Chapter Two
Rob
I’m not a big fan of wet T-shirt contests. I mean, I like tits as much as the next guy, plus wet ones are just hot. But the women who enter these contests are always so blatant. They fondle themselves and hump their asses in front of the crowd. It’s not my style and certainly not while crammed tight against hundreds of horny guys.
But my friends were here, hooting and hollering like a pack of wolves. They claimed we were celebrating my hot new baseball career in the minor leagues, but I knew it was just an excuse for beer and babes. And hell, who was I to argue? Especially on our last night in Florida. Except, I’d thought they’d meant we’d check out a cool nightclub or something, not end up at this sweaty meat show on the beach.
Then she stepped on stage. Heidi VaVoom. I’ve never had a thing for Asian girls. They were a little too exotic for this Nebraska boy. Give me a strawberry blonde with freckles any day. Except with Heidi’s long, dark hair and nervous flinch as she got drenched, I got a woody hard enough to pound nails. She seemed so real when every one of the others came across as a caricature.
Heidi looked awkward as hell up there, but she had breasts that made my mouth water. Just the right size—a little more than a handful—and with nipples that seemed to point straight to me. I wanted to suck on those dusky tips in the worst way. She was still cringing. I’m sure that ice water felt brutal, but then she took a deep breath. OMG, the way those sweet breasts lifted was amazing. And then she seemed to square her shoulders. I know the movement, recognizing it from every game I’ve ever played. There’s a moment when you just take all your self-consciousness and stuff it away. It was time to get serious. And that’s what she was doing.
She closed her eyes and started to move to the music. It was a deep bass thrum and every woman so far had bounced her way across the stage, booty and breasts hopping like popcorn. But not this girl. She shimmied once, then started moving in some coiling motions that made me think of what it would be like to have her body wrapped around mine. Her arms went high above her head, stretching for the blue sky, sinuous and beautiful. Her breasts lifted as she arched and then, as if I were a fish on a hook, she caught me with a single look.
She was half turned away from the stage when she looked over her shoulder, straight at me. There was joy in that look and a mischievous delight. As if she and I were in on a grand joke together. I knew that look wasn’t just for me. Hell, I was just one face in a crowd, and we all roared our approval together. But I sure as hell fell for it…and for her.
I was pushing forward through the crowd before I even knew I’d been reeled in. I’m a big guy, so it wasn’t hard. Plus I was determined. I had to get to her.
There was a taped barricade holding us back, along with bouncer reinforcements. I got straight to the edge, my gaze trained on her. The music stopped and she jolted out of her dance as if coming back to reality. Then she looked out over the crowd and smiled. Sweet and triumphant. She’d probably never done something like this before in her life and was proud of herself for gutting her way through it.
Look at me!
I didn’t want her exotic eyes panning the crowd. I didn’t want her to see anyone but me. I should have called out to her, but my throat was too dry.
Over here! Look at me!
My mind was screaming the words, but I couldn’t voice them. I was too mesmerized by her. And then it happened, just as if she had heard me. Her gaze shifted and riveted onto me, right where I stood flush against the ribbon divider, stretching a little taller than the nearest bouncer. Her eyes caught mine and they widened. Her mouth opened, and I wondered if she’d recognized me. Was she a college baseball fan?
I smiled at her. I couldn’t help it. She was looking at me and I grinned like a fool.
Come here!
I thought she’d heard me. I thought we had some psychic connection that would walk her straight into my arms. But if we did, it was stopped by the MC. Before I could reach out to her, the bastard stepped between us. He broke our line of sight and ushered her to the waiting area so that the next girl could come on stage.
Heidi turned away, going where she was led. And then she stepped into line beside the rest of the contestants, like a real woman in a group of blow-up sex toys. She put them all to shame, and I followed her, pushing my way through the crowd until I got within reach.
But the audience was thick here and even at my size, I couldn’t muscle my way through. I had to wait ten feet away, my eyes trained on her when everyone else was looking at the stage.
I’m here. Look at me.
She didn’t. Her eyes were focused on the stage where the next woman danced. I waited impatiently. Eventually whomever it was ended her dance and joined the line. A curvy strawberry blonde with a pert nose and big, wet tits. The kind of girl I would normally go for, except the only reason I noticed her was because Heidi obviously knew her. The two women clustered together, giggling in the way girls do when they’re congratulating each other. Strangely, I didn’t mind. Heidi was smiling at her friend. Beaming actually, and the beauty of that happiness was nearly blinding.
This was absolutely crazy. I didn’t even know this woman, and yet, here I was, counting the seconds until the event was over so I could find a way to talk to her. Only two more contestants to go. I didn’t watch. I was more interested in the way Heidi blushed as she talked to her friend. Her cheeks pinked and her lips curved, but she didn’t show teeth. She seemed like a quiet woman, still uncertain of her beauty.
Well, that had to change. And I swore right there I would be the one to show her her real value.
Finally, they reached the end of the contestant intros, but the judging was still to come. All the women were pulled back onto the stage and one by one, they were hit by buckets of ice water while the crowd voted by applause. Heidi didn’t flinch as much as the first time, but she did close her eyes. And as her breasts peaked from the cold, I cheered as if my life depended on it. I sounded like a hound dog, but I couldn’t stop myself.
It took forever, and the results were idiotic. Heidi didn’t win. Some woman with grossly exaggerated attributes had the crowd’s approval. That was because most men were idiots. I watched as Heidi shot her friend a sideways look. The two of them shrugged, then the blonde lifted a pretend glass to her hand. Had they done this for the free margaritas? I would buy them all the margaritas they could handle if only I got some one-on-one time with Heidi.
Then the event was over. The ribbon barrier went down and guys surged forward. Not surprisingly, Heidi and her friend backed away, a little alarmed. But I was determined and pursued them as fiercely as I’d pursued my high school home run record.
Taking the clue from her friend, I nabbed a margarita pitcher. I had to reach over a slower guy, but that was the joy of having athletic reflexes. I grabbed the jug and a couple Solo cups and lifted them high above the crowd’s head. Then I muscled forward until I appeared right in front of them…and completely forgot what I was doing.
I stood there, trying to force my mouth to speak. What the hell was wrong with me?
“Hi,” I finally managed to say. Then I shoved the cups at Heidi. “Drink.” It wasn’t even a question. “Suave” was not my middle name. Fortunately, the blonde gave me a grin.
She lifted the cups from my hand, then helped guide me in pouring. It sloshed as the ice broke, and the friend hopped back with a squeak. So much for athletic reflexes.
“Sorry,” I mumbled. The blonde answered with something, but I’d already turned my attention back to Heidi. “Hi,” I said again. “I’m Rob.”
She smiled, and I loved the smooth perfection of her skin. No dimples, no freckles. A slight tilt to her head that let her straight, dark hair fall slightly to the left. She was stunningly beautiful.
“This is Heidi,” her friend interjected.
“Yeah,” I said. Oh hell. I had to find a way to talk like someone who wasn’t brain damaged.
“My last name is not Va-va-voom,” she said. Her voice was lyrical with mellow notes that I strained to hear above the noise of the crowd. It was like sweet chimes, and I grinned as if she’d given me a World Series ring.
“Yeah, I guessed,” I said.
Her cheeks pinked again, a soft rose-petal flush that I watched with rapt attention.
“You’re beautiful.” Had I just said that out loud? What the hell? “I sound like a creeper. I’m usually much better at this.”
Except, if I was honest with myself, I’d never been good at this. The moment I became the local baseball legend, girls started coming on to me. All I’d had to do was smile and keep hitting home runs. That was easy. But suddenly, I really needed a silver-tongue and discovered that I was completely unprepared.
I was just marshaling brain cells to come up with a real conversation when I got jostled from behind. More guys, some of them aiming toward Heidi. I blocked them. Now that I was face-to-face with her, no one was getting in. But that didn’t stop them from banging into me or angling around to get at her best friend.
“This is insane,” Heidi said.
“It’s great,” the friend replied as she winked at a flirty Hispanic guy.
I realized I had to make a move soon or I’d be shoved out of the way. Even my bulk couldn’t hold off the tide of admirers. So I gestured with the pitcher. “You hungry? There’s a crab shack over there.”
Her gaze shifted to her left, but she couldn’t see anything. She was too short and the crowd too thick. “Really?”
“I’ll take you.”
She glanced nervously at her friend who was flirting with a new guy with ripped abs and a tight Speedo. “Sam,” she said as she touched her friend’s arm.
Sam turned back, quickly understood what was going on, then lifted her phone to snap a couple pictures of me. “One more of your driver’s license.”
“What?”
“If you’re going off somewhere with my girl, I want some photographic evidence of who you are.”
Huh. Not a bad idea. I complied, setting down the pitcher before pulling out my license, which she captured with clean efficiency. I watched their faces closely, hoping to catch a glimpse of recognition. This would be so much easier if they were fangirls, but no such luck. I wasn’t in a small town in Nebraska anymore.
“Stay smart and text me all the details!” Sam said, blowing Heidi a quick air-kiss. Then she turned back to the Hispanic dude who was slowly edging out the dull-witted Speedo guy. But I only had eyes for Heidi. Was she really about to go to dinner with me?
Meanwhile, Heidi stretched up on her toes to see beyond the crowd. “Is it good crab?”
“No idea. Never been there. But it’s got to be less crowded than this.”
She nodded. “I need to get more clothes on.”
Not on my account. But I liked the idea that she didn’t want to strut around in a rapidly drying shirt.
“My bag’s in back,” she said. Together we moved through the crowd to where the bartender had stowed the contestants’ purses. It was hard going, but I pushed my way forward to force everyone back. She seemed to appreciate it, as she pressed tight to my side.
Warm woman, sweet curves. My hard-on started throbbing in hunger, but I ignored it the best I could. This was about spending time with her, at least for now. Maybe, if I was really, really lucky, things would go my way later on. I had a brief moment of confusion as to why I was taking such care with her. This sure as hell wasn’t my usual MO. But then I pushed it aside. She was what I wanted right now, and I was happy to delay some gratification to hang with her.
She shimmied on a pair of shorts right there and I got to enjoy the sight of her body slinking into soft cutoffs. She looked over her shoulder at the bathroom, but it was the opposite side of the bar, so I touched her arm.
“There’s a bathroom at the restaurant,” I said.
She nodded and then pulled her beach bag tight to her chest as if hiding behind it. It wasn’t large enough and I didn’t like the way she hunched forward, as if suddenly embarrassed. I leaned in because of the noise and spoke into her ear.
“What happened to that bold dancer on the stage?” I asked.
She turned enough to arch a brow at me. “The tequila wore off.”
Not true. The Asian glow still brushed her face and neck with red, but I let it go. I’d already guessed she’d done the contest on a bet and now the daring was wearing off, not the alcohol.
“You were amazing,” I said.
“They’re just breasts,” she said as she hunched a little farther.
“Amazing breasts,” I countered. “And I liked you even without the wet tee.”
She unfolded enough to flash me a confused look. “Really?”
“It was the way you danced,” I said, struggling to put words to my thoughts. “You liked moving that way, and we just happened to be there watching.”
Her mouth opened as if she were about to say something, but then we got bumped by a guy lurching toward the bar. I’d seen him coming and moved to block him. That meant I took the brunt of his two hundred-plus pounds as he pushed me into Heidi. Not a hardship, and also not exactly accidental on my part. I liked wrapping her protectively in my arms. Better yet, I liked the feel of her against me as we maneuvered through the crowd out to the restaurant.
Sadly, that didn’t last long. Ten feet beyond the bar, we could move freely. I had no excuse to press her slim shoulders to my chest and let her scent tease my nostrils. Ginger spice barely noticed beneath vanilla sunscreen. I loosened my hold and should have released her shoulders, but I didn’t want to. She let me keep touching her until we got to the restaurant, and she visited the bathroom. She came out a few minutes later in the same outfit, except underneath, she was now wearing a bra. The tee was thin enough that I could just make out the outlines of pink lace, but that was all, and disappointment flared for a moment while we were escorted to a table on the terrace.
For something called a “shack,” this restaurant was more high-end than my meager bank account could afford, but that didn’t seem to matter when Heidi gave me a shy smile from over the menu.
“My treat,” I said before fiscal responsibility reared its ugly head. She was worth it. “So are you a dancer back home?”
“What? No. I’m a junior at Butler University. Journalism and philosophy major. You?”
“Math at Nebraska, but my real major is baseball.” If anything was going to give away my identity, that would do the job. But instead of a sudden gasp of recognition, she tilted her head in confusion.
“How do you major in baseball?”
“I’m the Husker heavy hitter. I’m heading for the minors as soon as this semester is over.” I hoped. I was being scouted by everybody and the buzz was that I was a top pick. Assuming, of course, I played well this coming weekend. Big game, lots of scouts, huge possibilities. But I wasn’t focused on that. Right now was about relieving stress, not holding onto the pressure.
“Congratulations!” She put enough force behind her words to seem enthusiastic, but I could tell she didn’t understand it. Not how big an accomplishment this was. How few guys could claim even this much. “I’m going all the way, Heidi,” I said, a little defensively. “I’m going straight to the majors and intend to break the home run record.”
Now her eyes widened, and a bit of awe came into her face. “So, you’re like a big deal then.”
I nodded and felt heat flush my face. It was stupid to be humble about this now. I was the one who’d brought it up. Maybe I was ashamed to be bragging to someone who didn’t get it. Or maybe I just felt like a dumb jock next to the double-major smart kid. To cover, I switched the conversation back to her. “So, um, philosophy. Is that—?”
“No wait,” she interrupted. “Tell me more about this baseball thing.”
I frowned. The thing is, I can talk baseball all day, but the way she said it was throwing me. What exactly did she want to know? My RBI? My home run average was really impressive, but only if you understood the sport. Or was she asking a more general question about the sport itself?
She flashed me a self-conscious smile, obviously seeing my confusion. “You said you’re going all the way. Can you tell me why, exactly? I mean, I’m sure you’re good, but why are you great?”
I could tell she wasn’t trying to insult me. She really wanted to know. But what bothered me was that I didn’t have a good answer. “I, um, hit home runs. A lot.”
She nodded, her attention focused almost uncomfortably on my face. “So what makes you hit a lot of home runs? I mean is it just genetics? If so, that’s going to top out in time. The majors are the elite of the elite. At some point, everyone else will have great genetics, too, right?”
I stared at her, trying to form a good answer. I was trying to impress this girl, but she was pushing me to admit to all my secret fears. Was I really good enough to go to the majors? Would I bomb out in AAA?
“Um, I practice. A lot. And my coach pushes me really hard. It’s a miracle he let me come down here for spring break.”
I knew her response even before she said it.
“Doesn’t everybody practice hard at that level?” Then she reached forward and touched my hand. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to be a pain. I just really want to know. About you. Why are you such a great athlete and someone else isn’t?” Then she wrinkled her nose in a kind of apology that I found really cute. “I’m being awful.”
“No, no. You’re just…” Asking a question that I can’t answer. “I don’t know why I’m so good.” God, it almost hurt to say that aloud. But in a good way. As if looking at a wound I didn’t even know was there. “I mean, what makes me such a great player? What are my strengths, other than godlike hand-eye coordination?”
She smiled. “Maybe that’s the answer.”
No, it wasn’t. And that bothered me. Because stepping into the minor leagues meant this was my career now. Not something I did because I loved the game or wanted to pick up girls. I had to get serious about it at a new level.
She touched my hand again. “You’re not talking.”
“Because I’m thinking. I have natural talent, but my coach doesn’t let me slide on anything. Drills, practice, nutrition. If I show up five minutes late, he adds a half hour of calisthenics. He’s all about discipline. I had to beg to come here.”
“Why’d he let you go?”
“Because the entire team got three days off, including me. He wanted me to stay on campus, but my friends are here.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Sounds like he’s a hard-ass.”
“He is, but it got me my chance. This Saturday. In front of four scouts.”
“Wow. Are you nervous?”
Terrified. Excited. And confident in a panicky way. “I just have to stick to the plan. Enjoy spring break, then when I go back, it’s all baseball, all the way.” Had to be, because Coach swore that if I showed up late or hungover for practice the day after tomorrow, he’d bench me for the big game. “It’s my chance. I’m not going to blow it.”
“I believe you.”
Simple words, but they warmed me inside and out. Then I shook my head. I was on a date with a gorgeous girl. The last thing I needed to do was dig into my sports psychology. “Let’s talk about you. You’re studying Plato and stuff?” And didn’t that just show how dumb I was? Especially since I pronounced it “Play-Doh” when I knew that wasn’t right.
“It’s the I-suck-at-science major for those who are still finding themselves,” she said. “Did you always want to play baseball?”
“I never wanted to do anything else.”
She tilted her head and her dark hair spilled over her shoulder. “I envy that,” she said.
“No passion?”
She shrugged. “There’s lots of things I hate. Chemistry and biology sucked. Math was like climbing a mountain just to see if it could give me a migraine. English is okay. Who doesn’t like reading? But some of it was just boring. Dickens uses way too many words.”
“I never even tried. SparkNotes.”
She giggled and her cheeks pinked. “Me, too.”
We were back on good footing, so I pushed her a little. “But there must be something you love. Something that sets your heart beating fast.”
“My parents think I’d make a good lawyer. I’m considering it. I take the LSATs in a couple months.”
I dropped my chin on my palm. “That doesn’t sound like a great passion.”
“It’s not. What I like isn’t a career.” She shrugged. “In fact, it’s kind of dumb.”
“It can’t be dumber than planning a future where a sprained ankle could destroy your livelihood.” That was one of my big terrors. I had a weak left ankle.
She laughed. “Okay. I really like asking difficult questions.” She leaned forward in her seat. “You know, that question that sets a teacher back on his heels because he never thought of something that way. Or the one that shuts up the know-it-all or makes all your friends go ‘huh.’”
“Like asking what makes me a good baseball player?”
She looked away, but with a smile that told me she was really pleased. “Yeah. Maybe like that.”
“Maybe exactly like that.”
And then we laughed, because she was right. She was really good at asking questions.
“Sounds like you’d make a good journalist,” I offered, and her eyes widened.
“I think so, too,” she said, and her tone made me feel like I’d just given the winning answer in a game show. “But my parents think law is the safer bet.” She sighed. “The pay is better, and there are always jobs.”
I touched her fingers and squeezed. “Parents don’t know everything. You should follow your dream.”
She flushed as she met my gaze, and I read hope and excitement there. Like she needed encouragement to strike out against parental pressure. I was still lost in her expression when the waitress interrupted. Our hands split apart, and we gave our orders. I was grateful Heidi didn’t get anything too expensive, and we settled in for a get-to-know you date. We had almost nothing in common beyond our basic midwestern upbringings. That meant siblings, fall allergies, and a hatred of snow. She was the stereotypical Chinese girl, who studied constantly and played violin in her spare time. I was the baseball jock who studied enough to get by, so I could get back to playing games.
But eventually we found some common ground. I had a real love of statistics, mostly as it pertained to baseball, but also where it touched economics, marketing, and other real-life things. For her part, she had a vast knowledge of sports movies that hit my happy button. I’d always had a secret lust for smart girls. When other guys drooled over the cheerleaders, I was hiding my boner in chem class and when watching the debate team. Heidi put all those early girls to shame. Her brain was by far the sexiest thing about her, and that was saying something considering how hot her body was. I was completely enthralled by the time we finished dessert and coffee. The sun had started to set, and the restaurant hostess was giving us the evil eye.
“Want to take a walk on the beach?” I asked.
She smiled in that way that didn’t show her teeth but made her eyes sparkle. I’d been admiring it all evening and to see it now, felt like getting the prize at the bottom of a Cracker Jack box. I held out my hand and she took it easily. Her fingers were small but firm as I took them in mine. The beach was a loud and busy affair, but farther down by the water offered more privacy. I headed there, and eventually whole expanses of empty sand stretched out before us. She was talking about hating violin drills, and as she spoke, the wind blew a strand of dark hair across her cheek. She reached up to brush it back, but I was there before her. I stroked it back from her cheek, then kept my hand right there cupping the back of her head.
It was one of those magical moments when nerves didn’t make me awkward. Honestly, I’d never been this smooth in my life. Or maybe she was just so perfect that I didn’t think twice. I leaned down and kissed her. A soft press on her lips. A nibble against the curve of her mouth. And when she smiled, I pushed in for the real deal.