Bring The Heat: A Bad Boy Sports Romance (Bad Boys of Summer Book 1) (17 page)

Paris laughed and clapped her hands together, the sound ricocheting around the small bar space. “Oh you hussy! I love it!”

I joined in with her easy laughter. “It was amazing, Paris. He brings out this whole new wild side of me. I have absolutely no inhibitions and all I can think about is how much I want him.” I leaned in, dropping my voice even lower. “It’s like being completely out of control and free. Like an
animal
!”

“That’s how it’s
supposed
to be! Why do you think Robby and I can’t keep our shit together for two minutes without trying to get it on?”

I rolled my eyes. I doubted that Cody and I would ever be that bold, but maybe a hot hook up in a bathroom…I shook my head, surprised by my own dirty little thought. “That’s more a sickness, I figure.”

Paris shoved me playfully. “Don’t be jelly!”

“With you two, I figure its more make-up sex. If you’re not fighting like cats and dogs, then you’re…”

“Fucking like them?” she supplied, raising one of her perfect brows.

I grinned. “Something like that. You two all sorted out now?”

She nodded happily. “Yup. He got home from his trip and we sorted that shit out. He just wanted to get at me. So he agreed to meet with a wedding planner next month.”

I popped a fully loaded chip into my mouth. “Wow. Congrats.”

“Thank you.” She sighed and leaned into the bar. “Man, it’s all coming together, huh? Maybe by next summer Cody and Robby will be best friends and he can be his man of honor or whatever it’s called and you can be my maid of honor.”

“Man of Honor?” I repeated, unable to keep a laugh from bubbling forth. For a woman who was on a mission to get to the alter, she certainly didn’t have the terminology to back it up.

“Whatever. It’d be cute in the pictures so just roll with it, okay?”

“Yes, ma’am!” I mocked a salute. “But I wouldn’t hold your breath. Cody and I are just keeping things casual.”

Paris stared at me. “What does that even mean? Like he’s seeing other people?”

My stomach flipped abruptly at the thought, threatening to toss the chips and salsa I’d chomped down. “No…I mean…I don’t think he is.”

Paris shrugged and pushed up from the bar. She tossed back the last foamy gulp from her glass and pushed it away. Her suitor—aka the barely legal bartender—raced to offer her another. She turned it down. “No, thank you. We have a ball game to catch.”

“The Warriors?” he asked.

“That’s right, darling. You a fan?”

He nodded emphatically. “Big time! I make sure to change the station over as soon as they come on.”

“Awesome. I’ll try to remember to bring you some swag next time I come by. My fiancé plays on the team. Robby Brown.”

She grinned at the same time the smile slid from the bartender’s face. She’d crushed the fantasy land he’d built inside of his mind. It was funny but tragic all at once.

“Can I get a lemon water and a menu? I’m feeling like nachos might be a good idea…”

I laughed to myself as he wandered off to fill her request, his shoulders slumped, and his face pulled into a frown. “Aww. I think you broke his heart,” I told her.

She glanced over her shoulder. “He’ll be fine. Plenty of girls for him to chase around here, I’m sure. This place is probably cougar central!”

I laughed but it faded quickly as I thought back to what Paris had said minutes before. Did Cody want to keep things casual with me so he wouldn’t feel bad about seeing other women at the same time? When he first said it, I assumed it was for my benefit. Something to get me to relax and stop taking the whole thing so damn seriously. But now, a seed of doubt had been planted and the whole conversation had a darker tone.

I was about to ask Paris for her advice, when a blast from the past walked in the front door and my mouth fell to the ground. Our bartender returned and I ripped the menu from his hands and held it open to shield me from the view of my old high school nemesis—Summer Pratt.

Damn her. She looked like she just left high school. Her hair glossy and slick like something from a shampoo commercial. Natural makeup that made her look young and fresh. Her fashion sense appeared to have changed. She used to strut around school in tiny shorts that barely passed the dress code and t-shirts so tight you could see the outline of her nipples. Now, she was wearing a conservative black and white polka dot wrap dress that fit her like a glove but was flirty, not overly sexy.

She flounced across the room with two girlfriends and took a corner booth. The bartender, having been rejected by Paris, flew over to see if he could get any bites.

“Wow, got over that fast, didn’t he?” Paris said, smirking at me. I peeked over the top, my eyes wide and panicked. She wrinkled her nose. “What’s wrong with you? Why are you hiding behind your menu?”

“I know that girl over there. The blonde. We went to high school together.”

“No shit!” Paris said, craning around to get a glimpse. I ducked for cover behind my menu. “You two weren’t friends, I’m guessing from your shady as shit behavior right now. Stop hiding.” She took a swipe for my menu but I kept it tight in a death grip.

“Stop it! No, we most certainly were not friends! She stole my…well…my want to be boyfriend.”

Paris rolled her eyes. “Are you serious? High school was a while ago. What, seven years for you? I think you can let go the pretend boyfriend stealing.”

“No! It wasn’t just that. She was super bitchy to me. She had money and was popular and made it her mission to make anyone not in her crowd to feel like dog shit on her shoes. She knew I liked this guy, Warren, and she stole him from me, and then made a point to flaunt him in front of me. They would make out at his locker which was right across the hall from mine. And she’d whisper something in his ear but be watching me the whole time. She was a monster.”

“Okay, so she’s a twat. But do we have to let her ruin a good thing here? I want nachos.”

I groaned. “Let’s go get a table.”

“Fine!”

We escaped from the bar and I released a sigh when we made it out without being spotted. The hostess at the front took us to the opposite end of the restaurant and put us at a booth. Paris ordered her nachos and I ordered a taco plate and another margarita.

“You know what would be the perfect revenge?” Paris said.

“What?”

“On your high school mean girl? If you were dating a hot baseball pro!”

I laughed. “Back to that, huh?”

“Oh, I’m not letting it go till you’ve got a ring on it and popping out a chubby baby.”

I rolled my eyes and ignored the silent thrill at the idea.

After the food was dropped off, Paris started rambling on about new ideas for the wedding and my margaritas caught up with me. I excused myself to the ladies’ room and found the first two stalls occupied. I took the last of the three.

“I still can’t believe you’re dating him,” one of the other two occupants said with a giggle.

The other woman giggled along. “I know. Me either.”

Shit
! I knew that giggle. It was Summer. I winced and hurried to get done.

“When we broke up, I thought it was over for good. But as soon as we saw each other in Dallas it was like no time had passed at all.”

I gagged to myself.

The first voice chimed in, “he’s so hot too. Definitely a talented pitcher too. The Warriors are lucky to have him too.”

Warriors? Pitcher? What the…

“I don’t care about baseball. I mostly just like the way he fills out his baseball pants. Hot damn!”

Her friend laughed like an unfiltered hyena. “For your bachelorette party we can have you wear a jersey that says Mrs. Wright on the back!”

My stomach plummeted to the floor. Mrs. Wright? Cody Wright. My Cody.

This couldn’t be happening again. Was Summer Pratt the reason he wanted to
keep it casual
? Was the universe really that cruel?

If I wasn’t in the middle of a public restroom, I would have curled up into a ball on the floor and cried my eyes out.

“Let’s not get too carried away, Bev. He hasn’t asked me. But it does feel like fate!”

The toilets in the other stalls flushed and I squeezed my eyes closed, wishing I could disappear and scrub the memory from my mind. Once the sound of the sinks, heels clattering, and the door swinging shut all silences, I dared to creep out from my stall. I washed my hands and bolted back to my table where Paris was happily chomping away at her plate stacked high with nachos.

“Bad news, Paris. I don’t think I can go to the game tonight after all.”

“Why not?” she asked, licking grease from her thumb.

I glanced down. “Bad tacos.”

“You’ve hardly eaten any…”

“I know but I need to leave.”

She arched a brow and picked up another chip. “Is this because of that Summer girl? Cause I just saw her leave.”

I shook my head and willed myself to keep from breaking down into sobs right there at the table. “I just don’t feel good.”

“Okay, honey. Well, you head home. I’ll tell Cody you were sorry to miss him.”

I nodded, holding back a cringe at the sound of his name. “Okay. Thanks, Paris. I owe ya!”

Before she even finished saying goodbye, I turned and made a beeline for the side exit.

Cody

Coach Robinson finally let off the gas when I finished with the press but by the end of the game—I was fuckin’ beat. My shoulder was aching and my head was spinning. Chelsea hadn’t appeared in the stands in my section. Paris was there, front and center like always. Throughout the game, I kept glancing up, hoping to catch sight of her, but she never appeared. That combined with my sore, exhausted muscles, the encounter with Summer earlier in the day, and the pressure of the game itself had me all but limping my ass off the field when the game was called.

We eked out the win but it had been a vicious fight to the end. The entire team was edgy. Which didn’t bode well since we would be on a plane for an eight day stretch on the road to play a handful of away games. Close quarters, living out of suitcases, and eating a bunch of takeout wasn’t going to improve things.

All I wanted to do was hit the showers, change into street clothes, and go find out what happened to Chelsea. I ducked into the locker room and hustled to get ready to go. No way was I going to get caught in there alone again. Not like after the last game when Summer slithered in to whisper in my ear. I’d had my fill of her for the day. It was damn unsettling for her to pop out of nowhere all the time. How was I supposed to do my fuckin’ job when I was always on red alert for my ex who was walking a tight rope between crazy and psycho?

At first, in Dallas, she’d worked the revenge angle. But that last conversation…that was something else altogether. I couldn’t tell if she was heartbroken or hell bent on making me pay. Did she want me to pay for leaving her, or was she just out to make me miserable for the hell of it?

I didn’t have a clue. All I knew was that I wanted her out of my life. Something that wasn’t likely to happen if she was spreading her legs for the team owner.

“Yo, Wright! Paris is out in the hall. We’re thinking Italian tonight. You in? I need some carbs, man. That game was fuckin’ rough.”

I tugged a long sleeve shirt over my head and turned to face Robby. “Is Chelsea with her?”

I knew the answer would be no but couldn’t help from asking anyway.

Robby shook his head and my heart flipped upside down. “No. Paris said she went home sick all of a sudden.”

“Oh? Damn. That sucks. You know what, I think I’ll take her some soup or something.”

Robby gave me a half-cocked grin. “You got it bad, Wright.”

“Shut up, man.”

I followed him out and greeted Paris. “Chels is sick? What kind?”

Paris shrugged and then attached herself to Robby. “She said it was bad tacos but she barely took two bites. And I’m pretty sure food poisoning takes longer than that. She did have two margaritas though…maybe she was woozy from that? I’m not really sure.”

I nodded. “All right. Well, I’m going to go check on her. You two have fun. Try not to get busted for public indecency.” I winked at them and jogged down the hall for the nearest exit.

Forty minutes later, I pulled up outside of Chelsea’s townhouse. I grabbed the bag of supplies I’d collected at the drug store on the corner and went up to her front door. The light in her bedroom was on as well as the front window which led to the living room. At least she was awake. I knocked and rang the bell lightly.

Footsteps sounded but then the lights in the front window shut off.

“What the—” I knocked again. “Chels? It’s Cody. Open up, baby.”

“Go away! And I’m not your baby.”

I bristled at her barked reply. “Hey? What’s going on?” I tried the door knob but it was locked tight. “Chelsea, what the hell? I came to see how you’re feeling. If you’re worried about getting me sick, I can assure you, I have the immune system of a—”

The door jerked open and the scowl staring back at me stopped me mid-sentence. “Go. Away.”

I put a hand up to stop her from slamming the door shut again and took a step forward. “Why? What the hell did I do?”

“Hmm.” She tapped a fingertip on her lips. “Where should I start? First, you lied to me. Second, you’re just here to get some ass and I’m not giving any away so there’s really no point in your presence. And third, I just plain don’t like you.”

She could not have shocked me more than if she’d tossed a cooler of ice water down my drawers. Her tone of voice had a shriveling effect on my balls too. Just like ice water.

“Chelsea, what the hell are you talking about? Lied to you? About what?” I traced back, trying to latch onto something that made sense.

She crossed her arms. “Well maybe you didn’t lie directly. But a lie of omission is the same damn thing in my book.”

“Okay…”

“Does the name Summer Pratt ring any bells?”

I dropped my eyes to the space between us. “Fuck.”

“Yeah. Exactly.”

I darted my eyes back to hers. “What did she say to you?”

“What do you
think
she said? She was talking to her friend, and from the sound of it, the two of you are pretty hot and heavy.”