Chapter Twelve

Grace

Justin kept his promise, refusing to leave my side for the rest of the practice session—much to his trainer’s and coach’s chagrin—and sat beside me on the bench all through the exhibition game. Neither of us saw Nathan Bailey again that night and while I was relieved, I couldn’t shake the feeling of being violated .

As soon as things wound down, Justin wasted no time in getting my things together and taking me out to his car. I felt everyone’s eyes on us as he guided me through the swarms of people. He flat out ignored anyone calling his name or asking for a photo.

He was a man on a mission.

Once we were safely hidden in the vehicle, he let out a frustrated sigh. “That was so fucked up.” He turned to me. “We have to report it.”

I shook my head. “We can’t, Justin, please. I don’t want this getting…” My throat closed up, choking the words away.

“Baby,” Justin said, reaching for me. He slipped a hand behind my neck. His thumb made hypnotic little circles on the base of my neck. “We can’t let him get away with this. I can’t allow that.”

“Justin, my dad will find out. I don’t want him to worry about me. Nothing happened. Can’t we just forget the whole thing?”

Justin turned the engine over and buckled up. I buckled my seatbelt and he pulled out of the lot. I didn’t ask where we were going. I didn’t care. As long as I was with him. Twenty minutes later, we arrived at Justin’s chic hotel and after he passed the keys off to the valet, we headed upstairs.

Justin’s hands started wandering in the elevator and by the time we burst through the door of the suite, clothing was flying off. For all his control, it was wild and uninhibited. I could barely catch a breath, let alone start to obsess over what was happening.

It was primal and hot and everything we needed.

All the emotions from our charged argument the night before poured into our lovemaking. We moved almost as one, each anticipating and filling every inkling and when we finally collapsed together in a heap, we were both breathless and wore satisfied grins.

“You’re a fast learner,” Justin said, rolling to his side. He grinned at me and traced a finger over my cheek and down to my arm.

I smiled. “Maybe I just had a good trainer.”

He laughed and then pushed forward to kiss me before getting out of bed and heading for the bathroom.

When he returned, he gave me a quizzical look as I sat on the edge of the bed, slipping into my panties. “What are you doing?”

“It’s almost eleven o’clock.”

He dropped onto the bed. “What if I said that I wanted you to stay?”

“What about the rules?” I asked over my shoulder.

Justin grabbed my hips and dragged me back under the covers. He dropped his lips to my ear as his hands went searching for trouble under the sheets. “Fuck the rules, baby.”

***

A week and a half after the awful encounter with Erickson and Bailey, I heard Bailey had been caught with a stash of pot in his locker. He was suspended from the team and league and disappeared from the training facility without a trace.

I knew Justin had something to do with it, but I never asked. Didn’t need to.

And I loved him even more for it.

The last couple of weeks of spring training passed like some kind of dream. Justin and I made everyone nauseated with our “googley eyes” during the day, and I spent every night in his bed.

We didn’t bring up the elephant in the room. In a few days, he’d be on the team’s private jet, flying back to Oklahoma City where he’d launch into the season, and I’d stay here to finish my senior year in school.

Eventually the curiosity—and dread—got to me. We’d just arrived at his hotel, where we spent most of our time together, and while Justin poured himself a whiskey, I perched on the edge of the couch. “Do you know what time your flight is leaving on Wednesday?” I asked casually.

“Ten o’clock I think.” He finished pouring and set the bottle aside. “Why?”

I avoided his eyes and stared down at my hands, carefully inspecting my nails. “No reason… I guess I just wanted to know what the plan is. For this. Us.”

“About that,” he started, reaching into his bag. He handed me an envelope and smiled as I peeled it open. “I was going to see if I could sweet talk you into playing hooky for a few days. Come to Oklahoma City and see me pitch on opening day.”

The contents of the envelope fell out—a first-class ticket to Oklahoma City for the day before the first game of the season.

“Well? What do you think? Feeling like taking a walk on the rebellious side?” He wiggled a brow for effect and I laughed.

“I don’t know… This is right around midterms.” I smiled up at him and slapped the ticket against my open palm a few times. “You gonna get mad if I bring a textbook to bed?”

He laughed loudly. “Baby, if you start bringing text books to bed, that’ll be my cue I need to go get some little blue pills.”

He wrapped me in his arms and the evidence that he was far from needing any help in that department brushed against me. A glimmer of mischief flashed in his eyes. “Come on. I need you there cheering me on.”

“How could I say no to a face this handsome?”

“I was kinda hoping you couldn’t.”

I grinned. “Then I guess you’re in luck.”

Justin kissed me slowly. “Baby, you have no idea just how damn lucky I am.”