Dirty Curve

Avix Inquirer:

Pink balloons or blue?
Does The Playboy Pitcher have some explaining to do?

Pushing out the double doors of the lecture hall, I take the steps two at a time and start the small trek across campus toward Meyer’s apartment. But as I pass the student center, a photo catches my eye and I jerk to a stop, squinting

No…

Tearing my new phone from my pocket, I pull up the school app and scroll down to the newspaper section.

Sure as fuck, there it is.

I zoom in on the image that was published in the school paper this morning and a low curse leaves me. It’s of Meyer and myself, standing right outside our hotel room doors, Bailey’s car seat at our feet. My hand is midair and Meyer’s anxious eyes are on me. The photo must have been snapped seconds before I grabbed ahold of her face and claimed her lips that first time.

The reporter that Neo hooked up with had to have crept back into the hall to take this and sold it to our staff here, knowing she’d get paid a fuck-ton more from them than she would her own school.

It’s one thing to throw a shirtless photo of me on the cover of the school newspaper to help up their sales and online views, but it’s another to exploit Meyer and Bailey.

I’ll have to talk to Coach about this later, see if there’s anything he can do.

So much for keeping a low profile until she was ready.

Rather than talking to her about it over the phone, I keep toward her place, but when I knock, it’s Bianca who answers.

Her eyes widen and she tugs the door closed behind her. “Uh … hi.”

“Hi.” I squint with a laugh. “Meyer in there?”

“She’s not actually. She left earlier.”

“She’s off today.”

Bianca nods. “Yeah, she is.”

I frown. “Where’d she go?”

She opens her mouth, and then closes it, her cheeks filling up with air as she shrugs. “Call her and see?”

“All right …” My eyes narrow. “You know if she saw the school paper today?”

“She hasn’t been on campus, so I doubt it.” She crosses her arms, leaning against the doorframe. “Why?”

Pulling my phone from my pocket, I lift it up and she leans in.

She darts forward, snagging the thing from my hand, hers shooting up to cover her mouth, a muffled, ‘oh fuck’ following. Her strained gaze lifts to mine. “She definitely has not seen this. Don’t tell her about it!”

My head tugs back.

“I mean, just wait until you see her to tell her, or show her, and if she sees it first, fine, but don’t like … send it to her or anything. Let her have the day without adding a new worry.” Bianca bites at her fingernails. “It’s out there, so there isn’t jack you could do about it anyway, you know?”

With a frown, I nod. “Right. You think she’ll be upset?”

A laugh bubbles out of her throat, but it’s mocking, not to mention a little anxious. “Yeah, she’s gonna, might have a mini breakdown to go with. It fucking sucks, I’ll tell you that much.”

“Where is she?”

Her eyes fly up to mine. “Call her and ask,” she repeats. “I have to go, I’m supposed to be on a Zoom call, but I blacked out my screen when you knocked so they could be trying to talk to me this whole time.”

Nodding, I step away, heading toward campus as I try Meyer’s cell, but she doesn’t answer.

We got home late last night, and she was supposed to call me this morning, but when she didn’t, I figured I’d wait until after my exam to try her in case she was able to sleep in.

Guess she didn’t sleep in since she’s already up and out the door before ten-thirty.

I start to text her, but then my phone flashes with Xavier’s name.

“What up, man?”

“Bro, where you at? We said we wanted to leave by ten.”

Wait, what? “Leave where? I just got out of my exam.”

“Us too, dipshit, but we’re going to MiraCosta’s game, remember? Check out the third baseman that’s trying to take my spot on the team next year?”

Fuck.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll be there in ten. I’m on campus.” I hang up, and with a sigh, make my way home, texting Meyer on my way.

Me: I want to see you today, Tutor Girl. Let me make you dinner.

Three little bubbles pop up, letting me know she’s responding, but they disappear a couple times before a message finally comes through.

My Tutor Girl: Hey, I’m sorry, but I’m not going to be home tonight.

My feet freeze in place, an instant frown building. Before I realize what I’m doing, I’ve typed out well where the fuck are you going to be, but quickly delete it and go with something that hides the possessiveness burning inside when every bone in my body is screaming to show it.

Me: Oh, yeah?

I don’t want to sound like a whiny bitch, so I quickly send something else, so she doesn’t have to respond to that.

Me: How about breakfast?

My Tutor Girl: I would say yes, but I don’t want to say yes and have to cancel. Today was a little unplanned, but I’ll call you tonight when I have a chance.

My jaw clenches, and I want to ask her where she’s at and where she’ll be, why she might not be home. She doesn’t have a car and Bianca is at her house, so what other option is there and why didn’t she invite me to tag along?

Now that my exam is over, I’m free and since we’re both off, something that likely won’t happen again, since she’s only off because of the trip to Bispo, I wanted to take her somewhere, get off campus so I could have her to myself again.

Two days wasn’t enough, but maybe it was enough for her?

She didn’t even ask me about my—

My thoughts are cut off when my phone beeps.

My Tutor Girl: By the way, I checked your scores … I KNEW YOU WOULD ACE THAT EXAM!

My mouth hooks to one side, and I lick my lips, getting my ass moving toward my house again.

That right there was all I needed, just a little something from her.

She said she’ll call me tonight, and I’ll be answering on the first fucking ring.

Xavier and Neo are waiting outside for me when I get there, and we load into X’s ride, headed for the game.

I pull up the article in the school paper once more and scroll down to the comments section where people are placing bets on who Meyer is and if the baby in the car seat is mine. There’re the usual haters filling the thread, but it’s the heart-eyes emojis and ‘lucky him’ comments that I focus on.

“What are you smiling at back there, fucker?” Neo teases.

“Your sister sent me nudes,” I joke, looking up in time to dodge his backhand and watch as Xavier shakes his head.

I tuck my phone back in my pocket, smacking the back of the seat. “So, how are we gonna do this? Slide in quietly, sit back and watch this team attempt to look like a team?”

“Nah, we had a better idea.” X laughs, nodding at Neo.

Neo lifts a bag from the floorboard, tossing it my way.

The contents spill in my lap and I can’t help but laugh.

Well, all right then.

It’s the second inning by the time we’re changed and making our way down the main aisle that leads to the bucket seats above their dugouts.

The crowd starts to laugh and shout and just as my boys wanted, we gain the attention of the home team in our shark costumes. The camera crew zooms in on us, putting us up on the big screen. So, we do the little dance our mascot does at the home games and jiggle our shark tales in circles.

The coaches shake their heads, and a few of the players who don’t have their boxers in a bunch laugh, dancing along.

We take the field-level seats Coach hooked us up with and kick back to watch the game, but a half hour in, these fucking things are killing us, so we step out of them, passing them off to some drunk frat boys a few rows back.

By the fourth inning, Xavier has seen all he came to see, and to his frustration, the kid’s not half bad. He has the ability to give X a run for his money next year if Coach decides to take him on, and he just might. If he looks this clean out here, he’ll only look better when he’s playing up a level and against worthy opponents.

X takes off up the steps, and Neo sighs beside me, turning his head to me.

Concern lines his eyes, but he nods, and I know what he’s thinking.

He and his boy will figure it out, he’ll be out there with him day and night, helping him bust his ass, and pushing him like only a good friend would.

“Come on, man. Our boy’s gonna need a beer or five.” Neo pushes to his feet, offering me a hand, but as I stand, something draws my eyes left, and every muscle in my body locks up.

Two sections up and four seats to the right, a familiar messy ball of hair shines in the sun.

Unsure I’m seeing things right, I squeeze my eyes shut, giving my head a little shake, and when they open, nothing’s changed. It’s her.

“Cruz,” Neo snaps, and I reluctantly look to him.

“Go. I’m gonna hang back, get a ride.”

“You sure, bro? ‘Cause once we hit the party, there’ll be no driving for us.”

I nod, pushing him off as I lower back into the seat. “I’m good, man,” I say, unsure he’s even still there to hear it.

All I know is Meyer is here, at a junior college baseball game twenty miles away from campus when I couldn’t even get the girl to come to mine, a D fucking 1 University game that I play in. Sure, she’d have been at my last one had she not found the opportunity to send my mom instead, but that’s not the fucking point.

She’s here and as I stare at the girl across the field, I realize she’s not only here … she’s here with someone, that or the guy to her left has decided to get friendly, attempting to chat her up and waiting to see if she bites.

I think she’s biting.

She leans over, stealing the blond fucker’s popcorn, and laughs when he tosses a small handful at her. Blindly taking my phone from my pocket, I call her, my knee bouncing as I wait to see what she does.

I sit forward when she starts digging in her bag, but it goes to voice mail before she can pull it out, so I quickly redial, and then her phone is in her hands.

My pulse thumps and then it fucking knocks when she slowly tosses the thing back down, my call not even being ignored but disregarded completely.

Then it gets worse.

Meyer shifts in her seat, and suddenly Bailey is there, in her lap, but she doesn’t stay there long.

The dude at her side snags her, bringing her in to kiss her cheek.

The way I like to.

He holds her against him.

The way I’ve done, too.

Anger and confusion swim in my gut, and it’s followed by a searing sense of jealousy, all that mixed with the heat, and I might just fucking vomit.

Who the hell is this dude?

I’ve never seen him and from here, he looks like a tall, decent-looking fucker.

He’s wearing a hat like a hat’s meant to be worn and his tattoos are showing under the sleeves of his T-shirt. It’s not tight like some gym junkie, but it’s easy to see he’s fit.

And that my girl is comfortable with him, maybe too comfortable.

Another thought hits, stinging my insides in ways I can’t explain.

Is this Bailey’s dad?

We’ve never talked about that, her having one or not. Who he is or what he’s like.

If he was a good man or a bad man, or worthy of being called a man at all.

He must be, if this is him, because he’s holding one of my girls and the other sitting beside him would never let him close if he weren’t.

Either way, the girl to his right isn’t his to touch.

She’s mine.

I fly from my seat and walk my ass all the way around the stadium, posting up on the tunnel they’ll be forced to exit through come the end of this game.

Time seems to tick by slowly, but eventually her laughter assaults me, and my fingers begin to twitch. As they step around, the guy throws an arm around her, pulling her to him as she pushes Bailey along in her stroller.

I kick off the wall, jumping right in front of them and blocking their way.

Meyer jerks, her head popping up with a gasp.

Her brows snap together. “Tobias.”

“Tobias?” the guy repeats, his head jerking toward me. “Holy shit! You’re Tobias Cruz—”

His words are cut off when my fist connects with his jaw, sending his neck snapping back, and he drops.

“Oh my god!” Meyer shouts.

I jump on him, rearing back to hit him again, but she shoves at my shoulder.

“Stop!” She forces her body between ours, gently touching the busted skin of the asshole’s cheek. “Are you okay?”

I spit over her shoulder, right into the guy’s face and she jerks around, her eyes wild with anger.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” she screams, shoving at me, so I push to my feet and she follows.

“What’s wrong with you? Huh?” I throw a hand out. “What the fuck am I?”

Nothing, like I’ve been to my family for years.

Like I’d be without ball.

Like I was before Coach gave me more.

Like I was before she came into my life.

I don’t realize I’m backing up, until my shoulder hits the concrete wall opposite of where she stands, her face wrenched tight.

“You know what?” I shake my head. “Fuck this. Fuck you.”

“Watch your fucking mouth, man!” the dude shouts as he pushes to his feet.

My lips curl and I dart forward again, but then Meyer is in my way. In my face.

Stepping fucking closer and my body starts to shake.

Baby …

“He’s my brother.”

I blink. And then I blink again, slowly cocking my head as I stare at her, searching for a sign of deceit but coming up empty.

So, I use her own words, seeking a truth I need more than fucking air. “No lie.”

Her shoulders fall and she shakes her head, whispering, “No lie.”

“He’s your brother?”

“He’s my brother.”

I nod, looking off to the side as I blow out a long, strangled breath and when I face forward, I grab her by the wrist, yanking her to me. “And I’m what?”

“Tobias …”

“Nuh-uh.” I tip my chin, my heart still slamming against my ribs. I need to hear it. Now. I need to fucking feel it. “Tell me, baby … I’m what?”

Her smile is soft, but a fire roars behind her eyes as she says, “More.”

I don’t wait, the need too strong.

I crash my lips to hers and my baby melts against me, kissing me right back.

“Cover your eyes, Bay,” is mock whispered behind us, and Meyer laughs as she pulls away.

It doesn’t take her long to remember I just laid her brother on his ass, and her eyes narrow expectantly, but it’s unnecessary.

I know when I’ve fucked up, and I can approach it like a man.

Holding my palm out, I offer it to the guy and while his eyes narrow, I can spot the hidden smirk on his lips as he slaps his hand into mine, allowing me to pull him to his feet.

His grip is strong and purposeful and when he lets go, he stands to his full height, that isn’t so far off from mine.

I’m still taller.

“My bad, man. I didn’t know you were her family.”

He lifts a blond brow, his knuckles coming up to dab at the blood dripping down his cheek. “So, if I wasn’t, you’d have no problem knocking me on my ass?”

“None at all.”

Meyer drops her face into her hands, but her brother laughs, his other hand coming around to pat at my bicep.

“Then I take it this ‘more’ she called you means you’re good to my sister.”

“When she lets me be. She’s stubborn as shit.”

He laughs, and Meyer shakes her head, flicking her eyes to the sky.

“Sounds about right.” He looks to his sister, who begins to shake her head fervently.

“Milo. No,” she says pointedly.

His grin spreads wider. “So can we skip all this and get to the part where Tobias fucking Cruz is standing in front of me?”

Meyer groans, grabs the stroller, and walks away, leaving her grinning, bleeding brother before me.