3. JOSH
JOSH
Why the hell had I fought Carlos on the bet?
This online dating thing might have been his best idea yet.
I was already on date three with Morgan, “a nice girl trying to find love in the city.” Ha!
More like sex in the bathroom at Crocodile Rock than love.
She was currently showing me just how interested she was.
Her pierced tongue flicked across my left pec.
Her teeth nipped at my nipple. Fuck, she was a tease.
She reached into her vodka cranberry drink and stole out an ice cube, stuffing it in her mouth before she inched closer and dragged it up my neck, causing a wave of goosebumps to wash over me.
“You like that?” she murmured with ice still in her mouth.
Hell yeah, Mindy. Wait, was it Molly? Megan? Fuck, what was her name? My brain was stuttering each time she licked or nipped my skin. One last swipe and I finally remembered.
“Morgannn,” I groaned, gripping her hair and pulling her mouth up to mine. She tasted sweet, like her drink, until she suddenly pulled back and teetered on her heels. A glazed stare washed over her eyes. She hiccupped, followed by a loud belch.
Ah fuck.
She shoved me out of the way just before the contents of her stomach emptied into the toilet.
I held my breath, pressing up against the disgusting graffiti-filled stall divider, desperate not to think of what could be on it or I’d be right next to her.
There was a splash. Gross. I was standing in either toilet water or piss.
Why did I think this was hot at first? Right, I wasn’t in charge of the thinking part. My dick was.
As Morgan continued to wretch, I was faced with the ultimate dilemma of whether or not I should be the guy who held her hair and helped her out, or the one who bolted to save himself.
When Morgan finished throwing up, she groaned, wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, and flushed. I reached my hand down to help her into a sitting position on the closed lid.
“Sorry ’bout that.”
“Don’t mention it.” Seriously. Ever again. Morgan’s mascara was smudged under her eyes. I held out a piece of toilet paper. “Need anything?”
With a hiccup, she nodded. “Water.”
“Great idea.” I bolted out of the bathroom faster than I had gone in and went straight to the bartender.
Once I had the water, I stood outside the bathroom door for someone to come along and take it in to her.
Unsurprisingly, a gaggle of women came by and nudged each other while ogling at me.
No one had come right out to ask me if I was who they thought, but I caught the unsubtle eye of a brunette wobbling on high heels who winked before telling her friend, “I’d take him. ”
I suppressed a chuckle and held out the bottle of water with a pleading pout. I probed, “Sorry, ladies, can one of you bring this in? The woman in the black top and mascara down her face wasn’t feeling great and asked for this…”
A young blonde swiped it from me and bit her cheek. “So nice of you.”
“Just trying to help.” And get away without having to go back in there.
I tipped my head and watched them go in with a few whispers about how hot I was, and so nice. My time with Morgan was done. Did I feel bad? No. I’d only met her two hours ago and for all she knew, I was JT37.
The club became too much and I needed to escape. The second I walked out the doors, the thumping music quieted and I instantly felt the calming shift. The air was thick with humidity from the earlier rain as I ducked into a waiting cab and went home alone.
The next morning, I was hoping my teammates wouldn’t bring up my hookup while changing in the locker room, but Jake shattered that dream.
“How was last night?” He wiggled his eyebrows at me before snapping off his towel and shoving on his underwear.
“You need to work on those tan lines. I can’t tell if your pants are still on or if that’s your natural color.” Jake flipped me off with the hand that wasn’t looping through his shirt. I chuckled when Kev slid beside me on the bench and slapped my leg.
“Ow, you fucker,” I said, rubbing what was sure to be a palm mark.
“Don’t be a baby. Spill it. Was Morgan looking for the good time she was alluding too or was she just a tease?”
I shook my head. “Not exactly.”
Jake raised both hands as if to say, What the fuck?
Replaying the night already had my stomach queasy. I didn’t do vomiting, being one of those sympathetic vomiters myself. I see it, hear it, or smell it, and that was it for me. How I held it together, was beyond me.
Kev flicked my nipple, making me flinch. It was still sensitive where Morgan’s incisor had nipped it a little too aggressively.
“Would you stop that!” I smacked his hand away.
“Testy.” Kev snickered. “Must have gone bad. What’s the matter?”
I blew out a breath. These idiots would never let me ignore them. Especially now that we had a frigging group chat. So, with as little enthusiasm as I could, I said, “She had a little too much to drink.” They eyed me skeptically. “Fine, she puked in the bathroom, mid-make out.”
Jake howled in laughter.
“Jesus, you have the best and worst luck, man. This bet is entertaining if nothing else.” Kev slapped me on the back, damn near doubled over clutching his sides laughing.
“Knuckleheads want to wrap it up? The press is coming in five. I suggest you cover up what you don’t want seen on the Sports channels,” Coach barked at us as he passed by.
A collective groan was heard from several of us before we shuffled into our clothes and tucked away our personal shit. Media day blitzes for the preseason warm-ups weren’t anyone’s favorite day. Except for Petra. He loved to showboat. He had already thrown on his muscle shirt and greased up.
It was nothing but fluff pieces about what our expectations for the season were, how we would do better than the last, ya-da ya-da.
If it wasn’t mandatory, I’d have hightailed it out of there.
I wasn’t exactly eager to relive my most horrible moments from last season, again.
Something they always brought up. Like seriously, reminding me of how I missed an easy catch or failed to get everyone on base in the 9th inning with bases loaded…
Yeah. A real nice way to put me in a good mood for this season. The mere thought of it made me cringe. It wasn’t enough that it was already on the highlight reels of the worst plays.
“You’re in a mood. What’s wrong?”
“A mood?” I shook my head at Jake. “What am I, your wife?”
Jake snorted and dipped his head. “Alright, fine. Stop being in a shitty mood. You’re killing the vibe. You still on for poker?”
Fucking poker. The thing that got me into this mess. I needed some redemption from the last game and a way to take Carlos down. “Nah, I got me a date.”
“For real?”
“Yeah. And it’s got to go better than the last,” I muttered, slamming my locker shut.
Jake smirked. “It can’t get worse.”
I nodded my head in agreement, before heading out to the field where eager sports casters were waiting for some interviews.
The evening sun had left a warm glow about the waterfront.
Tonight was going ninety percent better than any of the other dates I had been on over the last week or so.
Quinn was smart, beautiful, funny, and I didn’t even mind her rambling about her job, some sort of industrial sales or something else.
All I knew was that she traveled often, which meant no expectations.
We’d spent the last week making idle chitchat online as I was away in Philly for a three-game stretch. She wasn’t eager to throw herself at me and our conversation had actual words. It almost felt like I had to work for it. A change of pace compared to the others.
We agreed to meet up early with no expectations, but coffee turned into appetizers and cocktails, light flirting, and then dinner and drinks.
It was going well enough she’d invited me back to her place, which was why we were enjoying the afterglow of the sunset, walking along the downtown core to her condo, which was strangely close to mine.
“I had such a lovely time.” She hiccupped softly.
“Are you okay?” I asked as she gripped my elbow.
“Of course. Just didn’t expect to have so much.” She grinned lopsidedly before nuzzling her head against my shoulder.
“Where is it again?” I semi-shrugged her off of me.
“Over there.” She absently pointed to one of four buildings lining the street.
“Okay…” She stopped suddenly to rifle through her large black bag that could have been used as a carry-on. Why women needed duffel bags as purses was beyond me.
“Shit,” she muttered before tilting her head up to me. “You don’t have a light on you, do you?”
Odd, I hadn’t caught even the faintest trace of cigarette smoke from her. “Sorry, no. You’re a smoker?”
“Only when I’m nervous.”
“I make you nervous?”
“Hell yeah. Do you not see you? You’re gorgeous.” She blushed a little once she realized she had said that out loud. I stifled my chuckle, but hearing a woman talk me up did a little something to my ego.
“I’d say the same thing about you.”
The tinge in her cheeks deepened and it was adorable. We walked another block in silence. She had changed from the confident woman who had her tongue down my throat not twenty minutes ago, into quiet and reserved. It was making me think she’d changed her mind about asking me to come back.
Once we got to her place, I walked her to her door.
I gave her a gentle kiss on the cheek when she lunged at me, knocking me back into the wall.
I wasn’t prepared for the hard launch and we stumbled over backwards.
Her lips crushed mine at the same time her hands clawed at my shirt and tugged it apart.
“Woah. I’d like to keep the buttons,” I mumbled with my lips caught in her teeth.
“I’ll replace it,” she groaned back at me.
Who was this little tiger and where was she hiding all night? Guess she hadn’t changed her mind.