Page 25 of Curveball

I remembered the look in her eyes when I called her Wildflower. You haven't called me that in years. I've missed it. The way her breath hitched when I pressed my lips to her forehead. How she’d leaned into my touch. Was I really that fucking wrong about her?

At some point, my mom pulled me into a big hug before she left me alone—she had to get back home to help my dad with something. I called Cohen, told him I was headed back to Austin that night instead of in a couple of days, and to meet me at the bar.

"Please. Don’t stop… fuck me harder, Walk." The brunette that was spread out beneath me moaned. Nicole? Nora? Natalie? I don't remember her name, but I continued to slam into her at a punishing pace. After I finished her off, I rolled off the bed and tied off the condom before I threw it in the trash. I stuffed the trash bag into my bag… where she couldn't find it… just in case.

Girls could be nuts, and I've heard horror stories of stolen condoms from other ball players' hotel rooms. When I walked back out, Nora? Yeah, I think it was Nora, was still lying in my hotel bed. Her eyes looked hungry as they raked over my bare chest. I grabbed my shirt from the ground and slipped it over my head. "You want me to call you an Uber?"

"I thought maybe we could have another round, and I could stay the night?" Her deep chocolate eyes looked up at me, hopeful.

"Not tonight, sweetheart. I've got a game tomorrow." We were still in Florida, nearing the end of spring training, and I was having a great time fucking out all of my pent-up anger over Farrah's engagement.

Nora nodded and slipped out from underneath the covers, and I took a moment to peruse her curves one last time, because sue me, I was a guy. She had big tits, a tiny little waist that flared out into luscious curves, and a great ass. The thought of round two crossed my mind before I shook it away. I needed to get some sleep since I was pitching tomorrow.

After Nora got herself dressed, she placed her hand on my chest, leaned up onto her toes, and placed a kiss against my lips. I placed my hand on her throat and deepened the kiss.

Ah, what the fuck, why not?

After I grabbed another condom from the nightstand, I stalked towards her, moved my hands beneath her ass, lifted her up, wrapped her legs around my waist and pressed her up against the wall. Luckily, she was wearing a dress, so I shoved my shorts down, pushed her panties to the side, and impaled her on my cock as she screamed my name.

I woke up the next morning to pictures of Nora and me splashed across the tabloids. This was quickly becoming my new normal, but I didn't give a fuck. My pitching was still solid, and as long as I had that, I didn't care about much else. After our last spring training game, a bunch of us decided to go out to a club before we flew back to Texas the following day.

We had a VIP section in the back of the club and several good-looking women surrounding us. I was about five drinks in at this point, feeling solid, when a sexy little blonde straddled my lap. She raked her nails up and down my chest. "Hey, I'm Sarah. You pitched great today. You want to come dance with me?"

Cohen sat next to me with a hot redhead on his lap. "Yeah, James, why don't you go dance with her?" He gripped the girl’s ass as she leaned forward and started to kiss up his neck. Cohen dropped his head back against the couch. "Fuck, I love being a ball player."

I chuckled and turned my attention back to Sarah, running my hands up and down her thighs. "How about we go back to my hotel room instead?" Desire flashed across her blue eyes as she nodded, running her hands through my hair.

Ignoring the flashing cameras, Sarah and I walked hand in hand down the sidewalk leading to my hotel. Once we were inside the elevator leading up to my room, Sarah dropped to her knees and sucked me off. It was a pretty solid blow job, so I knew the night wouldn't disappoint.

And I was right.

Sarah was a dancer and was very flexible. We fucked three times before I sent her on her way and slipped under the covers to try to get some sleep before our flight back to Texas in the morning. I grabbed my phone and began aimlessly scrolling through it. My DMs were out of control lately, and I had a ton of photos of half-naked women in my inbox.

Life didn't suck.

After browsing through some of the photos, I checked out my main feed, and sure enough, pictures of me and Sarah were already up across all of the gossip accounts. I sighed as I put my phone back on the nightstand. I knew I was going to get an earful from Scott about the pictures tomorrow. He had told me on more than one occasion that he was concerned about my drinking, my partying, and the number of girls I was openly fucking around with.

I told him until my pitching suffered, who the fuck cared?

Chapter 13

Farrah

5 Years Ago

"Will you marry me?" Jake punctuated his speech with the question while down on one knee next to our table at a very public restaurant in my hometown of Forest Park. All eyes in the restaurant were glued on me, awaiting my answer. I rubbed my now-clammy hands down my dress. Was it hot in here? I hated a scene; I was naturally a more introverted person, and this was basically my worst nightmare. I thought after being together for three years that Jake would know that.

The beautiful princess-cut solitaire diamond winked up at me while Jake looked nervous as fuck. The apprehension written all over his face softened my heart a bit. This was not how I’d seen our Valentine's Day dinner playing out. I loved Jake, I really did, and my toxic trait was being a people pleaser, so naturally, I put him and the rest of the restaurant out of their misery and said yes.

Jake slipped the ring onto my finger before grabbing my face, kissing me, and lifting me up to twirl me around, again, in a very public restaurant. The rest of the patrons cheered and congratulated us.

And me?

I was mortified.

I should have been more excited, right? This great guy, who loved me, had just proposed, and I was now engaged. I should have been calling my friends and family, gushing over it all—but I wasn’t. When Jake and I returned home that night, we didn't even have sex. He wanted to, but I wasn't feeling it, so I said I didn't feel very well, and we went to bed. Now I was sitting at my kitchen table with my coffee at the crack of dawn, drowning in thoughts of Walker.

Christmas Eve had changed things. Being with Walker again after so many years apart felt like coming home. The comfort, the attraction, the love—it was all still very much there. Nothing even happened between us that night, or on the days that followed, when we found ways to spend time together.