I act like he doesn’t throw me. But he’s in my gravity, and I’m in his. I can practically feel his body, and desire hardens in me.
I don’t want to say no.
“You’re a needy client,” I tell him.
I lick the back of my teeth. This is a bad idea, just like it was a bad idea to let myself think about Orlando when I jerked off in bed last night.
I’ve had plenty of other athletes over to use my gym, but he isn’t other athletes.
“A needy client who could kick your ass at the gym,” Orlando says.
“This weekend,” I tell him, accepting the challenge without another thought. “Let’s see if you can keep up with an old catcher.”
CHAPTERNINE
ORLANDO
Today is the day I try to seduce Troy Frisk again.
It’s a warm summer Saturday, and I’m standing in front of his massive building in downtown Philly. Center City is busy with people, and a bus rumbles noisily down the street behind me.
I’m ready for this. Ready to push his buttons and see if I can get a reaction.
Maybe we’re not going to break the rules and hook up again today. Maybe he really is just going to give me a good ass-kicking at the gym.
But if he’s giving me a chance, I am definitely taking my shot.
The door to the big building buzzes, opening to let me in without a word over the speaker. Inside, after checking in with the desk attendant who was apparently expecting me, I find an elevator.
My mind flashes back to the Boston game. I felt like shit after my performance. Troy didn’t sugarcoat anything, which I appreciate. He was blunt and honest like always.
And somehow, I felt better after I saw him in the locker room. Like my head was on straight again.
I am better than the mistakes I’m making, and I owe it to myself and my team to show up and deliver on my promise.
“Time to shine,” I mutter to myself as I exit the elevator and find his unit, the only door on his side of the long hallway. A good moment later, Troy answers.
“Orlando.”
I grin. He’s wearing gray sweatpants and a t-shirt with the sleeves cut off, ready to work out. The shirt is old, and the worn fabric gives me a whole new appreciation for his thick muscles.
I step inside. “Of course you live two blocks from your office.”
He frowns. “I don’t like to waste time going back and forth.”
Quickly, I throw my eyes around. I can see a comfortable den with a big TV, flannel couches, a baseball and mitt on a side table. Peering around a corner, I notice some kind of home office, maybe a bathroom.
“No need to act shy,” Troy says dryly. “Just scope out the joint.”
I laugh. “Sure.” I kick off my street shoes. “If you insist.”
Being in Troy’s house is weird. Unreal, even. But there’s something about the way he’s scowling at me that’s at least familiar at this point.
Troy gestures toward the back as he starts walking. “This way.” He points to the side. “There’s a bathroom. Another by the gym. You need water?”
We cross by the kitchen, all stainless steel and wooden cupboards. “Brought my own,” I say, lifting my sports bag. “You have people over to work out often?”
“Sometimes.” He glances over his shoulder at me. “Don’t think you’re too special.”
