Reflection (Game On Trilogy #2) (2 page)

His hands, lips, and arms still at my comment.

“I’m sorry,” I twist in his arms so that I can see his beautiful face. “I’m sorry,” I repeat my words. I run the palm of my hands down his cheeks and rest them on his chest.

Brad purses his lips and gazes longingly into my eyes.

I slide my hands around his torso until I lock my fingers together behind his back. He pulls me in tight against him and sways us both back and forth.

Any girl would feel lucky to have him in her corner and I wish that I could be that girl. It just doesn’t feel right at the moment. Brad doesn’t want anything permanent, anyway. I’m not sure of his story, but he clearly has one. Besides, I don’t want to be in anyone’s corner. And especially not since that dumb jock, Derek, expressed his feelings toward me.

Brad pulls back and places a sweet kiss against my forehead. “Call me if you need me.” He whispers.

I nod my head frantically. “I will.” Tears begin to prick at my eyes. I totally blame Derek for this. I don’t cry. Well, not since my freshman year in college.

Brad lays his hands on my cheeks, lifts slightly so that I have to tilt my head back to look up into his eyes. He lowers his head and presses his lips to mine. It’s long, sweet, sexy and final.

He pulls back and wipes at the few tears that managed to make their way down my cheek. “Goodbye, Chels,” and then he turns around and makes his way to my front door. Before exiting, he says, “I meant what I said, call me if you need me. Even if it’s just to talk.”

Derek

I’m staring at this redhead watching her lips move, but I have no idea what she’s saying.

I can’t focus. Not when all I see is Chelsea.

Everywhere.

My only problem is she wants nothing to do with me. Well, that’s not entirely true. She wants me. I can feel it every time we’re together. She just won’t commit to me.

I know she sees other guys and it tears me up. It was fine for a while. Hell, we both started out this relationship with the pretense that we won’t expect anything more from each other than just a good time. And fuck, we have the best time together.

She’s just like me, except for the fact that she is so damn beautiful. Everything about her is perfect. She gets along with the guys on the team, she can hold her own in a poker game, she can throw a ball like a pro, and she is undeniably the sexiest women I have ever been with.

“So you think I should get a cat versus a dog, right?” Shelly asks.

Huh? How did we get on the subject of animals? I know nothing about cats. “Um, yeah. Sure.” I agree.

“Okay. Well, I think I’ll take your advice. I’ll get a cat.”

What kind of advice did I give her? I don’t even remember this conversation. “Yeah, I think that would be a good choice.” I hate cats.

Shelly runs her fingernails up the length of my arm. “Would you like to dance?” she asks.

I look down at her. I really don’t want to dance with her. I can barely get past the whole cat conversation. “I’m sorry, I’m not really feeling up to it.” I really am curious as to what kind of fucking advice I gave her.

“Oh. Okay.” She looks disappointed.

“A raincheck, okay?” There will never be a raincheck. As a matter of fact, there will never be a second date.

Shelly swivels her barstool chair around and stands up. She walks behind me and starts massaging my shoulders. As good as it feels, I can’t have her doing this. I’m sure there are about a dozen pictures taken of us already. I can barely go anywhere without fans sneaking a quick pic and posting it all over social media for the world to see. I don’t use that Facebook crap or Twitter, but from what I hear, there is nothing but gossip and trash talking on them.

I put a halt to Shelly’s wandering fingers and gently lead her back to her chair. I take both of her hands in mine and tell her, “I’m sorry, I think I need to cut this date short.” Suddenly, I’m blinded by a flash. Well, there goes another snapshot. “I’m just not feeling well and I have a long day ahead of me tomorrow.” I look into her eyes to gauge her reaction.

She nods her head slowly. “It’s okay. I understand.” Shit, I hurt her feelings. I would never intentionally hurt a woman’s feelings, but I just can’t seem to get Chelsea out of my mind. “Maybe another time, huh?”

I nod my head. “Besides, you probably need to get your house ready for that cat you’re getting tomorrow.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right. I do have a lot to do.”

I raise my hand to get the attention of the bartender so I can pay for our drinks and get the hell out of here.

I am driving back to my house, alone, when I decide to make a left at the light, heading in the opposite direction.

Moments later, I pull up at a curb adjacent to Chelsea’s condo. I am about to step out of my vehicle when I see a guy exiting her building coming directly from her front door. I grip the steering wheel tight and stay rooted in my seat. “Fuck, Chelsea,” Shaking my head in anger, I pound my closed fist on the wheel, turn the ignition and head home.

I’m not mad at Chelsea for seeing other people. Hell, we both date outside of one another. It just wasn’t until recently when I discovered that my feelings for her grew into something more than what we both bargained for.

I can’t blame her.

I pull up to my castle, well, not a castle, but it’s way bigger than anything I will ever need for just myself. Not having anyone to share it with puts it all into perspective. It never crossed my mind before, not until Chelsea.

I don’t know where I went wrong. I have always been content living my life playing the field. Tied down wasn’t something I ever pictured myself doing until at least the age of thirty-five. I can just kick myself for falling for her.

She’s not like most women I’ve dated though.

Having money and playing for a major league baseball team has its perks, especially when it’s a job that I love, but it also attracts people for all the wrong reasons. Chelsea could care less about what I have and what I can offer her. She accepts me for who I am. Not what I have. I just wish she wanted more from me than a roll in the hay.

I’m in my theater room, stretched out on the couch, watching one of my favorite movies, Field of Dreams, when my cell phone starts ringing. Looking at the display, I swipe the answer button and hold it to my ear.

“It’s a bit late, don’t you think?” I harshly tell my best friend.

“Screw you. I’ll show up on your front door step if you don’t take my call.” Shane jokingly replies to my question.

“Anything for you, bro. You know I’m just kidding. What’s up?” Shane is one of my closest friends and his woman, Alli, is Chelsea’s best friend.

“I just want to make sure you’re still on board for this weekend.” This weekend happens to be one of our only free weekends in between games. Yet, Shane has me running around like crazy making sure everything is perfect for him to propose to Alli. She has no idea.

“I’ve got it all set up, man. No worries.”

“Okay, cool. I’m just getting a little nervous is all.”

“Don’t be. There’s no way she’ll say no to you. She’s in for the long haul, bro.”

It’s quiet on the other end until Shane starts whispering. “I know man. She’s great, isn’t she.” It’s more of a comment than a question. “Hey man, I hear her coming downstairs, I gotta go. I just wanted to make sure everything is still a go.” This dude is nervous as hell. I guess I can’t blame him. It is a big step.

“Don’t worry about a thing. I’ll get with Chelsea and make sure she is still set with her side of the plans.” I assure him.

“Thanks man. I owe you.”

“And I’ll never let you forget it. Night, buddy.”

“Night, man.”

I press the disconnect button and toss my phone on the couch next to me.

This will be the perfect opportunity for me to talk to Chelsea. About the planning, that is.

“Aww, fuck my neck hurts.” I wake up with a sore back and neck from falling asleep on the theater room couch. I rub the palm of my hand over my neck trying to work out the kinks from sleeping on this damn thing. It’s comfortable, but not for overnight sleeping.

After taking a hot shower, I retreat to the kitchen for coffee, orange juice and a banana.

Contemplating how my conversation with Chelsea will go, I smile at the thought of seeing her again. I fire off a text to see if we can meet today to discuss what Shane has planned.

Me: Good morning, beautiful. Do you have time to meet today to go over Shane’s plans?

I hit send then stare at my phone as if watching it will make Chelsea reply to my message faster.
Come on, baby. Where are you?
And as if on cue, she responds.

Chelsea: Yeah, how about we meet for lunch. Does the Mission Restaurant sound good? 12:30?

Me: I’ll see you then. Looking forward to it.

I shouldn’t have said that last part. I don’t want to scare her away. She’s already completely freaked out that I want more from her. I kinda don’t expect to get an answer back from her, but I’d be lying if I hadn’t hoped she would say the same thing in response.

I decide to go for a run on the beach before meeting Chelsea. I need to clear my mind and relax my body before I keep getting myself all worked up about seeing her.

Exhausted from adding an additional two miles to my run, I rip my shirt off then drop to the sand and throw an arm over my face to shield my eyes from the bright sun. My breathing ragged, my chest puffs in and out fast and furious. I forgot to bring a fucking bottle of water. My mouth is dry as all hell.

Eventually, I sit up and rest my folded arms over my bent knees. I stare out over the ocean watching the waves crash on the shore. I am about to get up when I am suddenly hit by a Frisbee on the back.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” I hear a female’s voice coming from behind me. “I’m sorry, I should have caught that one.” I stand up and turn around to see a cute little brunette jogging over to me.

“It’s okay. I’m sure I’ll survive.”

“Are you sure?”

I look her up and down, taking in her beautiful body, nodding my response.

“Here let me at least brush some of this sand off your back.” She reaches out and swipes the palm of her hand across my back. It’s clear she’s flirting with me. It’s just a damn Frisbee not a bucket of wet sand dumped on me.

Her breast presses against my arm and all I can think about is Chelsea’s stunning chest. Fuck me. “Thank you, but I’m fine.” I am totally screwed.

Without giving Frisbee girl any hopes, I lean down, grab my shirt and start jogging back to my home.

I jump in the shower to rinse the sand and any remnants of that woman off me before leaving to see Chelsea for lunch.

Chelsea

Last night was an eye-opener for me. It’s been years since I’ve felt any sort of urge to want something more from a guy. Not since Bryce, anyway.

As much as I love being with Brad, he’s nothing compared to how my body reacts when I’m with Derek. And I was perfectly fine with how things were. I mean, we had it all. Him. Me. My condo. His house. No commitment. Free to see whoever we want. But then he had to go and blow it all to pieces. Feelings for me? I mean really. He knew the rules. Why did he have to go and break them? I guess it just never really crossed my mind until he said the words that the possibility would ever be a reality. But there is just one problem.

Bryce and my baby.

The horror of that day rushes back. I want the memories and the emotions to just go away. Just the thought of them brings me to my knees. I miss them every single day. I would do anything, give anything, to have them back in my life again.

Once again, tears threaten to release.
Please let me make it through this day. God, please.
I beg.
Please let this day get better. I will do anything. Just grant me with what I need to make it through this life without the two most important people in my heart.

My plea’s to continue life without them has me in a complete meltdown on the floor of my bedroom. Tears are flowing freely and my body shakes to the point of making the muscles in my stomach clench in spasms. I swipe away at the wetness on my cheeks and try to gain control before it’s too late. I sit up and lean my back against the bed. I made a promise that day and I vow to keep that promise.

Derek is off limits. At least anything permanent. If he can’t have my friendship, then we can’t have anything at all.

I hear the front door open and close so I quickly jump up and run to the bathroom. Alli must be home from Shane’s.

I rush to turn the shower on so that she doesn’t see me with tears in my eyes. I’m not ready to tell her yet about my previous life. It’s coming though. I can feel it. I will need to tell her eventually, but not yet. I refuse to let my crap ruin this weekend for her. Even though she has no idea what is going on.

This will be one of the most important days of her life, to date, and I refuse to be the one to take that away from her.

“Chelsea, I’m home.” Alli hollers.

“I’m in the shower. I’ll be out in a few.” I yell back.

Stripping off my pajamas, I step into the shower and wash away the guilt that has been left in me for over seven years.

I am in here way longer than I need to be as the water suddenly starts to get cold. I shut it off and reach for a towel from the rack. Wrapping it around me, I step out and dry off.

After I get dressed I meet Alli in the kitchen for a cup of coffee. Neither of us function without the jolt of caffeine to wake us up so neither of us say a word to each other until we at least have one full cup.

Walking into the kitchen, Alli hands me a mug full to the rim. As we both take a careful sip, we stare at one another. The way we left things yesterday afternoon I’m surprised she’s not throwing things at me. She has every right to be mad. I deserve it and I know it.

Lowering my cup, I begin to speak first. Well, at least I try. I can’t seem to get anything past the lump in my throat. I am still so wound up from my morning bout of self-loathing that it’s still too fresh on my mind. So instead, I set my mug down on the counter and walk over the few steps to my best friend and wrap my arms around her.

“Honey, it’s okay.” Alli reassures me. She sets her cup down and returns my embrace with a tight squeeze. She rubs her hands up and down my back letting me know that everything will be fine.

If only that were true.

It will never be fine.

“Sweetie, I’ve been wanting to talk to you.” Alli pulls away from me.

I’m sure she wants to discuss my lack of, what she thinks is, self-respect. She can’t be further from the truth though. I have more respect for myself than anyone can imagine.

“Babe, I would love to, but I’m meeting Derek for lunch.”

“You are?” She sounds way too excited for this news.

“Don’t get your hopes up. It’s just lunch, honey. You know me. I’m sure I’ll be seeing Brad later on for dinner.” I lie. I just don’t want her to get her hopes up.

“Oh,” Alli picks up her coffee cup, holds it up to her lips and says, “That’s kinda what I want to talk to you about.”

Crap. I don’t need to meet Derek for at least another hour, but I feel the need to leave the condo right now. “Sorry babe, but I gotta run.” I pick up my purse and cell phone and make my way to the front door. “We’ll talk later, okay?” Much later. But, I don’t want to tell her that.

I sprint out the door not looking back. If I stay, I know I’ll ruin everything for Alli so leaving is my best option.

I decide to walk to the Mission Restaurant to meet Derek since I have time to spare. When I arrive I am still just a couple of minutes early so I go in and grab a table.

“Hi, I’d like a table for two, please.”

“Absolutely. Is your party here or will they be arriving soon?”

“He should be here in a couple of min . . .” I just so happen to look over and see Derek already sitting in a booth. “Never mind. He’s already here.” I say as I check out Derek from afar.

I start heading his way when he finally sees me. A smile spreads across his tan face as he slides out of his side of the booth.

When I reach the table Derek holds his arms out for me and I easily slide into his embrace. His hand snakes its way around to my lower back, pulling me in flush against his tall frame. His head lowers and tilts to the side. His lips immediately make their way to my ear, his breath is hot and it sends goosebumps down my back. “You look beautiful.” He whispers.

I arch my back and pull my upper body apart enough so that I can look into his eyes. “I’m in cut-off sweats and a tee, Derek. I just walked two miles to get here.” Is he serious? I’m sure I must stink up the place.

“You still look beautiful. But why did you walk? I could have picked you up.” His concerned look searches my face for answers.

“I just needed some fresh air.”

Derek steps aside and lets me slide in next to him in the booth. “Is everything okay?”

I rest my elbow on the table and lay my head in the palm of my hand, turning so I can take a good look at Mr. Third-baseman. “Yeah, everything’s fine.” I smile. He really is a gorgeous man with his chiseled jaw line, athletic build, short dark hair, and not to mention his sexy as hell tattoos. I’ve always loved a man with ink on his body.

Derek looks into my eyes and nods his head slowly as if contemplating my answer. “Ok.”

Suddenly, his tongue slowly glides along his upper lip then he bites down on his lower one, seductively trying to get a reaction out of me. I would love to kiss his lips right now, but I know he would get the wrong impression. Normally, I would jump on his lap at this point and he knows it. I want to. I really do. But, I can’t.

“So, this weekend.” I break the air between us.

Derek turns his head towards his tall glass of water and begins fingering the sweaty water droplets forming on the outside of his glass. “Yeah, my boy is getting nervous. He called me late last night to make sure you and I are on the same page on having everything ready for his big surprise.”

“He has no reason to be nervous, you know. Alli loves him.”

“That’s what I told him.”

“Okay. So, the plan is you will get to the field at what . . . five?”

“Yeah, I’ll get there at five. I already spoke with Bob. He said he’d take care of speaking with whoever it is he needs to talk to to discuss the situation with the field lights.” Derek returns his gaze on me again. “Are you still taking care of the champagne and food?”

I have to turn away from him. This whole talking about planning an engagement thing, must be what has gotten Derek all mushy on me. I can see it in his eyes.
Trust me, I’m not the one for you.
“I already have it taken care of. I have a dozen bottles of bubbly at Bob and Judith’s house, too. The caterers will have the food delivered about thirty minutes prior to Shane and Alli arriving.”

The soft touch of Derek’s fingers pulls on my chin so that I have to face him. He doesn’t say a word and his eyes gaze longingly into my soul. They slowly trace every inch of my face before finally coming to a halt on my lips. He lowers his head until his mouth is mere inches away from mine. I can feel his breath on my skin and his masculine scent encircling me. “Sooo . . . “

Derek clearly wants to go somewhere with this conversation and it scares me. “Derek,” the tone of my voice is barely above a whisper. “I don’t think we should . . .”

He cuts me off before I have a chance to finish. “Dinner.” Is all he says.

My eyebrows rise in confusion.

“Just have dinner with me tonight.” His eyes look sad and I feel like hell for possibly being the cause of it. “Please. I’ll make you dinner.”

“You?” This has gotta be good. Derek, cook? I’ve known him for about six months and I have never seen him cook.

He scrunches his forehead in feign hurt. “Hey, I can cook!”

“Hmm,” I purse my lips and glare at him.

“Let me show you. Tonight. Just one night. We haven’t hung out in a couple of weeks.” He lowers his head, concentrating on something on the table. “I miss hanging out with you.”

I know I am going to kick myself in the morning for this but, “I miss hanging out with you, too. Besides, I think I am actually more curious about your ability to cook.”

Derek holds his hand to his chest. “I’m hurt.”

“Then prove me wrong.” I challenge.

Derek raises his arm and drags the back of his fingers down my cheek and says, “I intend to.” The serious look on his face tells me he has every intention of meeting my challenge, and I highly doubt it has anything to do with his cooking skills.

I am in big trouble.

I need to make it clear to him that what we have has to remain on a friend-to-friend relationship. Well, maybe with the fringe benefits.
Hell, I’m a girl. I got needs!

“Derek, honey.” I turn in my seat so that I face him when I tell him how it has to be.

“Yeah, baby. What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” Oh crap. Why does he have to be so sweet?

“Honey, we’re still . . . you know . . . cool with the way things are, right?” Okay, so I know I’m not being very direct, but I’m just not sure how to go about this.

“Yeah, babe. We’re cool.” I see that look on his face. He may say he’s good with the way things need to be, but his expression is completely contradicting everything he says.