Stealing You (Boston Blues #3)

Prologue – Beck

Midseason - July

“Alright, I’ve seen your slutty thigh tattoo, but there’s no fucking way you’re pierced.” Jensen pins me with a look that makes my very-much pierced dick twitch.

We may be surrounded by all our friends for a game of poker, so hell, I’ll call her hand. She’s the one who started this conversation—not to mention, she’s a licensed piercer and a soon-to-be licensed tattoo artist—as if I would let this opportunity pass me by.

I give her a cocky grin. “Want to find out, Jennie? I’ll show you all my slutty tattoos and piercings if you ask nicely.”

Jensen clenches her jaw as she grits out, “In your fucking dreams, Beckham.”

Oh, they are, Jenni-cakes. And while she might play like she’s not interested, I’m pretty positive I’m in her dreams too.

The rest of the table takes her words like the dismissal she wanted, but I don’t miss the rise and fall of her chest with the breath she takes. I don’t miss the flash of her eyes down and immediately back up. Almost as if she wanted to picture it but wouldn’t allow herself to.

My best friend, Dex, sits across from me with his former nanny, Lucie, who he’s head over ass for, and she leans on the table. “Anyway! Miles and I have been trying to talk Dex into playing again.”

All my attention switches over to Dex, because what does Lucie mean “trying”?

“Why the hell have you not immediately agreed to this?”

“I second Beck. Actually, turning up the aggression, why the fuck not?” Our newest starting pitcher, Will, backs me up. Which is slightly surprising, considering Dex is his pitching coach. But Lucie is his sister and if she wants it, then I guess he knows it’s better to just be on board.

Tripp, our third baseman, starts snapping his fingers at Emma, our general manager’s daughter and the new team assistant. “Ems, get your dad on the phone.”

Emma doesn’t even seem fazed by the demand because, apparently, they’re friends, which was a major shock to everyone here.

We knew Olsson had a daughter, even though she hadn’t really been around much since he took over as our GM.

When she started as our new team assistant, I half expected Tripp to hit on her, not tell us they’ve actually been close friends for a couple years now.

Dex sends Lucie a look with a deep sigh. “No, for fuck’s sake, can you all chill out? I’m perfectly happy where I’m at. You all can drop it now.”

The fuck I will. He’s lost his mind if he thinks I’m going to drop this now.

“Nah.” I wave my hand dismissively. “Hate that. Next option.”

Jensen’s eyes meet mine for a brief moment before she nudges our team catcher, Adam. “Wait, can he even come out of retirement?”

Adam shrugs. “I mean, yeah. Olsson, I’m sure, would extend him a contract easily.”

“I’m not above forgery,” Lucie adds.

This time it’s me snapping my fingers at Emma. “Great. Emma, get your dad on the phone.”

Callie, our team photographer, hits my arm and whips out her phone. “Quit snapping at her, this is her first game night. I’ll do it.”

“Okay!” Dex yells. “I’ll tell you what—you guys win the World Series and I’ll play again.”

Our table goes silent. I don’t love the idea of waiting to have Dex play with us again, but if he wants to make it a challenge so be it. Just ask Jensen, I love a challenge.

I extend my hand. “Alright, Dad, bet?”

Dex begrudgingly shakes it before turning to pull Lucie’s chair closer and starts whispering in her ear. There’s a tug in my chest when she smiles back at him. I can’t seem to think of anyone who deserves happiness quite like Dex and Lucie do.

When Dex leans in to kiss her temple, I relax back in my chair and let my eyes wander over to Jensen—I can’t say I want that love from her. I don’t want a relationship from anyone, really.

I love my team. I love my friends. I love seeing my friends all happy and in love. However, I don’t want it, and I don’t exactly know how to explain why without someone trying to rationalize with me.

The pull I have toward Jensen I can’t really understand, and I know I should let it go, but something in me hasn’t been able to stop thinking about her since the night I met her.

Callie technically met her first—something to do with some weird “dating-not-dating” thing—I don’t really know nor care how it happened. But when Callie brought her to the bar, I nearly choked on my drink.

Her silky black hair falls over her shoulders.

Red and black tattoos start from her fingertips then up to the Marigold tattoos on her collarbone which are my personal favorites.

When I asked her about them, she talked about their callback to her Mexican heritage, and I think that might have been our first conversation where she didn’t completely blow me off.

As the night comes to an end, I keep one eye on Jensen as she talks to Lucie and Dex in the living room as I help Callie clean up the poker chips.

“She’s going to knock you on your ass, Beck,” Callie says under her breath.

I snort a laugh. “I can’t wait. Think it’ll bruise?”

“Gross.” Callie tosses a chip at me. “She’s about to leave, so hurry up and help me so you can follow her out like the lovesick puppy you are.”

Eh, here we go.

Outright saying “I just want to fuck her” will likely earn me a slap from Callie, and I wouldn’t blame her…

but there’s more to it than that. I may play the field in baseball, but I’m picky as hell when it comes to sleeping with someone.

So damn picky that I haven’t even entertained the idea of anyone except Jensen since the moment I laid eyes on her.

Not to mention, the ones before Jensen were very few and way far between.

Unless it was abundantly clear it wasn’t going to turn into anything more than a one-night stand—it wasn’t happening. The smallest hint—I mean the tiniest gut feeling—that the other person’s thinking maybe I could change his mind—nope, not happening.

I don’t entertain the reasons for being so hung up on Jensen. Could be that she seems to hate our palpable chemistry, and what better match-up than with someone who doesn’t want anything to do with me other than getting some orgasms out of it?

Maybe it’s once and out of our system… Maybe it’s friends with benefits… Maybe it’s just chemistry that will die out on its own and we’ll still be left with this friend dynamic.

“At the risk of sounding like a complete asshat, I’m going to trust you love me enough to know what I mean when I say you know that’s not what this is.

” I have my reasons and they’re mine alone.

I love Callie like a sister, but this just isn’t something I can tell her, or anyone else for that matter.

Callie hums and her lips form a thin line. She does that every time she’s dying to say something but chooses not to.

“Spit it out. You know you wanna.”

Callie shakes her head. “No, I have nothing to say.”

I snort. Yeah fucking right. “Well, that would be a first.”

She sends me a smart-mouthed grin. “Watch it, or I’ll only submit shit photos of you for the rest of the week.”

I let out a low whistle. “The injustice.” I note Will making his way over to us and send Callie a wink. “You know I love you most anyway, Callie Bear.”

Will wraps Callie up in his arms all possessively. “Okay, time’s up. Get out of my house.”

The tug in my chest comes back as Callie rests her head back on his chest. “You’re interrupting our girl talk.”

Will laughs, loosening his hold. “Yeah, well, Jensen just walked out, so who am I really doing the favor by kicking him out?”

I toss the last of the chips in the lid of the case. “Sorry, Callie Bear, gotta do what the man says.”

“Yeah, yeah, go on.” She waves me off, and I plant a quick kiss to the top of her head to really get under Will’s skin.

Racing down the hall, I grab the elevator just before it closes. As I step in, I see my Jennie all cute and angry.

“Desperate much?” she huffs out.

“Oh, come on, don’t act like you’re not happy to see me. It’s the same look you get when I meet you for our Tuesday runs.”

The joy I felt when I randomly ran into Jensen running with her dog a couple months ago and realized that we both loved a long ass run. I do that route every Tuesday my schedule allows—and the kicker, she still does too.

We may seem to be polar opposites, but sometimes I think we might have a little more in common than it appears.

Jensen gives me an eye roll. “Oh, my desperate, delusional stalker.”

Ah, the insults and name calling. I turn to face her. “So possessive with your little ‘my.’ If you want me to be yours, Jenni-cakes, all you have to do is ask.”

Jensen chokes on the air as she snorts a laugh. “You’re not mine, Beckham. I’m not yours. Those titles have very little appeal to me.”

“I get it, I might be a romantic for other people, but I don’t need the label in order to hear you scream my name.”

Jensen cocks her head. “Will I be screaming from the trunk of your car, some secret room in the basement…abandoned cabin, maybe?”

I step closer to her. “God, I love when you flirt with me.”

Her nostrils flare as she lets out a deep breath. “You’re exhausting.”

Exhausting… Not, “get lost.” Not, “leave me alone.”

The corners of my mouth turn up. “I could exhaust you in other ways if you’re tired of this one?”

This sexy grin comes to her face as she turns to face me, then meets my step. “Maybe you do have a pierced dick, you talk like you do…” Her inked hands brush against my chest before landing on my shoulders. “Let me see.”

In a flash, Jensen’s hands grip my shoulders, and her knee connects with my dick just as the elevator dings.

“Still can’t tell. Maybe next time,” she says, then walks out as I crumple to the floor.

The pain isn’t enough to distract me from the “next time” comment.

I let out a breath and find a little strength to grit out, “Next time it is, Jenni-cakes.”