and walked through the dugout to the field. I was surprised to see Caroline still standing at the fence. Her smile was wide, and her eyes sparkled at she waved in my direction.

She was here for me. Shit.

“Hey, Calvin. Looks like you guys are ready for a serious season.” I watched her lips move. They were perfectly painted a shade of red that reminded me of the Marilyn Monroe posters I had on my wall in college. Her blonde hair was short, not as short as Marilyn’s, but curled at the ends in spiral ringlets that made her look sweeter than what Ace made her out to be.

“Thanks, I believe we’re ready,” I admitted.

“How about you. Do you feel ready, or are you nervous?” she asked.

“I’m more than ready, and no, not nervous,” I semi-lied. In fact, I was nervous as hell, but that wasn’t her business.

Her eyes narrowed and those sexy red lips curled into almost a pucker. “Of course, you’re not nervous, you’re a beast!” she exclaimed with a squeal and then a sweet laugh. Her head fell back against her shoulders as she over exaggerated her humor at her comment, but it led my eyes to her long neck.

“I’ll have a box, so I’ll be watching every game,” she said and then motioned to one of the skyboxes. “I just had to be down here today so I could get a better look at you.” She smiled. I couldn’t tell if her eyes batted to flirt or if they were blinking from the sun that had started to fall.

I cleared my throat and took a step away. “Well, we appreciate your support. We need all we can get as a new team.”
The public relations department would love me today.

“I’d love to take you to dinner and celebrate your last practice,” she purred.
Yes, she was definitely flirting.

“I’d love that,” I accepted, then immediately felt that growing burn in the pit of my stomach. “But, I really shouldn’t.” I retracted, taking another step away.

Those beautiful lips pouted, and her eyes dropped with sadness to match. Her thin white top was low; her breasts pushed out so far I thought her chin would rest upon them as she lowered her head to exaggerate her expression.

“Why not?” she asked in a sweet baby voice. That was my weak spot. Whitney could get me every time with that tone, and here stood a woman who was certainly stirring some attraction in me using my weaknesses against me.

“I’m in a relationship and having dinner with a beautiful woman would probably create some trouble.” I made my excuse sweet and to the point.

Whitney should be proud. Well, with the exception that I just called this woman beautiful.

She placed a hand on my arm and slowly caressed it, up and down, squeezing it gently as those big blue eyes blinked at me. Her movements mimicked something familiar, something sexual, and my cock twitched.

“Honey, I’m not asking you to marry me, just dinner.” Her voice dripped like honey from those lips. “Does she not want you to eat?”

“I just think she might be upset,’ I admitted.

“Well, I’m sorry to hear that. A beast cannot be tamed completely. She should revel in the fact that she has something more than a man and not try to cage it up.”

It was almost the same line that Ace had been using on me since spring training started, but somehow when it came from her, it made more sense. “I appreciate the offer, maybe another time,” I apologized. “I’m sure she has something special planned.”

Her hand dropped from my arm, and I instantly missed it. Slowly, she pushed the sunglasses from the top of her head down over her eyes and puckered her lips in a kissing motion before turning to walk away.
Yes, I watched.
That ass was perfect, shaped like an upside heart, full, plump, and fit perfectly into her red capris.

I wanted to kick myself in the balls as she turned and looked over her shoulder. That was probably the hottest woman I’d ever seen, and I just turned her down. My cock twitched again inside my pants, not out of excitement this time, but utter disappointment.

“She’s out for your blood,” Ace whispered in my ear as he patted me on the back. “Let’s get a beer.” He took my bag from my shoulder and gripped my elbow to turn me around.

I might have stood there kicking myself, daydreaming about what could have been for another twenty minutes if he hadn’t showed up.

“I can only have a couple,” I insisted as he tossed my bag into the small backseat of my car.

“You drive,” he said.

“Where’s your car?’ I asked.

“Holly wanted to visit her cousin,” he said and rolled his eyes. “It’s like an hour from here, too much for a cab.”

I raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t even know Holly was here.”

He opened the passenger door and slid into the seat. I could tell this wasn’t something he was willing to talk about. Which meant it was all I wanted to talk about on the ride to the bar.

“You two getting serious then?” I asked.

“No, don’t read too much into it, hot shot. She’s a nice piece of ass, that’s all.”

I was grinning so hard my cheeks hurt. “Oh yeah, a nice piece of ass that you seem to be getting serious about.” I dropped my sarcasm in his lap and continued my painful but still-worth-it grin.

“I can still fuck, and I do, trust me. Whoever I want, whenever I want,” he snapped. “She knows that. She can too.”

Yeah, right.

“Not like you,” he went on, “who can’t even accept a dinner invitation because your woman might get pissed.”

“No, I just know how good I have it. Besides, Whitney probably has a nice dinner planned, probably something romantic to celebrate the beginning of the season. So, a couple beers and I’m out. You can find your own way home.”

Not that Ace finding a ride was a problem, but it felt good to be in control for a moment. I knew he wouldn’t let me lead for long, he never did.

“You know that’s not why you didn’t go,” he said, leaning back against my Italian leather car seat and grinned to match the one I wore earlier. “You didn’t go because you wanted to fuck her.”

“Oh c’mon, I don’t even know her. She was being nice, so I was polite, that’s all,” I lied. I did want to fuck her. The thought of those red lips around my cock and those baby blues looking up at me was what made me twitch in my pants.

“Yeah, well you better keep it in your pants with that one, kid. You can’t handle a woman like that,” he warned.

I glared at him. “You don’t know what I can handle.”

There was no way I wanted Ace Newman, a player I had idolized all through college, to know that Whitney had popped my cherry and was only the second sexual experience I’d ever had. The one before it, Sarah Frankfurt, a girl with braces and big breasts let me get to third base in junior high. She wanted to go down on me, but her mouth full of metal scared the hell out of my dick.

It was a relief to get out of the car and toss my keys to the valet. Ace continued busting my balls as we walked into the club. “Wouldn’t it be nice to fuck whoever you wanted and not feel guilty?” he asked.

I was feeling guilty, or at least I had when my thoughts drifted to Caroline’s lips and her thin white top that left little to the imagination without a bra underneath.

“Fast cars, expensive suits, hot pussy, and winning the game,” he said. “That’s what matters in life.”
Ace, the poet, maybe he should write for Hallmark.

Marty and Frank were already squeezed into our regular booth with two cute blondes leaning over the table with shorts so short they made my dick hurt. They were gathering autographs from the players with a ball they claimed to have caught during practice.

Damn, I don’t remember seeing them at any of the practices; Whitney did have me on a short leash.

They squealed when they saw Ace and me slide into the booth. “Will you sign our balls?” one asked. They both wore ponytails that dangled on each side of their heads and tight blue tank tops that barely contained their double Ds.

Twins. They were fucking twins.

“We’ll sign yours if you sign ours,” Ace teased as he wrapped his arm around my shoulder and laughed at his own joke.

The thought was appealing.

They both bit down on their bottom lips at the same time and tilted their heads as they obviously struggled to get the pun. “Oh,” one finally said, and they both giggled. Whether they truly got it or not, who cared, not me. “That’s a deal,” they said in unison. Holy shit, they share a brain as well. This would almost be too easy,
even for Ace.

They pushed their baseballs towards us, leaning over the table to give us the fantastic view down their tank tops while we each signed our autographs. One pulled a card from her back pocket and pushed it across the table in between both myself and Ace.

“That’s our hotel; the room number is on back, and my cell.” Ace turned the card over, room — #712 Candy and Mandy was written above a cell phone number. He slid it into his shirt pocket and smiled at the girls. “I’ll be there,” he promised.

“Are you coming?” Mandy or Candy asked me directly.
If they didn’t stand up and take their tits from my face soon, yes, I would be coming right in my pants.