Dirty Curve

The moment I step from the child development center, I jolt to a stop.

“Jesus.” My hand flies to my chest, and I glare. “What are you doing here?”

“Not even a hello for me, hm?”

“Hello, boss.” I fold my arms. “What are you doing here?”

He eyes me a long moment, before his chin lifts. “I moved all your appointments for the next two days around.”

I frown. “Why? I don’t have any of your players until Thursday evening.”

“Because we don’t get back until Wednesday night, but it’s midterms for them straight away.

“I don’t get it.”

“Go home, pack your bag, be at the athletic department by four tonight. You’ll ride with the equipment team to Cal Poly.”

My face falls. “What ride?”

“My star player has requested his tutor to join him on the road this week since his grades are barely hanging on, says he needs all the extra help he can get before midterms.” His eyes narrow. “Wonder why he thinks you would agree to that?”

My head throbs instantly. “Maybe he knows the choices aren’t technically mine … but you told him, no,” I add, sure. Of course, he did.

He sticks his hands in his pocket, his frown deepening. “While you’re on the road, your sessions will be virtual. I’ve already let the students know.”

“What … no. I can’t.”

“Why not?”

I gape at him. “Are you serious? Just because you’re ashamed of me and my life doesn’t mean I don’t have one to manage.”

His gaze darts away but comes right back, and I get the sense this isn’t something he’s okay with, but baseball trumps all, as usual. “You’ll get a travel bonus, one for you, and one to cover your sitter while you’re gone.”

A laugh bubbles out of me, but it’s mocking.

He really thinks I would leave my daughter behind and travel hours away for two, three days?!

I don’t say it out loud, but something has his eyes narrowing, searching mine.

I hate the way he looks at me.

Clearing my throat, I stand tall. “I can’t just pick up and go. I have another job I need to be at tomorrow night. Thanks to you, I can’t afford to lose it by calling out.”

“At that diner, right?”

My head tugs back. “It’s not your concern.”

He scoffs and begins to walk away. “Call your boss and make it happen. Full details are in your inbox.”

I look to the screen on my phone with a growl, and shout back, “I didn’t get an email!”

He glances over his shoulder, his eyes meeting mine. “Might have sent it to your personal one by mistake.”

My chest weighs heavy, but I don’t show it.

I unlock my phone and plan to send a text to Tobias, telling him to be prepared for me to chew him out, but I pause, going to my emails instead.

I skim the information, my eyes bulging when I get to the bonus information listed.

They’re offering a thousand dollars a day, plus room and meal vouchers at the hotel. On top of that, another twenty-five hundred for childcare.

Suddenly I no longer feel the need to argue, so I hit ignore when Tobias calls not two minutes later, likely having already heard, his beloved coach delivering the news.

This will cover me and leave me with a little extra for the next few months.

With a deep breath and a smile on my face, I walk right back into the day care center to sign out my baby girl.

I’m back home within thirty minutes, packing for the trip I was coerced into taking when there’s a knock at my door.

I’m expecting Bianca, but right behind her is Tobias, in all his sweatpants and sleeveless glory, with a box of bagels in his hand.

“Be warned, there’s a naughty man in Nike coming in hot,” she singsongs as she pushes through the door. “And he comes with carbs.”

Behind her, Tobias wiggles his brows, but I shake my head, running back into the living room to pick up the dirty clothes off the floor.

On my way home, I called Bianca to tell her about the trip and the bonus and like I knew she would, she asked if she could stay at the apartment for some downtime and told me to claim that sitter fee for myself. So, I am. Bailey won’t be staying behind, but the school doesn’t have to know that.

Bianca tosses her bags on the floor and hops right up on the bed, crawling up to Bailey. “Auntie B is here, baby B!” She smiles down at her and Bailey grins, sticking her fingers in her mouth. “Tell your mama to let you stay with me.”

Bailey makes a cooing sound and Bianca laughs.

“Tell your auntie B she’s lost her mind.”

Bianca and Tobias both chuckle and as if she recognizes his voice, Bailey’s head snaps to the left.

She searches the room and when he gets closer, his knees hitting the metal of the fold-out bed, she lets out a little squeal. Her legs start to kick, and her arms begin to wiggle.

“Well at least someone’s excited to see me,” he teases as he drops his fist onto the bed and lowers his upper body, letting her reach up for his hat with fumbled movements. “Hi Bailey Bay, you ready for a road trip?”

My stomach muscles clench and I go back to stacking onesies in the diaper bag.

Sensing Bianca’s eyes on me, I cut her a quick glance. She gives nothing away, but I know her. She wants to smile as much as she wants to scowl.

Same girl. This, whatever it is, is scary.

Tobias picks up on something and looks from her to me as he stands, but Bianca makes sure no tension is created by reaching over to snag the box he set on the arm of the couch. “So he comes unannounced and bearing gifts.” She bites into a blueberry bagel, speaking with her mouth full. “My guess is he has something to say.”

“He should have a whole lot to say, considering I’m packing a bag for a trip I didn’t know I was going on.”

Tobias chuckles, looking to me with a giant grin. “Sorry about that.”

“Uh-huh.” My eyes narrow. “Your smile is too big. Spill.”

It grows deeper. “Bus driver owes me a favor, team coordinator, too.”

“K…”

“They’re counting me on my bus, counting you on your bus, and we are driving up together tonight. I got a rental.”

My face falls and Tobias’s excitement dwindles.

“Tobias, Coach Reid won’t—”

“Fuck him,” Bianca snaps, catching herself mid eye roll. “I mean … who cares, right?”

Tobias frowns but keeps his attention on me. “He won’t know. Him and Doc fly out tomorrow at noon, team leaves at eight. You’ll be at check-in tonight; I’ll meet them at the field mañana at two.”

“So, you think you’ll be staying in her room tonight, do you?” Bianca raises a brow.

His smirk is slow. “Like I said, the team coordinator owes me one.”

“That’s not a no.” Bianca fights a smile and Tobias’s grows.

I toss a diaper at her, and she tosses it into the bag with the others as she drags herself to her feet. “Hurry up and get out of here. I’m ready to have this place to myself, plus or minus one.”

“The one better be Coop,” Tobias teases.

She pauses at the bathroom door, spinning to face him with her hands on the frame. “Coop will be with you, four hours away.” She smirks, closing herself in the bathroom.

Tobias turns to me.

“She told you that on purpose.”

He chuckles, but his expression grows an anxious kind of excited.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“That was a quick nothing.” My eyes narrow with suspicion, but Tobias only grins wider, spinning to my giant pile of ‘must haves’ it takes to travel with an infant.

He claps his hands and then starts loading us up. “Road trip here we come!”

q

“Okay, known for their materialistic society, the Lycurgus founded who around 800 BC?”

“AC/DC.”

I laugh, falling back against the headboard.

“‘Highway to Hell’, ‘Let There Be Rock’, ‘Back in Black’.” He grins.

“Come on! That’s the third one in a row you’ve missed. No more rock star knowledge! You have to get a ninety or better.”

“Maybe I don’t want to.”

I roll my eyes, playing a quick game of peekaboo with Bailey as she tries to tug her foot to her mouth.

“For reals.” He looks over. “Maybe I want as much Meyer time as I can get.”

I shove him and he grins, pulling himself up beside me.

“We’re already studying a ridiculous number of hours.”

“Who said anything about studying?” he says in a light roar, lifting Bailey up so she can push off on her tiptoes.

“Right.” I laugh. “Well, this little trip you forced me into did manage to give me my first full weekday off in forever.”

“Oh, yeah? Does that mean you’re coming to my game?” He smirks, but his tone is painfully hopeful.

I shake my head, and he looks away, but not before his frown takes over.

“I’m on the clock both days we’re here, but I guess the school’s required to give a twenty-four-hour leave after staff travel, so Thursday I’m free and I can’t wait.”

“Guess you should thank me for making this happen,” Tobias jokes, teasing Bailey with the bill of his hat, and then tears it off quickly, but she doesn’t care. Her hands still go right for his head, her little palms rubbing across the dark strands, and not a second later, she dips forward, attempting to bite him.

Tobias grins, pulling her back, and her eyes dart my way, going straight to the bun on top of my head. She jolts in again, ready to grab at it, but I lean back.

“Awe, come on, she wants yours now.” He makes a pouty face, shimmying Bailey a bit. “Is she being mean, Bailey Bay?”

With a playful sigh, I pull my hair free, letting it fall around me, and Tobias wastes no time, blindly grabbing a long strand and holding it up, tickling and teasing her with it.

She tries to grab it, but he moves it just fast enough that she can’t quite get it, and she begins jumping in his hold, smiling and giggling like crazy.

His chuckle is warm, and when my head turns to look at him, his follows. His blue eyes meet mine, a tenderness written within them. His mouth curves a little higher, but it’s different than his usual grin, expressive in a way that makes my throat run dry.

But everyone gets in their feelings when an infant’s smiling at them, and Bailey hasn’t stopped.

She lets out a squeaky scream and a laugh leaves me.

My lips pull to one side. “She wants your attention back.”

Tobias’s eyes move between mine, and now his grin is full of conceit.

“Of course, she does.” He gives her what she wants, focusing on her. “They all do.” He leans forward, making ridiculous faces she seems to enjoy. “All but your ma, Bailey Bay.”

My stomach leaps into my chest and he knows it, a mischievous chuckle escaping him.

I push his shoulder with mine before climbing off the bed as an excuse to face away, and walk over to my bag, pulling out a hairbrush. I sit on the vanity chair, brushing the tangles out of my hair since I just tore the hair tie from it. As I grab it all in my palms again, twisting to throw it right back up, my eyes shift in the mirror.

Tobias is propped against the pillows, half lying down and half sitting up, Bailey’s chest on his. He’s looking at something on his phone, his other arm wrapped around her lower back to make sure she doesn’t roll off.

Bailey pats his jaw, squeezes his nose, and drags her hands down his face to pinch at his mouth. Tobias tips his chin, allowing her to explore the shape of him however she wishes, but that’s not even the part that creates the ache in my chest. It’s the way his lips pucker the slightest bit, as if he’s pecking her fingers adoringly, if he even realizes it.

I don’t think he does.

I think it’s natural.

He likes her.

Right then, his eyes fly my way, instantly finding mine in the mirror, and my stomach dips.

He doesn’t look away, and I’m not sure how long my hand stays frozen in the air, my hair half twisted up, but neither of us snaps out of it until Bailey begins to fuss.

Her bow slips off when she buries her head in his neck, and she begins rubbing her eyes as a fake little cry leaves her.

“I think someone’s hungry, mama.”

I nod, allowing my hair to fall back down, and his gaze follows the movements.

Tobias pushes to his feet and I spin on the vanity chair.

When he’s taking his last step toward me, I finally remember to stand, reminding myself to breathe as I do.

He passes Bailey to me, but his hands don’t fall to his side, but instantly reach forward, pushing my hair over my shoulder, his fingers lingering near my exposed collarbone.

His jaw flexes, his eyes lifting to mine as he brings one strand back, handing it to Bailey. “She likes to hold it when you feed her, right?”

Pressure falls on my ribs, but I manage to bob my head a little.

He’s silent another moment, and then he steps back, jerking his chin toward his room. “I’m gonna take a shower, maybe order some room service after …”

“K,” I whisper.

I think he wants me to say more, to confirm I’m not going to bed or ask him to order me something too, but I can’t bring myself to say another word, and so he heads into his room, pulling my conjoining door closed, but not all the way.

I settle onto the bed to feed Bailey, wondering what the hell I’m doing and fully aware I’m at the edge of no return.

I don’t know what to do, but I know what I want to do, and it’s not the morally correct option.

It’s the selfish, lonely, hopeless one.

Tobias

“If she wakes up, we’ll hear her. If not because she’s ten feet away, then because of this.” Meyer lifts the monitor up, shaking it.

I glare at the connecting door. “How effective are those things? ‘Cause this is a giant hotel and there’s another door that leads to that room.”

“Two if you count the other side door.”

My head swoops toward hers and Meyer laughs.

“Oh my god, the door is literally half open.” She fights a grin when my glare deepens. “Okay, fine. I can turn this on, walk all the way to my garbage cans in the alley, and hear her on this just fine. I don’t … but I can. I tested it with Bianca’s awful singing voice.” She grins.

I lean back on the bed, peeking through the gap of the door.

“What are you doing?” she teases.

“If I lean back a little more” —my back stretches, my hands gripping the edge of the mattress— “I think I can see the edge of the playpen—oh shit!”

I slip off the edge of the fucking bed, my chips falling and spilling around me.

Meyer starts laughing her ass off, her hand coming up to cover her mouth.

“You better quit,” I warn, but the girl laughs even harder.

“Oh, you think it’s funny, huh?” I grin.

She shakes her head, trying to get out an ‘I’m sorry’ but she can’t stop laughing. Her palm drops to the comforter, so I quickly pull my shoulders off the ground, gripping her by the wrist.

I tug her toward me, catching her other wrist as she falls right on top of me. Her palms flatten on my chest, and she chuckles, nearly choking, but then her head lifts, her hair still loose and falling in front of her.

Her laughter dies on her lips, and she clears her throat.

I can see it in her eyes. She wants to flirt, but more than that, she wants to be flirted with.

And then she wants what follows.

The pull in her core, the heat between her legs, the kind that only burns deep with the touch of a man.

A man who wants her just as much.

What’s holding you back, baby?

Her chin dips, and she peeks up at me through her lashes. “Mind if I use your shower, I don’t want to wake her after the long ride today.”

I nod, the idea of her naked in my room sending a jolt through me.

My dick thickens, hardening beneath her, so I quickly roll her onto her back, lifting my hips so they’re no longer touching hers and before she can feel me grow.

I jump up, offering her my hand and smirking at the way her lips have parted. “Put your hand in mine, Tutor Girl.”

A heady laugh leaves her and she does as I ask, allowing me to tug her to her feet.

“Shower’s all yours, Tutor Girl,” I rasp, letting her go.

She slips into her room, quietly returning with some clothes and a grocery bag with her soaps in it. Her eyes slide to mine as she reaches the bathroom door, but she quickly pushes it open, closing herself inside.

The shower turns on, and I blow out a long breath, flopping onto my bed, looking up at the ceiling.

Fuck me, this girl.

I bang my head against the pillow, chuckling at the irony of the situation.

Me, Tobias Cruz, the tabloid playboy, shacked up in a hotel room with a girl I can’t even beg to touch me. Of course she’s the one I want to touch me.

I want her to step into that shower, and then call me in to join her, allowing me the pleasure of taking her dripping wet, of making her drip, I’d have her so wet.

So fired up.

She’d burn from the inside out, the way I do.

My gaze falls with my exhale, freezing when my eyes meet the long mirror on the wall … directly across from the bathroom door, the frosted bathroom door.

Slowly, I push up as Meyer, on the other side of it, slips from her clothes.

I can’t see her body, but the shape of her is clear, a perfect silhouette.

She’s curvy and smooth and a perfect fucking woman.

And that woman stops moving, hesitating where she stands for who the hell knows what reason, and my body plays games on me, tenses and flexes and aches, anticipation fucking burning me at my core.

It only lasts for a moment though, and then the squeak of the shower door sounds, her figure disappearing as she steps inside.

My eyes close, and I tune into the sound of the water falling, to the way it pours harder and then softer, allowing me to create a visual of her exact movements in my head. Before I realize what I’m doing, my muscles lock up on me, my eyelids popping open to find my dick hard and in my hand.

My chest rises and falls rapidly, and I squeeze my shaft, desperate to ease the ache the mere thought of Meyer has created. I groan, pumping myself in my hand once, twice, and my head falls back.

I picture the hollow of her breasts and the width of her hips, of her perky ass and imagine the silky soft feeling of sliding between it.

My dick throbs, my breath hitching as I thrust into my hand, but then my body freezes and I jolt up, my hands flying to my head and rubbing along my face.

Too mortified to spin my body, I cut my eyes toward that second room where a little one sleeps.

Shame washes over me, and I dart toward the small, second sink, quickly splashing water on my face.

I smack my forehead as I grip the countertop, bending at the waist.

Dragging in a deep breath, I stand, spinning on my feet. Right as I do, the bathroom door swings open, and Meyer steps out.

And fuck me, an old T-shirt never looked so good. One that’s too long for me to know what, if anything, is underneath.

Her hair is down and slung to one side over her chest, the tips dripping wet, right where her nipples are peeking through.

She jerks to a stop when she realizes I’m right here, no more than two feet in front of her, and those brown eyes of hers rise.

A nervous little laugh follows. “You scared me.”

My fingers ache to touch her, to pull her closer, and I think she knows it, because the corner of her eyes crease the smallest bit.

She’s afraid, but not of me, of what might happen next.

Her tongue pokes out, anxiously swiping across her lips, and suddenly I’m hard again.

“It’s getting late, we should really get to bed,” she barely whispers.

She has no idea the effectiveness her accidental tone holds, it’s rich and throaty, sexy. An unintentional hint of her not so well-hidden desire.

She’s feelin’ me, and I want her to give in.

To take, ‘cause, fuck me, I’m ready to give.

I’ll give her anything she wants if she lays those lips on mine.

I’ll do all the work. I just need her to make the move.

Make the move, baby…

She doesn’t. Instead, turning her body so she can slip past me without so much as brushing me. But before she can disappear into her room, I spin, darting my hand out to grab ahold of her wrist, keeping her there.

I can’t bring myself to turn toward her, not if dismissal is what I’ll find, so while staring at the place she was, I say, “Tell me you like me.”

When her wrist twitches in my palm, my eyes snap to meet hers, though my body remains facing away.

“Tobias …” Her shoulders pinch.

“Just …” Fuck. Now I do spin toward her, stepping in but not over the threshold of our connecting doors. “At least tell me you don’t hate being here.”

She softens before me. At her side, her hand begins reaching out for me, maybe even subconsciously, because at the last second she realizes it, lowering it right back to her side.

“I don’t hate being here,” she murmurs, her chin lowering as her eyes hold mine.

I don’t miss the hint of color that’s risen along her neck, or the way her toes begin to curl into the carpet beneath her feet.

My smirk is slow. “You like being here, don’t you?”

Her laugh is husky and low, and a small grin now plays at her lips. “Good night, Hotshot.”

I bite at mine, unwilling to take my eyes off of her. “‘Night, Tutor Girl.”

You’ll be the star of my show tonight.