Fastball (Wilde Players Dirty Romance) (4 page)

“Ryder?” His voiced has an edge of annoyance to it.

“What?” I snap.

“Damn. What has you so grouchy this morning? You won’t even answer any of my questions.”

“Oh. Sorry. What did you say?”

He points to the counter and says, “Cassidy went to the trouble of cooking breakfast for everyone. Have the courtesy of thanking her even if you don’t want any eggs, bacon, sausage, or toast.”

Lifting my head, I notice the spread of food. “Fuck. Sorry, man.” Then I hunt for Cassie and see her sitting at the table with Mark. I must look like the biggest doucheface. “Thanks, Cassie. I appreciate it. Morning, Mark.” I drag my ass over to the food and fill up a plate because I am starving, actually.

When I sit back down, I dive in and the breakfast is fantastic. “Damn, this is great.” Fletcher looks on with a smirk.

“Didn’t know Cass was a superb cook, did you?”

“Had no clue,” I say around a mouthful of eggs. “Excellent eggs here.”

“You’d better slow it down, Ryder, or you’re going to choke,” Cassidy calls out from the table with a grin.

My plate is polished off, and I’m up for seconds. As I’m going in for the refill, I ask, “How many eggs did you cook?”

She says, “A cool dozen and a half. Fletcher can eat eight on his own if I don’t make anything else to go with them.”

“Yeah, especially during the season. I’m always hungry,” Fletcher says.

“I’m the same way. A bottomless pit. But I don’t have a wife that cooks hanging around.”

“I don’t either. Don’t forget Cass isn’t always here.”

“You poor fucker. Tears are flowing. Boo-fucking-hoo.”

Cassidy laughs along with Mark, and Fletcher flips me off.

“So, what crawled up your ass when you woke up? Was it the fact that some dark-haired little fireball wasn’t around this morning?”

“Shut the hell up.” I’m not going anywhere near the Gina topic with him or Cassidy, especially with Mark sitting here. He and Gina are close, not as close as Cassidy is to her, but I don’t want Mark to go blabbing back to her about me.

“Oh, come on, Ryder. You know I won’t say anything.”

“Dude, you’re married to her best friend. What the fuck!”

We both turn to Cassidy, and she has this super secretive look in her eyes that has me wanting to interrogate her for more information.

But Fletcher beats me to it. “What do you know that you aren’t telling?” he asks.

“Nothing. But if I did, I wouldn’t share anyway. Like Ryder said, I’m her bestie. My lips are sealed. And I’m talking super glued.”

“Women. You always stick together,” Fletch says with a chuckle.

Cassidy gets up and moves next to him. “You love it. Look what it did for us.”

“Yeah, look.”

Then they start to fucking make out like teenagers, and I want to puke up my breakfast. Good God, didn’t anyone tell them that it was rude to show too much PDA? I look over at Mark and make a gag face. He laughs.

“Cut it out, you two,” I finally say.

Fletch pulls his mouth off her with a pop and says, “I’m not sorry, man. I don’t get enough of her since we live apart during the week.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I gotta go shower and get ready for my flight.”

Six hours later, my plane lands in Charlotte. I can’t say I’m happy to be home, but maybe going back to work will take my mind off things. I keep staring at the tiny piece of paper that Cassidy pressed into my hand right before I left. All it said was
Whips And Cuffs—Asheville.
My thoughts are that this must be the sex club Gina frequents sometimes. Maybe Cassidy was trying to point me in this direction. Whatever. The problem is, I have to wait until the weekend since it’s about a two and a half hour drive from here. This weekend would work since we don’t have any games, but it’s anyone’s guess if Gina will be there. I might have to get some help from Cassidy or Fletcher if I’m going to make this work. In the meantime, maybe I can get Riley to ask Gina to one of my games.

When I get to my condo downtown, one of my teammates is crashed there.

“What the hell, Robinson?” I say. “I didn’t give you a key so you could move in here.”

He hangs his head and looks like hell. “Sorry, man. My wife kicked me out.”

“Aw, fuck. What happened?”

“She caught me with that cheerleader.”

I could kick his ass. He has the sweetest wife of any of the guys on the team. “Listen, dude. I hate to say this, but you deserve it. You know how I feel about Kristie. I love that woman of yours. Why the hell did you fuck around on her?”

He rubs his face, shaking his head. “I know. I royally screwed up, man. What am I gonna do?”

“Suck it up and do whatever it is she wants.”

“That’s just it, man. She won’t even talk to me.”

“So what went down?” I ask.

“We were all at the team picnic. You know which one? It’s the one you missed. But, yeah, Delilah shows up and pulls me behind this building and starts blowing me.”

“So, Robbie, what you’re saying is she gave you absolutely no chance of saying—Gee, my wife, Kristie, is right over there, and I don’t think this is very appropriate. Not to mention I love my wife?”

“I know, man. I suck.”

“No, Delilah does.”

He grins and says, “Man, does she ever. Like a fucking Dyson.”

“Dammit, Rob! Get your shit straight here!”

“Okay, okay! So yeah, that’s what happened, and I must’ve been gone too long or maybe it was the groans or something, but Kristie came a looking and there we were, me standing there with my cock and balls deep in Delilah’s throat.”

“Is that it?” I asked the question as a joke, but there was more.

“No, she had her finger up my ass, too.”

“You have shit for brains, Robinson. End of story. Find a good lawyer. That’s my advice. And I hope you lose your ass because you deserve it. Sorry. Not sorry.” I get ready to walk to my room, but then say, “Oh, I need my key back. You can’t stay here. You know my sister lives here now, and this won’t work. Besides, if she finds out what you did to Kristie, she’ll kick your ass all the way to the moon.”

The look on his face is priceless. Jaw slack and hanging open, eyes wide—hell, if I didn’t know better myself, I’d think he was getting sucked off right now. I hold my hand out waiting for said key. He digs in his pocket, pulls out his key chain, and struggles to get it off the ring.

“Can I stay here tonight?”

“Yeah, because Riley’s out of town, but after that, you need to make other arrangements. And for the love of God, stay away from women for the time being.” It’s hard to believe someone can be that stupid. That’s when I decide I’ll never commit to a woman until I know with absolute certainty that she’s
the one.

Dropping my duffle in my room, I pick up my phone and call Riley.

“Hey, sis, I need your help. Can you bring Gina to a game with you?”

“Being that I’m in California right now, I don’t think that’s going to work.”

“I don’t mean today, smartass. I mean like the weekend after next.”

“Why Gina?” She wants to know.

“Why not Gina?”

“I dunno. Just curious.”

“She’s fun, not to mention hot,” I say. “Can you do it?”

“I’ll ask. Just beware. She’s not the settling down type.”

A gust of laughter bursts from within me. “What the hell, Ri? Who said anything about settling down? I just want to get to know her a little better so maybe I can ask her out.”

“Well, you already fucked her, so don’t you know her well enough?”

“Wow. That’s a bit harsh, isn’t it? Don’t you like her?”

“I do. Just being cautious for you, bro.”

I pause a moment. “Since when have you been so protective of me?” I ask.

She quiets. “Okay, I’ll ask. But if anything goes down that isn’t good between you two, don’t blame it on me.”

“Why the hell would I do that?”

“And don’t put me in the middle. I want to be her friend, you know?”

“Okay, okay. Gotcha. Just let me know a good day for you two. And thanks, Ri.”

“You got it.”

After we end the call, I think about how weird it all was. It almost sounded like Riley was jealous of me being with Gina. Like she wanted to be her friend only. She’s never done that before, so why now? Maybe I’m just imagining things.

Next on my list is to google that sex club. I need to find out all about it. Maybe I’ll take a trip there myself this weekend if I have the opportunity. Check things out, see what it’s all about. I’m sure one of the guys would be happy to go with me. Who in their right mind wouldn’t want to watch people having sex out in the open?

When I pull it up online, it looks a lot classier than I imagined. The best thing about it is you have to sign an NDA when you enter and no cameras or phones are allowed inside. That’s good for me. I wouldn’t want my picture to show up online in connection with a sex club. Wouldn’t be good for my reputation.

The next day at practice, I hit up one of my teammates, David Lester—a third baseman, to see if he wants to head over to Asheville for the weekend.

“What’s all the way in Asheville?” David asks.

“You know, it’s cooler since it’s up in the mountains. The leaves might be starting to change colors since fall’s here, and I want to check out this cool club I’ve been hearing about. There are supposed to be some hot women who go there.”

“I’m in.”

“Great. We’ll leave Saturday late afternoon since we don’t have a game.”

“Sounds good. Do you want to get us reservations someplace to stay overnight?” he asks.

“Yeah, I’ll take care of it.”

That night I make reservations at The Grove Park Inn, which is an old yet exclusive hotel that is close to the club.

On Saturday, we hit the road, and David talks nonstop. I swear, he’s part woman. He’s worse than my sister. The only thing he gives me a chance to say is, “Uh huh.” He gives me the rundown on everything from the new boxer briefs he bought online to the car he’s thinking about buying for his sweet grandmother who lives outside of some small town in the middle of a cornfield in Indiana.

“You wouldn’t believe the corn there, man. It’s the best tasting stuff you’ve ever had.”

“Uh huh.”

“Next time I go up in the summer, I’ll bring you back a dozen or two ears.”

“Uh huh.”

“Hey, so …”

I’m never so happy to see the entrance to a hotel in my life, as I am to see The Grove Park Inn. “Let’s say we get checked in and then grab some dinner here. Then maybe head out around nine. You good with that?” I ask.

“Sure. Are there any cool tours we can take while we’re here?” he asks.

“Tours. Tonight?”

“Yeah. Like, is there any kind of specialties here or anything? Like country basket weaving or pipe making?”

“What the fuck! We’re not at Dollywood. But the Sierra Nevada Brewing Company has tours. That’s pretty cool.”

“Nah, I’m more interested in the local flavor.”

“So, you’d rather watch someone weave baskets instead of touring a brewery? What kind of a man are you?”

David is a big guy. He shrugs his hugely defined shoulders, and they stretch the fabric of the shirt he wears. “I kinda like the homey stuff. I’m like that. Thought maybe there was somewhere they made corn pipes around here.”

Corn pipes? Who the hell is this guy?

“Dude, I grew up in California, surfing and playing baseball, and only came to visit my cousins here, so I don’t know too much about corn pipes.” Now I’m wondering what good ol’ David is going to think when I take him into Whips and Cuffs. Maybe I should’ve looked for a club called Corn Liquor and Porch Swings instead.

We meet for drinks and dinner, and one thing about David is he loves his brown liquor. Jack on the rocks. That probably should’ve told me a little about him. After we finish up, David’s downed four or maybe five drinks and is feeling rather good. Time to Uber it over to the club because it’s past nine. I don’t want to be the first one there, but I don’t want to go if it gets too crowded to get in either.

Our ride pulls into the parking lot and there’s no sign, so I ask to make sure we’re in the right place.

“So, I can guess you’ve never been here?” he asks.

“Never,” I answer.

A hearty laugh rips out of him. “Have fun, gents,” he says as we get out of the car. We can hear him laughing even as the car is a block away.

“What was that all about?” David asks.

“I don’t know.”

“What’s the name of this place anyway?” he asks.

“Whips and Cuffs,” I mumble as I take giant strides toward the entrance.

“I didn’t get that,” I hear him yell from over my shoulder, but I ignore him as I walk through the door.

The entrance is a dimly lit foyer with three huge bouncers guarding the second door.

“Welcome. Returning or new?” one of the giants asks. I’m a fairly tall guy at six feet four inches, and I have to tilt my head up to see his eyes. Good thing he doesn’t recognize me. For once I’m glad someone isn’t into baseball.

“New.”

By this time, David is right behind me.

“He with you?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. Here are the rules. You must sign an NDA. Anyone you see inside, you must not speak of outside of this place. If they do not acknowledge you, you cannot speak to them here. Clear so far?”

“Yes.”

The guy is silent. I turn to see what’s happening with David and he’s staring at the guy. I nudge him with my elbow. “Oh, yeah. Clear,” he says.

“Good. Next, absolutely no pictures. Are you carrying?”

“Guns?” I ask.

He huffs out a breath. “Phones or cameras of any kind,” he answers with great disdain. Then he points with his thumb over his shoulder and says, “The guy behind me is gonna pat you down and check for weapons.”

“Oh, damn. I have my phone. David?”

“Yeah, I have a phone.”

“We’ll have to check those for you, and you can get them when you leave. If that’s a problem, then you can’t get in.”

“Not a problem for me. David?”

“No problem.”

“Finally, anything you see in here, you must not discuss outside of this club. Clear? If you do, you will be in violation of this NDA.”

“Okay,” I say.

He pulls out the NDA, and we both sign. He gives us copies and says that he’ll check them with our phones, and we can get them when we leave. Then he hands us a little ticket stub. After that, we pay a fifty-dollar entrance fee, and he puts a band around our wrist.