38. Lance
thirty-eight
Lance
Present
The engine turns over, and I sigh in relief. One step closer to home.
It’s been another long week of away games, and I’m happy to be back in LA. Pretty sure it has everything to do with a certain someone who’s turned my life upside down in all the best ways.
My phone rings through the speakers in my car as I pull out of the stadium parking lot. Gwen’s name pops up on the central control screen, and a smile pulls at my lips.
Progress. This is the first time she’s called me first. Every other time, it’s been me initiating our conversation. Not that I mind. She’s answered me every night since I left. We stayed up talking about everything and nothing.
Well, not everything. We haven’t talked about how I made her finger-fuck herself on my pillow. From now on, I’m going to need her to smear her cum on my pillow before I leave. Slept like a log and hit two home runs this week.
Nico had better watch out because I’m coming for his title.
All in all, it’s been a great week. I’ve really gotten to know Gwen just by talking to her. Didn’t think I would enjoy talking on the phone for hours, but with her, I do.
Hell, I like everything with Gwen.
Never had a relationship with a woman where talking was part of the equation. Like most guys in my position, my relationships have been solely physical and shallow.
Unless you’re like Heath and meet the love of your life in college, once you’re in the majors, it’s a whole different ball game.
I know, I know. That sounds cheesy as fuck, but it’s true. During my career, I’ve come across four types of women.
One: Women who are only interested in sleeping with a baseball player. A notch on the bedpost, if you will. No judgement. These gorgeous women made my life easy and spicy. No strings attached.
Two: Wanna-be WAGs. They want the money and the status of being married to a baseball player. I stay away from this group of women. It’s hard to determine if they love you or your money more.
Three: Everyday women. They will go on a few dates with you but break it off because they can’t handle being in a relationship with someone who travels nine months out of the year. I’ve been burned going down this road, and it’s a hit to the ego.
Four: Unicorn women. Almost all taken by the lucky bastards who met them before making it to the show. These women are rare gems in a sea of rocks. I never came across one until now.
Gwen is one of those women. Precious and priceless.
Knew it the moment I met her. It’s why it hurt so much when she walked out on me.
Since we got married, I’ve been doing everything I can to show her how serious I am about us. But it’s been harder than pushing a boulder up a hill with her.
Not that I mind. I already made her my wife. All I have to do is convince her to accept me as her husband.
I press the hands-free button, accepting her call. “Hey, Wife.”
The endearment slips off the tongue, and I’m not mad about it.
“Uh … hey,” Gwen answers. I love hearing the shock in her voice when I call her wife.
“I’ll be home in …” I check the GPS. “Forty minutes.”
“About that …” She hesitates.
My body tenses, going on high alert. I wish I could see her face. Those aquamarine eyes can’t hide her feelings.
A nervous sweat breaks out across the back of my neck as I pull my car over to the side of the road. Keeping my voice calm, I ask, “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. Just … not feeling great. So, I’m at my place. I’m sorry.”
“You don’t have to apologize for feeling sick. Catching a cold?”
“No,” she answers.
“Stomach bug?”
“It’s not that.” She sighs. I can sense she’s holding something back.
She’s pushing me away again.
I can’t hide my annoyance. “Then what is it? Because it sounds like you’re just trying to avoid me.”
“Oh my god, I’m on my period,” she shouts at me through the phone.
I can picture her red cheeks as she gets all fired up.
“I have cramps. I’m bloated. My head hurts, and I feel really freaking tired, and as much as I like your house and want to see you, I didn’t want to drive an hour to get there after work. So, now you know, okay? Are you happy?”
Not answering that. It’s a trap. Because I am happy. She’s not pushing me away. She wanted to see me.
“Will you text me your address?” I ask, side-stepping her rhetorical question.
“What? Why?”
“Don’t argue. Just send it.”
“Fine,” she groans. “But just so you know, I’m rolling my eyes at you.”
I chuckle at how cute she sounds when she’s irritable. “Good to know. Now get some rest, and I’ll talk to you later. Bye, Gwen.”
“Bye, Lance.”
Her address pops up, and I enter it into my GPS. It surprises me how close her apartment is to my location. I knew she lived close, but damn. No wonder she didn’t want to drive to my place.
Ten minutes later, I pull into the closest pharmacy parking lot.
Grabbing my phone from its holder, I open the one text chain I try to avoid at all costs. The group chat.
Need some help. What do women like when they are on their periods?
Reed: Does this mean you’re going to get your red wings?
Heath: Shut up, dickhead. Comfort food, chocolate, blankets, heating pads. Just pamper her.
Cam: Talia likes those eye patch things and ice cream. With whipped cream. *Tongue emoji*
Nico: I’m going to pretend that it’s only for ice cream, or I’m going to throw up. Rub her feet and let her watch her favorite show.
Blake: I feel like saying something to this thread is a trap.
Reed: Because you know nothing about women.
Blake: I know things. Like, when you’re in a relationship, the woman is always right.
Cam: Good job, BJ. You know the most important rule.
Blake: See, R. *Middle finger emoji.* You know nothing.
Reed: I’m going to buy one of those period simulators, strap it to you, and turn it on full blast.
While that sounds fun, I got shit to do. Thanks, guys.
I lock my phone to a slew of thumbs-up emojis and Reed and Blake still going at each other. Lovable dummies. As distracting as they were, I have a pretty good idea of what will make Gwen feel better.
I press the buzzer to Gwen’s apartment and wait. Took me a little longer to get what I wanted, but I think I have my bases covered.
“Hello?” her voice crackles over the intercom.
“Gwen?” I say into the receiver.
“Lance?”
“Yeah, it’s me. Can I come up?”
“Okay,” she mumbles.
The sound of a buzz and a click of the entrance door is loud this time of night. I enter the building and make my way to the fourth floor.
Before I can knock, the door swings open, revealing Gwen in a pair of loose shorts and a very familiar hoodie. A slow smile curls my lips.
“What are you doing here?” she asks.
I lift the bags in my hands. “I brought period presents.”
What the fuck? I sound like a dumbass.
“Period presents?” Confused, she raises her eyebrow at me.
Yep. Total dumbass.
“I don’t know why I said that. I have snacks and supplies for you. Can I please come in?”
“Of course.” With a smile, she opens the door wide, inviting me inside.
As I enter the small apartment, her delicious scent smacks me in the face, making my cock spring to life. Ignoring the tightness in my pants, I place the bags in my hands on the small whitewash wood dining table.
I look around, taking in her home. Every color of the rainbow, especially pink, accents the space. Whitewashed wood furniture, a small plush couch, a medium-sized flat screen on the wall, colorful art, lots of pictures, and a few plants.
It’s cozy, and very much Gwen.
I glance over my shoulder to where she stands watching me. “Your place is cute.”
“You mean small.”
“No.” I shake my head. “I mean, cute. It’s very you. I like it.”
“Thanks.” Her shoulders visibly fall from her ears. She closes the space between us and stands beside me, in front of the table. She pokes at one of the bags, trying to peek inside.
I playfully smack her hand. “Nuh-uh. Patience, little witch.”
“Hey. Not cool.” She rubs the back of her hand.
I pull out a chair at her small dining table and point. “Take a seat, and I’ll show you what I bought.”
Gwen narrows her eyes at me but takes the seat as instructed.
“Good girl,” I coo.
She bites her lower lip, fighting back a smile. “Just show me already.”
“This one first.” I hand her a brown paper bag and watch her open it. Her jaw falls open, and her eyes widen in surprise.
Two of Gwen’s favorite foods are fries and donuts. When I passed one of the best French-fry stands on my way here, I immediately pulled over to grab an order.
“Are these fries from Fry Day?” She brings the bag to her nose and inhales.
Something about her reaction pleases the beast in me. The big bastard curls up into a ball and lies down. Proud and content.
“Only the best fries for my lady,” I say with a wink.
“Your lady, huh?” Gwen chuckles, shoveling a bundle of parmesan truffle fries into her mouth. She moans, and my cock is as alive as Frankenstein’s monster after a round of electroshock.
“Just eat your fries.”
Willing my dick to chill out, I clear my throat and return to digging through the bags.
I pull out a variety of chocolates, candies, a bag of pre-popped popcorn, different flavored sports drinks, a jar of eye masks, a fluffy marshmallow-pink blanket I saw sitting on the shelf and knew had to be hers, two heated weight pillows, a pair of fuzzy socks, some over-the-counter painkillers, and a box of store-bought donuts.
“Oh my god, this is so much. Did you buy out the whole store?”
“Just about. Did I miss anything?” I ask, nervously scanning the table.
“This is perfect. More than perfect. No one has ever done this for me before.”
The beast in me is up on his hind legs, howling at the moon in pride. “Happy to be the first. You deserve to be pampered.”
“It’s just my period. I’ll survive.”
“I didn’t say you wouldn’t, but I wanted to take care of you. Spoil you with junk food. Are you cool with that?”
“I’m cool with that.” Hiding her smile, Gwen leans over the table, checking everything out. Again, unadulterated pride fills me as she pokes at a box of donuts.
I could preen like a peacock right now because she totally likes her period presents.
“I know you like fancy donuts, but when in a pinch, store-bought never hurt anyone.”
She looks up at me with watery aqua eyes and grins. “I love them. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. If you need anything else, just let me know.” I pull out my phone and check the time. Shit. It’s close to midnight. I don’t want to leave, but I have to. I don’t want to push her. “I better get home.”
“Wait, you’re leaving?” she asks, placing her bag of fries on the table.
I shrug. “It’s late.”
“Exactly.” She stands from her seat, shifting from foot to foot. “And it’s too dark.”
“I’ll be fine.” I wrap my arms around her shoulders, giving her a hug, and press a kiss on her forehead.
Her arms encircle my waist as she mumbles, “Stay,” into my chest.
I tilt her head back, making sure I heard her correctly. “What?”
“Stay. I hate the thought of you driving all the way home this late at night.” She looks up at me with her pretty eyes, and there is no way I can leave.
“Are you sure?” I don’t mean to second-guess her, but the last thing I want is for her to feel pressure. Do I want to stay? Of course, but only when she’s ready.
“I’m sure.”
Fuck yes!
“Good. I didn’t really want to go.” I grab her wrist and drag her toward the flamingo-pink, pillow-covered love seat.
She bursts out laughing. “What are you doing?”
“Making sure you rest. Now sit.”
“Yes, sir, Mr. Taylor.” She plops down on the couch.
I can feel her eyes on me as I toe off my shoes by the door, place my phone, wallet, and keys on the small entry table, and grab as many supplies as I can in one trip.
Eyeing the sofa, I frown. “We are going to have to work on the seating situation.”
“I wasn’t expecting a six-five professional baseball player to come by and hang out at my apartment.”
“I don’t know if I should be happy or annoyed by that statement.”
Gwen rolls her eyes as she stands. “I’ll show you a secret. Step back.”
“Of course, milady.” I bow, making her giggle.
I watch as she places a hundred pillows on the floor and tugs at the backrest. The cushions extend, and her tiny couch transforms into a decent-sized bed.
“You don’t sleep here, do you?”
Gwen barks a laugh. “Don’t worry. I have an actual bedroom with a queen bed.”
“Thank fuck for that,” I grumble. This piece of fluff doesn’t look like the best for sleeping on all night.
She throws all the pillows back onto the makeshift bed. I can’t help chuckling at the sheer amount she has lying around. “I just use this when I want to chill and watch TV.”
“Makes sense.” I nod, placing the stuff in my hands beside the bed.
“Right. I saw it online and thought it was fun. It’s also perfect for when my best friend comes to visit.” She sits on the cushion and pats the spot beside her.
I gaze down at my clothes. After I travel, the first thing I usually do is shower. Can’t do that now, so … What the hell do I do now? There’s no way I’m going to sit on her clean bed like this.
Fuck it.
I free the button on my slacks, slip down the zipper, and shove my pants over my hips, letting them fall to the floor.
Gwen sucks in a breath. “What are you doing?”
“Taking off my pants.” I kick them to the side and unbutton my dress shirt.
“I can see that. But why?”
Shrugging, I pull my arms from the blue shirt and drop it on my pants, which leaves me in a pair of charcoal boxer briefs and a white T-shirt. “Just got off the plane and it seems gross to sit on your clean furniture. That okay?”
Without a word, she nods. I don’t miss how her eyes linger on the middle of my boxers and her little pink tongue sweeps across her bottom lip, tempting me to suck on it.
Ignoring the way my cock approves of her heated gaze, I sit down and reach for the blanket I bought her. I pull off the tags and place it over both our laps.
“Thanks,” she says with a breathy whisper and pink cheeks.
“Shall we start with the donuts?”
“Yes, please.”
“You got it, babe.” I grab the blue and white pastry box and scoot my body back, leaning against the cushions and pillows.
Needing her close, I wrap my arm around her shoulders and pull her to my side. It doesn’t take long for Gwen to melt into me and rest her head on my shoulder.
I can’t think of a better place to be than right here, holding my wife and watching TV while we eat powdered donuts.