Locker Room Page 3

  Farrah groaned. “Come on, Gracie! This is a memory you’ll have for the rest of your life! You’ll be a little old lady in some home somewhere in the Midwest, knitting a sweater, and grinning to yourself about the night you fucked Justin Calloway! Girl, those memories will keep you hotter than some damn sweater!”

  For a moment I was envious of Farrah’s devil-may-care attitude.

  I flopped back on the couch, no longer interested in the meal I’d prepared. “That’s not the way it’s supposed to go, Farrah.”

  “Puh-lease. You could do a lot worse for your first time. Trust me. My first time was in the backseat of a run-down Jetta with my high school boyfriend, Jesse. He had sweaty palms and had no idea what he was doing. I think the whole thing lasted less than five minutes from start to finish.”

  I winced. That certainly wasn’t appealing. But there had to be something between sweaty, nervous teenage lovers and hooking up with an older random baseball player who wouldn’t remember your name in a week.

  “At least you cared about each other. There was something real there. Right?”

  Farrah sighed. “I guess. But I’ve had far hotter sex with random club guys.”

  I weighed her words. That was really the crux of the whole dilemma. I could go out and hook up with anyone—Justin, some guy from a bar or a coffee shop—or I could wait until I was in a real relationship. Although, that didn’t seem like it was anywhere close to happening.

  It didn’t make sense to get invested when I was planning to leave Florida behind as soon as I had my diploma in hand. I’d probably go home to Oklahoma and spend a few weeks, maybe months, to find a job and then move again. It’d be a year before I was settled and ready to put myself out there. Which three days ago had been fine with me.

  But now—since meeting Justin—I was suddenly antsy.

  “I’ll think about it,” I told the phone when I leaned forward and grabbed my fork. “But for now, I’m gonna dig into my dinner, so unless you want to hear me slurpin’ and burpin’, I should probably let you go.”

  Farrah laughed. “Yeah, thanks.”

  “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  “You better.”

  I clicked off of the call and dug into the pile of pasta on my plate. I swirled the fork and let my thoughts twist and tangle together like the noodles. My body was crystal clear in its standing—let myself fall for Justin’s dimpled smile and have a fun night or two of meaningless passion. My mind remained unconvinced. And my heart was screaming to run the other direction. Just as Justin had advised.

  So why wasn’t I listening?

  Things only got more confusing the next day. When I arrived at work and took my place at the stat table, everyone was giving me strange looks. It continued for most of the morning. A strange feeling that I was being watched and that whispers that were just out of reach for me to discern, were somehow about me. Finally, after lunch, I’d had enough and confronted Blake, one of the guys who’d worked the stats booth with me the year before. I cornered him outside the men’s room with my hands planted on my hips. “What the hell is everyone’s problem?”

  He reared back. “Geeze, Grace. You scared the shit out of me!”

  “Why is everyone looking at me like I sprouted a third eye or something?”

  He glanced around and then placed a hand on my shoulder and steered me out of the way of others coming and going to the restrooms. “Chill out,” he chided.

  “Don’t tell me to calm down. I had to deal with enough of this crap back in high school. I’m a grown ass woman now and I won’t have people gossiping about me behind my back. What is going on?”

  Blake gave a solemn nod and slipped his hands into the pockets of his workout shorts. “Nothing really…”

  I narrowed my eyes.

  “All right, fine. I guess some people saw you last night after the shift. With Calloway.”

  I rolled my eyes. “And?”

  “Listen, I’m sure it’s not true—”

  “What? What’s not true?”

  Blake looked around, as if waiting for someone to come bail him out of the uncomfortable conversation. When he dragged his eyes back to me, he shrugged. “That you’re not sleeping with Calloway.”

  My cheeks warmed and I ducked my chin, letting my hair fall forward before he noticed the furious blushing. “That’s what they think? Because I was sitting at a picnic table with him?”

  I glanced up and Blake shrugged. “I guess so.”

  “That’s just—just—ridiculous!”

  Blake’s face twisted, like he wasn’t sure what to do with me and a flash of heat hit the bottom of my stomach and twisted into a tight ball. “I’m sorry,” I mumbled and then hurried off in the other direction.

  Why did everything have to be so complicated? Why me? I was never the flashy girl who begged for attention. I never wanted the spotlight. In fact, I went out of my way to avoid it. All throughout my school years, I ducked and dodged events that required me to be on stage. I sat in the back row for assemblies and choir concerts. I never entered the science fair or talent show. In junior high, I was selected for an award following a week of community service, and I played sick on the day of the award ceremony so I wouldn’t have to walk across the stage in front of everybody.

  I certainly hadn’t asked for Justin’s attention, and I didn’t want to deal with the consequences now that I had it.

  Hesitant and pissed off, I went to the table near the playing field and took my place. I pulled my tablet from the messenger bag I carried most everywhere and slipped on my sunglasses. It wasn’t quite bright enough to need them but I wanted to block out the world. Including—no, especially—Justin!

  He jogged onto the field and my eyes snapped in his direction. If I was a moth, I’d have been toast a long time ago.

  He grinned over at me and my heart flip-flopped in my chest. Good grief.

  It didn’t help that my entire job was to—in fact—pay attention to him. Stats for practices were easy. The real fun would start the next day with the first exhibition game. I knew Justin would be playing. But at least the other players had started to arrive and help dilute the pool. As it was, only having a handful of pitchers, made it hard not to pay attention to Justin.

  And he ate it up.

  Every perfect pitch he threw demanded a look my way. He was making sure my eyes stayed on him and him alone. I swiveled my head in the direction of another player but couldn’t help sliding my eyes back to watch Justin as he wound up for another pitch. His body moved with such fluid grace it was like watching a performance. Then, when the ball launched from his skilled hands, it was sheer power and breathtaking force. I’d seen a lot of pitchers in my lifetime. Justin was one of a kind. A player that would be talked about long after his professional playing days were over. He’d go on to be in the hall of fame, speak all over the country and would no doubt land a cushy coaching or reporting job when his body—likely his shoulder—finally begged for his retirement.

  Blake came to the table a few minutes into the session and gave me a strange look. I wanted to snap at him but realized he wasn’t my issue. It wasn’t even really the people gossiping about me. That was only natural, wasn’t it? No, the real problem here was Justin. He needed to just leave me alone. Why wouldn’t he take a hint?

  He smiled my way and my stomach fluttered again. Worse than his stubborn streak was the sinking feeling that if he suddenly shifted his attention from me, and found another target, I’d be left devastated.

  Ugh.

  The rest of the day went on without a hitch. When three o’clock hit, I dug some change from my wallet, slipped it into my pocket, and headed out to the vending machines. I glanced around, looking for any sign of Justin. I didn’t want to be caught off guard a third time in the same place. When it was clear he wasn’t going to make an appearance, my heart sank. Which only made me more irritated. With myself. With him. With the whole damn thing.

  Back inside, I stopped short, realizing that
my abandoned chair was no longer vacant. Nope. Justin Calloway had plunked himself down and was chatting away with Blake and the rest of the stats team as though they were sitting at a bar, sharing a pitcher of beer. I looked over my shoulder, mentally debating what to do, when Justin turned, a wide grin on his handsome face, and beckoned me forward.

  Crap.

  All eyes swiveled my way and I stumbled forward. With scurrying steps, I made my way to the table. Justin hopped up as I approached the table and ushered me back into my seat like some kind of English gentleman. Seriously. He was just missing the top hat and coat tails.

  I frowned at his gallant gesture and slid into my seat, immediately scooping up my pen. I shoved my sunglasses back on my face and tried to ignore the large man lingering beside me.

  “How am I looking?” Justin asked me, a hint of humor in his voice.

  I sputtered. “Uhm, you look fine.”

  “I think he meant his numbers…” Blake pointed out with a pained cringe. The other two at the table hid their giggles.

  My cheeks warmed and Justin chuckled softly. “Shit,” I said under my breath, not daring to lift my gaze upward.

  The other players on the field were wandering off, back to the locker room. I frowned. “Are we ending early today?”

  “Yeah. We decided to form a little mutiny so we could get an afternoon off and go to the beach,” Justin answered. “You guys are off the hook.”

  “Oh.”

  Beside me, the other three got up, taking their laptops and tablets with them. “See you tomorrow, Justin,” one of them called as they all wandered off.

  I watched them go but remained paralyzed in my seat. Justin rounded the table and took Blake’s empty seat beside me. “They all think we’re together, you know,” I told him once he had leaned back in the plastic chair.

  He kicked his feet up on the table. “So?”

  I snapped around to face him. “What do you mean so? That doesn’t bother you?”

  Justin shrugged. “I’ve dealt with rumors my entire career. It’s nothing new. Besides, who cares what anyone else thinks?”

  “I do,” I replied softly.

  “Why?” he asked, his tone genuine.

  I fumbled “I—well—I just do…”

  Justin lowered his feet to the ground and then leaned over. Gently, he removed the sunglasses from my face. I looked down at my hands, twisting together in my lap. He tipped my chin up with two fingers and held my stare. “It doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks or what they say. About you, me, us.”

  Us? The single, tiny word took on a pulse of its own as it dangled between our lips. He moved in closer. My eyes, suddenly heavy, started to slide closed.

  “Come on,” he said, taking my hand.

  My eyes flew to his, my mouth ready to object.

  He grinned down at me as he rose from the bench, tugging me up with him. “You’ll like it. I promise.”

  “Justin, I—”

  He leaned in, stealing away my protest. “Let yourself go, Gracie. What’s the worst that could happen?”

  Was he for real? I could list a dozen terrible things that could happen. The loose and free lifestyle might work for some people. I just wasn’t one of them. Life was a carefully calculated assessment of risks, benefits, odds of success and failure. In order to know whether or not going with Justin was a good idea, I needed more information.

  What can I say? Data is kinda my life.

  Justin’s eyes darkened. “Just trust me.”

  And just like Dorothy, thrown into a new reality, courtesy of a tornado, so was I on the way to something new and foreign…and dangerous.

  5

  Justin

  To my surprise, getting Grace to go along with me was easier than I’d expected. Once I convinced her to leave the stadium with me, she became pliable. Sure, I was still standing in the shadows of the mile-high wall she built up, but she wasn’t fighting off my attention anymore. In some ways she reminded me of a doe. Spooked and frozen. I had no doubt that I could get her to unwind and relax when we were alone, away from prying eyes and whispers.

  And damn it if she didn’t look even sexier in the passenger seat of my Ferrari.

  “What kind of music do you like?” I asked her, reaching for the illuminated touch screen. “It’s satellite so the choices are pretty much endless.”

  She tore her eyes away from the window and glanced at the screen. “What do you like?”

  I flicked to my favorite station, an eclectic mix station that played a little bit of everything. “I’m not picky when it comes to music.”

  Unless it was being played in the bedroom. Then I had very specific tastes.

  Grace smiled slightly and gave a nod. “I grew up in Oklahoma, actually. Most people would assume I like country music and they’d be right.”

  I chuckled. “That’s great. From what I’ve seen, you could rock the hell out of some Daisy Duke’s.”

  She blushed and it turned me the fuck on. Whenever I complimented her, she acted like it was the first time anyone had ever said anything like that to her. Something I found hard to believe.

  “Where are we going?” she asked, shifting her focus back out the front windshield.

  “The beach.” I glanced at her out of the corner of my eye. Her expression didn’t change. “Do you like the beach?”

  “Yeah. Sure.” She smiled a little wider. “It would be kind of silly to pick a school in Florida if I didn’t…right?”

  I chuckled. “Fair enough. You been here all four years?”

  “Yeah. The first two years I went home during the summer, but now I have an apartment and stay here most of the time year round.”

  “What part of Oklahoma are you from?”

  “Oklahoma City.”

  My eyebrow lifted. “Really?”

  She ducked her chin. “Yeah.”

  “So, you a big Warriors fan then? You gonna be cheering me on when the season starts?”

  She laughed and I sat back, letting the gentle sound wash over me. “I guess I’ll have to…” She shot me a look that bordered on sassy.

  Finally! Some spark! I knew it was there.

  What other facets was she hiding just out of sight? I grinned, relishing in the journey ahead. I’d uncover all of her secrets. She’d surrender her trust to me. Time. All I needed was time.

  “Do you like it so far?” she asked. “Oklahoma City, I mean.”

  I shrugged. “I haven’t had much of a chance to go out. I moved up two weeks ago and spent most of that time unpacking. Some great take-out places nearby. That’s all I know.”

  Grace smiled. “That’s a start, I suppose.”

  “Will you be there when school is out this summer?”

  “I don’t know yet.”

  I turned off the highway and whipped around the curved road leading away from the main road. I’d spent enough time in Vero Beach to know the hot spots during spring training. Grace likely knew them too. That wasn’t what I wanted though, and I had a feeling it wasn’t really her thing, either. I didn’t need loud, frat house music, a bunch of meatheads fist-pumping around a keg, and I certainly didn’t need a bunch of jealous bitches spooking her just as I finally got her to relax and open up.

  No, it would be just me and her.

  The headlights sensed the low light as the sun began to set and flashed on. “There’s this little tavern out here that I swear, has the best damn fish and chips of anyplace I’ve ever been.”

  “Cooper’s,” Grace said with a smile.

  Our eyes met in the soft light of the interior of the cab and we smiled at one another. “That’s the spot.”

  The road wound through the small beach-side community and I took the streets like a local. Ten minutes later, I found a front row spot and pulled in. There were three other cars in the lot. It was one of those local legends that didn’t get a lot of press but had the best food. In all the years I’d been coming to Vero Beach, I’d made it a point to get to Cooper’s
at least a few times. It was one place I could count on for a slice of peace and quiet among the press events, preseason interviews, and endless noise and chatter among players, coaches, and team execs.

  And it was the perfect place to get closer to Grace. Then, when dinner was over, the ocean was only steps away and if I was lucky, I’d get her to tap into the secret side of herself she kept tucked away.

  Halfway through dinner, I was dying to have her. Every move she made put my thoughts into overdrive. The way she pursed her lips around her straw had me dreaming of them wrapped around my cock. I bet her sweet lips were as soft as velvet. She had no idea what she was doing to me, but I liked it.

  Other dudes in the restaurant looked her way. I encouraged them to put their eyes back in their skulls with a glower. No one else was going to get so much as a pick-up line or suggestive smile in as long as I was around.

  Grace didn’t even notice the extra attention. I’d watched her for a few days and already knew she had no fucking clue how damn beautiful she was. Not one single clue.

  In fact, she didn’t seem to notice much of anything. Her eyes scanned the room but didn’t stop long enough to take any of it in. It was more that she couldn’t seem to stay still. Let alone rest her eyes on me. She was closed up tight. Guarded. But when I caught her sneaking peeks, her cheeks went red, and I knew her mind was thinking about something other than the food.

  “Can I ask why you don’t drink?” I asked, leaning back as the end of the meal approached. I’d ordered a whiskey on the rocks and was still nursing it. She’d turned down my offer to buy her a drink or split a bottle of wine.

  Grace looked up and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. She ducked her chin for a moment and then met my eyes, one of the first times since we’d sat down. “It’s—well, it’s not something I really talk about. Normally, I just say I don’t like the way it tastes. But…” she trailed off as her eyes bounced from mine. Searching for something.