Two guys argued a few feet away. I should have looked away, but I couldn’t. Their voices carried, and after the day I’d had, I needed some form of comedic relief—and these two provided that. Considering I’d been sitting on this stool in their direct line of sight for the last hour, I was well aware just how drunk each of them were, and the more they disagreed, the louder they became.

“That’s him. I’m telling you, I know my baseball players,” the one with dark hair said—or more like slurred—loudly.

“You wouldn’t know their faces if you had their cards right in front of you.” The blond rolled his eyes and tossed back the last of the amber liquid in his glass. “Now…if you’d recognized him as he walked away, I’d believe you. You pay far more attention to their asses in those tight pants.”

The guy with the dark hair—I could’ve sworn I’d heard someone call him Eric, but it could’ve been Derrick, it was hard to tell with the heavy slurring—punched his friend in the arm. “Fuck you, bro.”

“You’re a great guy, but I don’t like you like that.”

Eric or Derrick turned his attention back to me and squinted. There was a good chance he’d reached the double-vision stage of drinking. I actually envied him. I wanted to be there—or the blackout stage, whichever would ease the disappointment festering inside.

I didn’t shy away, and instead, held his stare until he nudged Dan—who he could’ve been calling “man” this whole time, but I didn’t care. “How much you gonna pay me if I’m right?”

“Nothing! Why the hell would I give you money?”

“Like a bet.”

Dan seemed irritated over his friend’s insistence. He’d been desperately trying to catch the attention of the redhead next to him, but every time he almost succeeded, the drunken moron at his side carried on about whether or not I was who he thought I was.

“Fine. I’ll bet you a hundred bucks.”

Eric checked his wallet…or, at least I think that’s what he was doing. He took out the bi-fold and fumbled open the cash part, closing one eye and drawing it close to the other. I was across the bar and could see there was no money in there. But apparently, he needed to check. Then double-check.

And check one last time before saying, “I don’t have a hundred dollars. How about five?”

“You’re making a big deal over five bucks?”

It was only a matter of time before he came over, and I didn’t care to be perched on the stool when he did. Honestly, I didn’t care to interact with anyone, but people frown upon those who drink alone. My options were limited.

Swallowing the last of my Crown, I flipped the tumbler upside down and slid off the stool. At the last second, I changed the course of my direction. Rather than head toward the door, I veered around the bar and approached the redhead sitting next to the guys. I’d found her staring at me a few times, smiling when caught and quickly diverting her gaze, so I figured it was worth an attempt.

I dug my wallet out of my back pocket and slipped out a five-dollar bill. Slapping it on the bar top, I slid it over, closer to Dan, while lessening the space between the redhead and myself, my brown eyes meeting her green ones. “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

“Kelly.”

“Nice to meet you, Kelly.” I flicked my gaze back to the guys, who now sat with their mouths hanging open, eyes popped wide in shock. I tossed my head back quickly in their direction by way of a casual greeting. “Hey, name’s Coby Kyler,” I said before glancing back down at the gorgeous woman so close to me. “You wouldn’t mind if I stole you away, would you?”

It took everything in me not to roll my eyes…at myself. I wouldn’t consider myself “smooth” with the ladies, but at least I was a hell of a lot better now than I had been a few years ago. But when she smiled and said, “Sure,” I figured I couldn’t have been as bad as I thought.

The two guys continued to gawk while I helped her off her stool, then they both turned to the five-dollar bill on the bar when she pointed to it and said, “I’ve already paid for my drink. And left a tip. So you don’t need to leave that.”

For the first time all day, the smirk on my face was genuine. “Sorry, man, but I didn’t have a hundred on me. I just wanted to say thanks for noticing me without having to check out my ass first. It doesn’t look half as good in jeans.” I tossed him a wink for fun and then took the girl’s hand.

She giggled and tugged on my arm as soon as we made it outside, automatically leading me to her car. “You didn’t drive here, did you?”

“Nah. I’m traveling, so I don’t have my car.” I followed her, even though she’d never offered to take me anywhere—nor had I asked. “Where are we going?”

“Well…I was going to take you home, but since you don’t live here, I guess I have no idea where to go.”

I got the hint. Get the same innuendo enough times, and you learn exactly what it means. “I’m staying at a hotel a few blocks away. You can take me there.”

We both climbed into her Mustang, and I buckled up while she cranked the engine. “So, you said you’re traveling… Are you on vacation?”

“Oh, sorry. No, I play baseball—I’m the pitcher for the Tuscaloosa Titans.”

“Major League?” Even though she kept her eyes on the windshield, I could see the way her brows arched. She was impressed; I’d seen that look often.

“Yeah…you pay attention to the sport?” I prayed she didn’t. I already felt like enough of a loser today. I didn’t care to feel like even more of one by being called out on my shortcomings.

She shook her head and giggled, and I grew lost in the sound. Not because it was sexy or melodic, but because it was slightly annoying and I had to block it out. “No, I don’t. I’ve just heard of the team. My best friend is obsessed with one of the players. She only watches it for him.”

“Oh, yeah? Who?”

“Gage something.”

I dropped my head against the headrest and closed my eyes. Gage Nix. Every female between the ages of sixteen and ninety-seven had a thing for him. It wasn’t that I wished for that kind of attention—I had more than I knew what to do with most of the time. Gage and I were friends, and truth be told, I was envious of his natural ability with the ladies. He was smooth and had great follow-through—an effortless ability to hit every connection out of the park, whereas I struggled to even make it to base.

“The hotel is right up here.” I pointed straight ahead, and then waited in silence while she pulled into the entrance. When she parked and turned off the car, I realized I couldn’t get out of it. The initial feeling I’d gotten when we left the bar began to diminish, and I started to second-guess my decision to bring her back to my hotel room. I only hoped I’d consumed enough alcohol to get me through this without striking out.

Once inside the hotel, her hand slipped beneath my shirt. The warmth of her palm pressing against my stomach did nothing for me, and I fought the urge to feign illness while we waited for the elevator. After we stepped in—no one else inside with us—she moved to stand in front of me and wrapped her arms around my neck to bring my lips to hers. Luckily, it didn’t take long to make it to my floor—saved by the bell. By the time we made it to my room, I’d stopped overthinking everything and tried to enjoy the way her body felt pressed against mine.

Her shirt came off just fine. I couldn’t say the same about her bra. I swear, it’s easier to crack a safe than it is to unhook those things. Even with the use of both hands, I still couldn’t get it unfastened. Kelly finally put me out of my misery by reaching behind her and doing it herself.

Next came her jeans.

They seemed to have been made by the same manufacturer as the bra.

Once she finished undressing herself—because it appeared I was too inept to do so—I tossed her back onto the bed and pressed one knee on the mattress between her legs. But I couldn’t move farther. There was something about her thighs that made me pause.

They were too…small.

I shook my head, hoping to rattle the insane thought loose, but when I opened my eyes and focused on her again, that’s all I could see—thighs without any meat on them. All I could think about was if I gripped them too hard, I might break something.

She must’ve sensed my hesitation, because she suddenly ran her finger down her flat stomach before dipping it beneath the lace band on her panties. She definitely sought to close this deal, but her actions only brought my attention to her abdomen. The space beneath her ribs appeared too hollow when she arched her back. Then there were her breasts. And just like that sweet children’s tale of home invasion by the little blonde girl, there was something wrong with those, too.

I couldn’t do this.

Every damn time, this same thing happened. I’d get a beautiful woman in my bed—the bed of a hotel, not mine at home—and I’d do nothing but obsess over everything that was wrong instead of enjoying everything that was right. Although, it seemed I could never find anything “right.”

They were too tall, too short, too skinny, too tan. Their nipples were too big or too small. The last woman had an outie belly button. It never failed…there was always something that made sure I’d strike out.

I was the freaking Goldilocks of sexual ineptitude.

It wasn’t that I was picky—at least I didn’t think so. I had no problem kissing and touching a woman who was fully dressed. But something changed as soon as the clothes came off. Foolish me, I thought having a few drinks would keep me from being so damn particular.

Guess not.

“You okay, baby?” She sat up and traced my face with her fingertips like we were familiar with one another. I didn’t even know her last name or what she liked to put in her coffee—nor could I figure out why I was even thinking about that while kneeling between her legs.

It was a good sign I didn’t exactly care to be there.

“Yeah,” I huffed out, shifting to sit next to her where I dropped my head into my hands. “I’ve just had a lot on my mind. It’s been a shit day…sorry.”

“Let me make that better for you,” she purred while suggestively pushing against my shoulders until I was on my back. She didn’t seem to have the same issues with the button on my jeans as I had with the one on hers. In an instant, I was stripped of all my clothing—boxers included.

I covered my eyes with my forearm and tried my best not to groan. I had to focus on what this woman was doing to me. I needed to keep my attention on her and how good it felt. The feel of her lips moving down my stomach. Her tongue peeking out and nibbling my thighs. The way our bodies would move together while sliding into home base.

But of course, that’s not what happened. No. That would’ve been too easy.

My body halted as a cold tingle raced down my left arm from my shoulder to my fingertips, leaving behind a burning sensation. It was nothing new. Although, now the pain I felt wasn’t in my arm. It was in my chest. The words from Coach and Dr. Chen, amongst others, echoed around me.

Too much damage.

It could be permanent if you don’t stop.

Another surgery won’t help.

Your career is over.

“You sure you’re okay?” Her voice broke through my thoughts and the depressing words that kept me from focusing on what she was doing to me—the words that had played on repeat and haunted me since this afternoon.

“Sorry. I guess I had too much to drink.” I wasn’t about to tell her the real problem. It didn’t matter if she believed I had a medical issue or truly just had whiskey dick. It wasn’t like we would ever see each other again, so it didn’t matter to me.

Nothing else needed to be said. The point was made. She dressed while I remained on the bed with my right arm over my eyes, my legs spread, and my dick abandoned. I thought I heard her say “bye” before leaving, but I couldn’t be sure.

The irony of it all.

Even off the field, I couldn’t make it to third base.

My phone rang from the floor, muffled by my jeans. I leaned off the side of the bed and grabbed it before the voicemail picked up. Had it been any other ringtone, I would’ve let it go. But it was Ellie, my best friend, and there was no way in hell I’d ever ignore her.

“What’s up?” I tried my best to keep my frustration out of my tone.

“Well, hello to you, too.” She giggled, and I grew lost in the sound. And not because it annoyed me, but because it was the best song in the world. “Listen, I know you’re busy—I wasn’t sure if the game would be over by now—but I thought I’d call and say thank you.”

I listened to every word she said, but I had no clue what she was talking about. “What are you thanking me for?”

“The flowers, silly.” That still didn’t ring a bell. “I just came home from my graduation party. The entire kitchen is covered in flowers. This was you, right?” Suddenly, her voice dropped. “Right? Or do I have to worry about someone else calling me E.T.?”

It finally clicked.

Graduation party.

Flowers.

Ellie had her college graduation ceremony today, and I’d ordered a shit-ton of flowers a while ago to be delivered today because I wouldn’t be there for her. I was supposed to have been at a game tonight, but I wasn’t there, either. I was in a hotel room, naked, and alone.

“Oh, yeah. Sorry, I wasn’t thinking.”

“Everything okay?” That was the second time a woman had asked me that same question in the last five minutes, but this one was different. She was different.

“How’d we get here, Ellie?”

She was quiet for a moment before her humorous voice filtered back through the phone. “I think you flew there…but if you don’t remember, you should probably talk to your coach about that. I hear when men have too much sex, they lose brain cells.”

I laughed, but only because of the irony. “No, not here as in where I’m currently at.”

“I’m just giving you a hard time, Coby. Why are you asking? You want to take a walk down memory lane? Miss me that much, that you need to reminisce with me?” She grew quiet. Ellie knew if I was asking to stroll down memory lane, it was because I needed it. And when she spoke again, her tone was soft yet teasing. “Where should I begin? The day I was born?”

“Just start from high school senior year, dork,” I said with a laugh.