Sadie eyes my bedroom. “What the fuck happened in here? I’m disappointed I didn’t find him first.” She throws a condom wrapper at me. And then two more. “Three times? Now who’s the slutty sister?”
“Apparently he went for the triple play,” I note, and then we both start laughing. We lack maturity sometimes. “You know what’s funny about this?” I hold two of the wrappers up.
“What?”
“These were the ones from Collin’s glovebox.”
“Oh shit, really?”
“Yep.”
“Serves the bastard right.”
Sitting up, I look around the room. It’s trashed. My pillows are all over the place, there are pictures off the walls, a dent in my sheetrock, and my mattress is even wonky on my bed.
“Where’d he go?” Reaching for my shirt on the end of the bed, I slip it over my shoulders. “Did you see him?”
“No. But he bought you coffee.” Leaning over, she hands me a coffee and a napkin. With red crayon, he wrote me a note.
“Did he buy yours too?”
She shakes her head. “No. Ez did. I gave him and Remi a ride home this morning.”
“Where’d you sleep?”
“At Diesel’s. We went over there after we left the bar, and Nahla drove your van back here.”
“Oh.” Taking a drink of the coffee, I read the note.
Things you never want your one-night stand to say:
And he bought me coffee. The exact order I made that day I met him.
Warmth fans my cheeks at the memories.
“Were you attacked by a wild animal?”
I glance over at Sadie, holding my iced coffee in my hands. “No, why?”
Smiling, she points to my neck. I have to get up and look in the mirror. He gave me a fucking hickey. Something happens when I’m looking at myself in the mirror.
Who is that woman with the glowing skin and hickey?
I’ll tell you. She’s been fucked, and finally seeing that despite all this shit going on, last night meant a hell of a lot more than Cason might ever know.
Sadie holds up her phone. “Nahla is on her way over with breakfast. She said she has a plan for getting you out of foreclosure.”
I whip around to face her. “Really?” The last thing I want to do is lose this house and Tatum’s only security she has left. I know once I’m back to working at my shop and getting orders out, I can make the house payment. It might be too late, but I’m going to do everything I can to ensure that doesn’t happen.
“Yep. Now get dressed. I can see your bare ass.”
I tug at the hem of my shirt. “Stop looking! Let’s go make me a plan.”
A long foul ball that is usually close to being fair, and typically, would result in a home run if it were fair.
CASON
After leaving Sydney’s house for the second time and being chased by her neighbor’s dog, I head to Ez’s house. I still haven’t turned on my cell phone since I shut it off earlier. I knew after the game I had, there’d be people talking, but I didn’t expect what happened last night. Agents, scouts I’d never heard from, and people I knew growing up but lost touch with were all calling me.
I didn’t want to deal with reality at the moment. I think that’s why I enjoyed my time with Sydney so much. She didn’t care who I was, or the game I had, or that I had three different offers from major league teams on my voicemail from before last night’s game.
She might even know who my dad is, but not once did she mention it. Hell, other than the baseball innuendos and the Tesla incident, we didn’t talk about the game I’ve spent my entire life playing.
I loved that.
It’s quiet for a Sunday morning. Originally from Ensenada, the Rossi family lives right on the cut off of this shady as fuck neighborhood with the cross streets of “you sleep with a knife and your eyes open.” Usually, Luca, his uncle, is out in the driveway washing God knows what off his car. Last week he was scrubbing blood out of his floor mats in the bathtub, so you really never know what to expect when you show up.
Like this morning. With my coffee in hand and feeling pretty fucking good about this morning, that quickly goes out the damn window.
No lie, his uncle is covered in blood, I’m almost certain that’s brain on his flannel, and he’s carrying a shovel. “Heard you had a good game.”
“Uh, yeah.” I’ll admit, his uncle terrifies me. Masking