Three Stries

Per our tradition, the DONNAS and I got ready for the game at my house and showed up at the park looking fabulous...as always. Although we got ready together, I needed to switch over my laundry so I left after them, driving myself to the game. We were playing Landry's again, which was awesome because their team rocked and they weren't afraid to have a good time. Ever since playing Hanks, we were extra appreciative of teams that weren't complete assholes.

I was walking from the parking lot to the field when I was grabbed from behind and dragged, kicking and screaming, behind the equipment shack. My heart went from zero to three hundred as tried to free myself from my attacker.

"

You fucking son-of-a-bitch

!

You scared the shit out of me

!" I yelled while slapping the crap out of his strong, muscular frame.

He tried to use his arms as shields against my powerful blows, but they were no match for me.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Fuck, stop hitting me!" he said, laughing at my reaction.

I finally stopped. I crossed my arms and narrowed my eyes at Shane. I hadn't seen him very much since last weekend. We were supposed to go out Wednesday, but I ended up working all week, including today. So, I'd only seen him between practices on Monday and Wednesday and, since we weren't technically dating, there wasn't much we could do besides say hello. I guess I was a little grumpy.

"What's with the kidnapping? Why couldn't you come up to me like a civilized person and say hello?"

"Honestly?" He raised his brow, challenging me to accept.

"Well, I sure as shit don't want you to lie to me, so yeah, honesty would be nice."

He stepped forward, slid his arms around my waist, and pulled me flush against his body. When he spoke, his voice was deep and sultry.

"I had a great time with you last weekend and it made me miss you all week. I was bummed when you had to cancel Wednesday, and it took all of my willpower not to stop by your house unannounced. I also wanted to do this."

I melted when he kissed me. It was a perfectly respectable kiss and he ended it way too soon, long before I could add a dash of slutty.

"But I couldn't do that in front of everyone. Although, I

was

tempted."

"Oh." I bit my lip.

I was still reeling from the attempted kidnapping and then being unexpectedly kissed. But having Shane wrapped around me affected me the most. He leaned into me again. I thought he was going to kiss me, but instead he brushed his lips against my neck, which did all sorts of tingly things to my body.

"I was wondering," he pressed his lips harder against my skin.

I closed my eyes and mumbled something to encourage him to continue.

"Maybe I can come over after the game?"

His lips pressed to another spot on my neck and it was no less drug inducing than the last one.

"I don't know?"

He stilled, releasing his lips from my neck. I placed my hand on the back of his head and gently returned his lips to my neck—I definitely wasn't done enjoying the attention. I heard him chuckle.

A moment later he placed his hands on my ass, lifted me up, and pushed me back against the equipment shed.

I wrapped my legs around his waist as he continued to kiss my neck in the new and much more convenient position. I stroked my fingers through his hair, encouraging him to keep going.

"I've worked every day since Sunday, sixty-six hours, and I'm dead tired," I said in a whisper.

I moaned, partially due to being exhausted and partially due to being wrapped around Shane's hips with his hands grabbing my ass and his lips caressing my neck.

"We can watch a movie."

Kiss

"I just want to be around you."

Kiss

"And once I'm passed out on the couch?" I asked.

"I'll carry you to bed."

Kiss

"And you'll lock the front door before you go home?"

He started kissing me properly on the lips again. I should've stopped him because I was going to be late for warm ups, but it felt good to have his body pressed against mine. I loved the taste of him on my lips. In the end, it was the growing bulge in my pants that forced me to break away. My one-size-too-small pants weren't going to hide anything.

My breathing was heavy and my chest was heaving lightly as I looked into his deep-brown eyes and ran my fingers through his hair one last time—you know, for good measure.

"I have to go. I'm pitching this game. Are you going to stay and watch?" I asked, still wrapped around his hips.

He told me he would. He reluctantly set me down and laughed as I adjusted myself—it didn't matter how I worked it, it was obvious what was going on in my pants. Shane grabbed my bag and carried it to the field for me. I thought his carrying my bag was a bold move, considering the fact we'd only hung out twice and he seemed like one of those guys that's against any sort of PDA.

I couldn't hold my smile back. If he'd given me his letterman's jacket, we'd be straight out of Pleasantville— the colored version since he'd already fucked me, I blew him in public, and he'd just finished dry humping me behind the shed.

He handed me my bag after we reached the dugout and I playfully batted my eyelashes.

"Aw, gee. Thanks Chip, for carrying my bag. Maybe we can go get a milkshake at the diner this weekend and you can give me your class ring. Who knows, maybe we'll go for a drive and end up at the overlook—you know, just to talk."

I teased him with my best Southern or Midwestern accent. I'd never been good at accents so it probably didn't sound like either, but Shane got the point I was making and faux-punched my cheek before saying.

"You're impossible."

"You have

no

idea."

I winked and sauntered into the dugout. The game was going to start in five minutes and I needed to get some pitches in. I was digging through my bag, trying to find my mitt when Nick and Nelly came in and started talking to each other.

"You know what I saw earlier, Nelly?"

"No, what did you see, Nick?"

By the sound of their voices, it was obvious they weren't talking to each other. I was curious what it was about since it was clearly aimed at me.

"Well, I was sitting here, minding my own business and waiting for our pitcher to arrive so he could warm up, when I looked past the park."

He pointed at the vast horizon of the ballpark. The park is was large and contained three fields in total.

"It's quite a lovely view, Nick."

"Yes, it is quite lovely. Imagine my shock when I spotted two guys defiling our beautiful park by going at it behind the equipment shed. You'd think it was a nice private spot, but it turns out we have a perfect view from here."

I turned around and stared down the park and, sure as shit, the back of the equipment shed was in clear view.

"Imagine the level of slut someone would have to be to do something like that in a family atmosphere like this. I bet he's the type of person who

barebacks

a one night stand."

"Fuck you guys," I laughed as I grabbed my glove and walked out of the dugout

My friends are such assholes, but I love the shit out of them. They jogged up along either side of me as I walked across the field and alternated questions in rapid fire.

"Details! So, are you guys dating?"

"Is Shane your boyfriend?"

"Did he blow you?"

"Did you blow him?"

The alternated questions.

"No, we're not dating. No, he's not my boyfriend. We're only getting to know each other. Did you say you saw everything?"

"Nah, we only saw like thirty seconds before he set you down. I thought maybe we'd missed the good stuff."

"Well, I don't kiss and tell," I walked off before they could continue badgering me and found Sammy so I could throw some pitches.

*** *** *** ***

We played great that game. It was the first game we'd played hard during the entire game—no facade, no shows, no deception. We decided it was how we'd play the rest of the season.

I threw three innings (all no-hitters) and as a team, we had very few errors, which resulted in a 14-3 victory for us. I was pumped as we left the dugout. Everyone was talking about going out and celebrating our

almost

flawless game, but I didn't have it in me. Now that the game was over, all I could think about was sleep. If I went out, I knew I'd pass out after the first drink.

The DAKS had come to watch our game. It had become a habit for them and us to watch each other's games whenever possible, especially since it would likely be our teams vying for the championship. I told everyone I was going to go home, but they were pressuring me to go out. They offered to buy my drinks and begged me not to call it a night.

Shane was obviously annoyed that his friends were interfering with his personal plans and was trying to nonchalantly advocate for me to go home. He kept looking at me as if he was thinking,

omg, I wish they'd shut up already so we can leave.

I smiled at his adorableness and decided to shut down the whole conversation, once and for all.

"It's not going to happen. I'm pooped. I'm going home to shower then I'm gonna put on my comfy pajamas, turn on a movie, and pass out before the beginning credits finish rolling. If I'm lucky, I won't wake up until lunch tomorrow, but you guys have fun tonight and I'll see you all Monday."

There was a little moaning and groaning, but soon their attention turned to the night ahead, which no longer included me so I decided to leave. Shane was about to follow me when he caught the attention of the masses.

"You're coming though, right Shane?"

"Well, actually, I was planning on calling it an early night, also."

"The fuck you are! You're coming with us!"

I looked back to find him looking at me like a fish out of water and begging for help. I threw him a peace sign and continued walking. As much as I wanted him to come over, he was on his own. I wanted to sleep without disturbance. In the end, the cards would land where they may.

*** *** *** ***

I was sure Shane had been roped into going out for drinks because, by the time I'd finished taking a shower and getting dressed, he still hadn't arrived. Sure I was bummed, but I was also too tired to really care about much of anything. I picked out a movie and had settled myself on the couch when I heard the doorbell. I walked downstairs, greeted Shane at the door, and invited him in.

"If I didn't know better, I'd think you didn't want me to come over tonight," he said as we walked upstairs.

I looked back at him, confused as to why he'd think such a thing.

"When everyone was busting your chops about going out, I defended you and told them to leave you alone, but when they started riding me about the same thing, all I got was a peace sign and a trail of dust."

He flopped down onto the couch beside me and waited for my apology. I was about to say something when I was hit by a level five yawn that made my eyes water, followed by another tremor yawn immediately after so I laid down and started to adjust my position until I was cozy.

"I don't know why you're complaining. You made it here so you must not have needed my help after all."

He was watching me closely and, once I was settled, he squeezed himself between the couch and me and pulled me in close to his chest.

"You really are tired, aren't you?"

I nodded and pressed play before setting the remote where he could find it later. I turned so my back was to the TV and my front was flush with Shane's before I snuggled into his warmth with another giant yawn.

"Jason Bourne? I thought we were going to watch a romantic comedy or something," his voice was soft, with a breeze of humor.

Surprised he'd be interested in those movies, I asked, "Is that what you want to watch?"

"No, not at all. I just figured those were the kinds of movies you like."

Asshole

. I narrowed my eyes at his chest. If I hadn't been three seconds away from passing out, I would've shared a couple of choice words about him assuming I suffer from a lack of testosterone. Why was it, just because I liked to look good and not present myself as an overly jocular male all of the time, somehow it meant I'd rather relate to being a woman?

I was pissed and tired, but I had enough inner strength left in me to manage a sarcastic whisper, "Surprise." In my head, I gave him a snazzy rendition of Bob Fosse's jazz hands before closing my eyes.

*** *** *** ***

The next morning, I woke up (alone) on the couch. I looked at the clock and realized I'd slept for fourteen hours, which made me smile. I needed every minute of it. I laid there for a while longer. I checked my social media and watched stupid videos before finally getting up and going to the kitchen around noon.

There was a note on the kitchen table.

I let myself out and locked the door behind me. I was tempted to leave it unlocked so I could surprise you in the morning but I didn't think you'd appreciate it. Call me if you want...or not. Just don't text, that's lame.

Besides, I want to hear your voice.

Shane

555-555-5555"

I sat there and contemplated whether or not to make him sweat it out or call him. I twirled the note between my fingertips as I paced around the kitchen. With my phone in one hand and the note in the other, I decided to give him a call.

"Hello?"

"Hey."

"Hey," he breathed. "I'm glad you called."

"Well, you know, texting is so

lame

," I mocked.

His laugh was deep and humorous.

"Anyway, I was wondering if you had plans today or if you wanted to hang out later?" I asked.

"I'm not doing anything. I could come over now."

"Slow your roll. I need at least an hour. I just woke up."

"Oh, come on pretty boy. You don't need to spend so much time on your hair. You look fine, more than fine," He laughed the same deep, sexy laugh as always.

"

Shane, stop

," I warned.

I was annoyed and I let it show in my tone. It was one thing for the DONNAS to shoot comments like that back and forth, but in general, those comments really struck a nerve with me. It was annoying to constantly be stereotyped into a lime-green jello shooter of expectation instead of people seeing me as an individual—beyond the way I looked or how I acted—because those two things had little to do with who I was as a person.

"I'm serious. Guys shouldn't take an hour to get ready. And for the record, you

don't

need to impress me."

His voice was light but I was seething at his words. I couldn't help but think it was stupid of me to believe he wasn't a jerk or to have hoped he was the sweet and semi romantic person I'd seen glimpses of and desperately wanted him to be.

"That's great because I don't do it to impress you

,

or anyone else for that matter."

"Don't be sensitive about this," his voice was still teasing but his words were bruising.

"

You're an asshole

."

I hung up and turned my phone to Do Not Disturb. There was no recovering from this conversation, at least, not right then. I knew it was a little rash of me to hang up, but if I'd told him I'd talk to him later, I knew he'd try to convince me otherwise.

I showered, got ready (at a pace I deemed necessary), and went about my day. It was especially hot for July—we didn't typically get scorching weather, so I dressed in shorts, an old T-shirt, and tennis shoes. I was definitely slumming it compared to my usual attire. Part of me wanted to shove it into Shane's face.

See, bitch? I don't always have to look perfect. I can dress like a 'typical male', too.

I wanted to lie out naked under the sun and catch some full body rays, but I had a feeling Shane would drop by unannounced so I decided to go out. I had the perfect place in mind so I got in my Toyota and took off. I was on the highway, a half mile or so from my house, when I saw a familiar black truck coming in my direction. I instantly knew who it was.

We passed each other on the road and if I thought I could pass him on the sly, I'd be very wrong. He'd noticed me, no doubt about it. From the moment he saw me he didn't take his eyes off of me until his neck couldn't turn any further and we finally passed each other. I, on the other hand, was glad I had sunglasses on because I gave an Oscar worthy performance of

I didn't just mutually stare you down as I drove by

.

Nope, I turned my head to the right just enough to pretend I was looking elsewhere. As soon as he passed me, I followed his truck in my rear view mirror, which was good because if I hadn't, I wouldn't have seen him flip a bitch in the road to start chase.

He probably didn't know it, since he was too busy

assuming

I spent all of my time watching Nicholas Sparks' movies, but I'm an avid Jason Statham fan. He'd better fucking believe I embraced my inner Statham and got the hell out of there when I saw him come after me. I pulled off of the road, took a couple of false turns that led nowhere in particular, and followed a few back roads until I felt it was safe to reenter the highway, at which time I drove the rest of the way to Carson's Sports Training.

I figured it would've busy since it was a hot Saturday in July, but as it turned out, most people had other things to do besides hitting the batting cages. I bought twenty dollars' worth of batting tokens and set out to blow off some steam.

There was a small group of high school kids watching me in the fast-pitch cage and, after a few tokens, they finally found the courage to ask for advice. They were cool kids and we spent the next few hours rotating in and out of the cages. I did what I could to help them and was surprised to see marginal improvement along the way.

I gladly accepted their invitation to take a break, hangout, and eat pizza with them at pizzeria next door. I actually had a lot of fun with them and I thought about how great it would be to do high school over again, but with my current knowledge and maturity. Heck, I would've loved to redo college with my current knowledge and maturity.

I finally left around five thirty. Obviously, I didn't spend the whole time batting, but I probably did hit a few more balls than I should have and I knew I was going to feel it the next day. It was worth it though because there was

nothing

like having a ninety-mile-per-hour, consistently accurate, pitch coming at you over and over, again. Men's league had

some

good pitchers, but

not

that

good

.

I decided to stop at a super-sketchy Mexican fast food joint I loved. It was always a mistake, but they had the best burritos with potatoes, veggies, steak, and other stuff. It was a rarity, a guilty pleasure I savored every time.

During the rest of the trip home, I thought about Shane. I'd managed to mostly

not

think about him all day, but as it usually does, the battle failed at some point. There wasn't much to think about, though. Sure, I liked him and I knew there was a good person deep inside him because I'd seen it.

I decided I wasn't going to make any rash decisions. I liked him but I wasn't going to tolerate those comments about my personal life, and that's

exactly

what I was going to tell him. What he did with that information would be up to him.

I pulled onto my street feeling confident, mature, and hopeful. I decided to wait for Shane to reach out and then I'd lay my cards on the table. He'd grovel, I'd forgive him, he'd be in the dog house and do all sorts of things to make it up to me, I'd resist for a while, and then things would be good.

I wondered how long it'd take before Shane would reach out to me, then I remembered he'd been calling me all day. As I wondered whether or not to make him work a little more before talking to him, I pulled up to my house and saw his truck parked at the curb.