Night Games (10 page)

“So what? I grew up in a small town too. My parents weren’t rich. We didn’t live in the lap of luxury. As far as I’m concerned, you and I are equals.” Truth be told, this whole money thing never sat well with me anyway. When I’m around people who are abundantly wealthy, I feel self-conscious, like I don’t belong. When I’m around people who aren’t, I feel guilty for having too much. Most of the time, I feel like I don’t really fit in anywhere. Sometimes I wonder if having all of this money and fame isn’t more of a curse, especially if it distances me from people like Grey.

“Yeah, but that was years ago. That’s not who you are now, Chase. I make minimum wage, okay? And you made $15 million last year alone.”

“Then tell me how you were able to make me feel better when all of the best doctors in the country couldn’t give me any relief?”

“It worked?”

“Hell yeah it worked. Take a look.”

I stretch out on the rock as she sits next to me to examine my knee, the ends of her hair brushing against my leg. Her fingers deftly probe the area, and I can’t help but think that after all the shit I did with that therapist down in Florida, none of it got me as aroused as I am right now. The slightest touch from Grey’s fingers is igniting every nerve ending in my body. I lean back on my hands and stare up at the sky, willing myself to behave.

“That’s unbelievable, Chase. It’s not even as red as it was.”

“What the hell is in that stuff?”

“To be honest, I don’t even know for sure.”

“Well, it’s settled. You and your magic ointment are coming with me.”

“Or I could just hook you up with a couple of jars.”

“What is this really about?” I gently tug at her sleeve, begging her to look at me. “Grey, I can’t change who I am. It’s too late for that. I’m always gonna be Chase Whitfield.”

“I know, and I wouldn’t want you any other way. You were destined to do what you do. I don’t know if you realize how many lives you touch.” Her eyes are shining at me like she’s proud of who I am. But she doesn’t understand that all of my accomplishments mean nothing if I can’t share them with someone like her.

“So what’s stopping you from going with me?”

“Maybe because you already have a girlfriend.”

I sigh in frustration, tossing my legs over the side of the rock, staring blankly down at the valley below. Grey thinks she’s just an ordinary person who can’t compete with a supermodel for my attention. I get it. She doesn’t have to play the kind of games I’m forced to play. No one cares whom she’s dating or if she’s dating anyone at all. She’s free to live her life the way she chooses. She controls her destiny. She doesn’t know what it’s like to have every move scrutinized.

I wouldn’t make these kinds of choices if I didn’t have to live in a fishbowl. I think deep down Grey knows that my relationship with Irina isn’t real. It never was. I just have to get Grey to trust her instincts when it comes to how she feels about me, get her to stop questioning everything. Even though I don’t blame her for having doubts. I’m obviously a lousy actor if she can see right through me.

“Grey, look at me.”

“No.”

“Grey—”

She raises those chocolate brown eyes stubbornly to mine. She thinks I’m playing her for a fool, but she couldn’t be more wrong. She’s the one who holds all the cards, not me. If she sends me packing, I’ll be trapped in my own circle of hell without her. She has the upper hand because I can’t force her to want to be with me. No matter how much money I have, I can’t buy her trust. I have to earn it.

“Irina Portanova signed a contract to be my girlfriend that I can terminate at any time. Just like all of the other celebrity women I’ve been linked to in the past.”

“Yeah, but did you sleep with her?”

I clench my jaw. Grey would have to be perceptive enough to bring that up. It doesn’t matter though. Not now. Not after kissing her. But I’m not going to lie to her either. That would be wrong.

“Yeah, but it’s a non-issue.”

I feel her withdraw from me, like she’s closing ranks to protect her heart.

“So if I follow you to New York and you get tired of me and toss me aside, you realize I’ll be left with nothing. No job, no home—just the stigma of being the jilted ex-lover of a Major League baseball player. I’ll probably have ‘Grey Kelleher fucked Chase Whitfield’ written on my tombstone, marking it as the one major accomplishment of my life.”

“Stop it, Grey.” What she’s saying is digging deep, and I don’t want to hear it.

“You haven’t been able to commit to one woman the entire time you’ve played with the Kings, Chase. Why should I believe you’ll be faithful to me?”

“Yeah, I enjoyed being single and living it up when I first came to New York, but after a while, it got old. Ever since I got injured, I’ve had a lot of time to think—too much time to think. I’ve been keeping myself apart from everyone else, closing myself off, and that’s not how I want to live the rest of my life. I want something more. I want someone like you.”

Grey doesn’t say anything at first as her hair falls in front of her face. I reach out and tuck it behind her ear, my hand lingering against her cheek. I want her to talk to me, but I don’t want to pressure her either. Our fate is hanging in the balance. She decides where we go from here. It’s her call. I’m not in control of her, even though she has the power to transform my entire life. I don’t want to come home to an empty apartment anymore, and when I’m on the road, I want to fall asleep to her voice on the phone. I know she’s not using me for who I am. She actually likes me for me. I just wish she’d believe in herself more because I’m all hers. She’s the one who’s too good for me.

“It just scares me that all this will blow up in my face,” she finally responds.

We could be so good together if she’d just stop fighting the inevitable. Maybe I should up the stakes, go for broke. Do something completely spontaneous instead of calculating the pros and cons of every move I make. I’m sick of analyzing how my choices affect my overall image. I want to live a little. Put myself at risk of making a mistake that could just so happen to turn out to be the best decision of my life.

“What if I bolstered your confidence? Gave you some kind of guarantee?” I question her boldly.

“Like what—one of your sex contracts? No, thank you.”

“No, not like that.” I grab a fistful of her shirt, hoisting her onto my lap, delighting in the sensation of her bare legs rubbing against mine. What the hell? I should bite the bullet and just do it. Let her know how serious I am about her. It’s the only way she’s going to understand that this is it for me. I don’t want anyone else but her.

“Like what then?”

“Marry me.”

“What?”

“You heard me. Marry me.”

“Chase, are you out of your mind?”

“I’ve never been more certain of anything.”

“Says the man who said he’d never get married until he retires, and maybe not even then.”

“I changed my mind.”

“Stop playing with me.”

“I’m not. I mean it, Grey. Marry me.”

“This is crazy. You’re moving way too fast. Twenty-four hours ago, you didn’t even know who I was. You had me kicked out of Beaver Field for crying out loud.”

“When I first saw you, I was afraid of you, just like you’re afraid of me now.”

“I’m not afraid of you, but you’re being reckless,” she sighs, letting her body collapse against mine.

I take advantage of the opportunity and kiss her behind her ear. She leans back into me, letting me explore her neck with my lips.

Am I overcompensating by trying to convince her like this? Maybe. But this is what the average American guy does, right? Meet someone. Get married. Have kids. This is how it’s done. Sure, I’m jumping the gun, but we don’t have to get married right away or anything. We can have a long engagement. I just want to take her off the market. Nab her before someone else does. When I see something I want, I have to have it. That’s the way I operate. Why wait when I can lock her up now?

And yeah, I have been going a little stir-crazy. It’s been boring as hell sitting around, not being able to play. I could definitely use an extra dose of excitement in my life. But Grey is more than just some distraction to keep me occupied while I’m laid up. She’s one of a kind. This untouched girl in the wilderness with the sparkling eyes who has captured my attention like no one else.

Sitting up abruptly, Grey levels me with her stare. “Sure, we have this undeniable chemistry going on, but what if it’s too strong? What if ends up destroying us if we’re not careful?”

“Then we’ll go into it with our eyes open. There’s no way you’re moving on with your life without me in it. I won’t let that happen. Don’t make me try.”

“Do you think I want you to up and leave and go back to pretending to be in love with some model? If you do, it would crush me. But, Chase, have you ever even been in a committed relationship before?”

“Not since high school,” I admit, and I feel her shy away from me.

“And you want to get married?” she groans, trying to climb out of my lap, but I hold on to her waist, not letting her go.

“I don’t expect any of this to be a walk in the park. It’s not what I’m used to, but it’s a change for the better. Don’t you think? It’ll be the adventure of a lifetime.”

“Or a disaster in the making.”

“C’mon, say yes.”

“Chase Whitfield is proposing to me? The world must be coming to an end.”

“You don’t give yourself enough credit, you know. You’re a pretty spectacular catch.”

“Says the man with four Gold Gloves.”

“Very funny.”

“I can’t believe you’re sitting outside in your underwear asking me to marry you.”

“Go on. Keep stalling. It’s not like I have all day.”

“Well, I’m not going through with this unless your lawyer draws up some kind of prenup. I want to make it clear that I’m not in it for the money. It sort of terrifies me how rich you are. If it doesn’t work out between us, I don’t expect you to give me a dime. I’m used to scraping by.”

“Grey, you have no idea how stable your world is about to become. But in order to reassure you, I’m going to keep paying the rent on your trailer. It’ll always be here for you whenever you need it. It’s the least I can do. Especially when the press finds out about us, you might want to hide out for a while.”

“You really do live a crazy life, don’t you?” She rests her head on my shoulder, glancing up at me.

“You’ve only just gotten a taste of it. Wait until we get to New York.” I don’t mean to scare her, but she needs to know what she’s getting herself into.

“I’m going to miss the peace and quiet, aren’t I?”

“But I intend to make it up to you.” I take her lips with mine and she doesn’t resist. This time, we’re careful with each other, savoring every moment. This kiss holds a promise of things to come. How she’ll be there for me and I’ll be there for her.

“This is like really freakin’ scary, Chase. Things like this just don’t happen.”

“I won’t let you down, Grey. I swear.”

“This is insane, but…” She trails off as I stand, lifting her in my arms.

“It feels so right?”

“Something like that,” she says, circling her arms around my neck. “Oh wait, my phone!”

I bend down so she can grab it. “Who were you talking to anyway?”

“My sister.”

I sigh heartily.

“Stop it. She’s going to be a part of your family now.”

“Don’t remind me,” I groan, a smile forming on my face.

“But, Chase, there’s something I have to tell you.”

“What?”

“Erin said that the Kings issued a statement saying they’re disappointed in your behavior in Stockton. They think you were at The Blue Room. Apparently, camera crews are camped outside Beaver Field, waiting for you to arrive.”

“Great alibi, Noah.”

“The whole world thinks you were at a strip club with him last night. And if we turn up together, everyone’s going to think—”

“That you’re a stripper.”

“And it sucks because…I kind of was.”

“Wait a minute… What?”

“I…I used to be a stripper.”

Chapter Thirteen

Grey

Chase puts me down, and my feet hit solid ground, bringing me back to reality. He doesn’t even say anything. He just storms away.

Under any other circumstances, I would seriously be enjoying the sizzling-hot view of his butt as he climbs the face of the cliff, but his sudden turnabout has me rattled. I mean, he didn’t even give me a chance to explain. And he thinks we’ll survive one day as a married couple?
Way to work out our differences, Chase.

What’s going to happen after we say, ‘I do?’ It’ll probably the shortest marriage in history if his immediate reaction is to walk away from his problems. He’s slept with half of New York and I’m just supposed to be okay with that? Sorry if my past isn’t exactly pristine either. I never said it was. What? Is he only into me because he thinks I’m this sheltered little princess or something? Boy, is he in for a rude awakening.

“Chase, wait!” I hurry after him, but he doesn’t stop. He doesn’t even look back.

That does it. He’s going to listen to me, damn it, whether he wants to or not. I charge across the clearing and make a flying leap onto his back. Somehow I succeed in knocking him down as we fall into the grass together in a heap.

“Grey, what the fuck?” He’s giving me the same vicious look he gave me behind the net at Beaver Field and it makes me want to crawl into a hole and die. It’s like his proposal never happened. He’s trying to distance himself from me again, wishing he could take it all back.

“You wouldn’t listen! I had to do something.” I’m straddling him as he tries to unseat me, but I just squeeze my knees even harder against his ribs.

“And what? You suddenly forgot about my jacked-up knee?” His words have their intended effect. I don’t fight him as he easily slides my body off of his. But he doesn’t get to his feet right away. Instead he flexes his leg, testing it out. I hope I didn’t jam it up on him again.

“I didn’t think I’d knock you over. I just wanted to slow you down.” I try not to notice the red nail marks running down his back from where I must’ve scratched him.

“Yeah, well, thanks for proving just how fucked up my knee really is. I mean, how am I gonna handle a runner sliding into second? He’s gonna take me out and I’ll be messed up for good.” Chase overthinks things way too much. He stresses himself out about every little thing—even about things that haven’t even happened yet. He seriously needs to chill out.

“Oh, come on… With your speed? You’re usually tagging the runner before his foot even touches the bag.” It’s true. His defensive skills are the best in the league. He’s always positioned exactly where he needs to be on the field. He rarely gets caught up in a runner’s spikes.

“Humph.” He’s being a big baby and he knows it.

“But seriously, are you all right?”

“I’ll live.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Do you need me to spell it out for you?”

“Yeah, I think I do.”

“There’s no way in hell I’m marrying you now. What the fuck was I thinking?”

I rear back to slap him across the face, but this time he catches my wrist in his hand, anticipating my reaction.

“You think I don’t remember how you lash out when you get angry? I’m not a punching bag, you know.” His eyes deepen to almost an emerald green as I struggle against his grip.

“Let go of me, you moron!” Finally I wrest myself free and scoot away from him, but he just grabs my ankle instead.

“Oh yeah, I’m the moron. Who’s the one who took off her clothes for a bunch of horny pricks?” He’s seething, but I detect a tremor of jealousy in his voice.

“I never had the kind of opportunities you did, all right? Things weren’t handed to me on a silver platter. I’ve never had to depend on a guy for anything and no way in hell am I starting now.” I defiantly try to kick him away from me, but he refuses to let go of my leg. He’s not done with me yet.

“But why do that, Grey? You didn’t have to sink to that level. There are a lot more honest ways to make a living.”

“Is that what you tell the strippers whose G-strings you stuff with dollar bills? Kind of a double standard, don’t you think?”

“I don’t go to strip clubs that often.”

“But you go.”

“Every once in a while for a bachelor party or some stupid shit like that.”

“Have you ever been with a stripper?”

“No.”

“Liar.”

“I haven’t. Not my type.” His flippant response has its intended effect, gutting me to the core.

“I guess I’m not your type then.” I bite down hard on the inside of my cheek.

“I didn’t say that.” He shoots me a wounded look.

“You didn’t have to.” I turn away, dejected.

“I just want to know why a girl like you ended up doing something like that. It doesn’t make any sense.” He places his hands on my shoulders, urging me to face him.

“It was a means to an end.” I shrug, resisting him.

“Are you still doing it now?” he asks in a reprimanding tone.

“No!” I whirl around, glaring at him.

“Thank God,” he mutters under his breath.

“Shut up. You don’t know anything about me.” Tears are starting to form, but I angrily blink them back.

“Apparently not, even though it seems like I’m an open book to you.” His thumbs caress my neck, and despite myself, I feel those butterflies in my stomach again.

“I can’t help it if you’re famous,” I snap back, determined not to give in to the sensations coursing through my body.

“Yeah, neither can I.” He finally releases me, and I try not to look at the muscles in his chest as they heave up and down. My hair must have gotten him wet because his naked torso is glistening in the sun. “I need you to tell me why you did what you did.”

“Wow, you’re giving me the benefit of the doubt?”

“For now. Start talking.”

I’m so freakin’ mad at the way he’s treating me. Like he’s the one running the show, telling me when I can and cannot speak. Who the hell does he think he is?

“I’m waiting, Grey.”

“Good.”

“You don’t want to test me like this.”

“What? Am I about to experience Chase Whitfield’s dark side? Not so perfect after all, huh?”

He’s on top of me in a heartbeat. I can’t even breathe as he presses me to the ground, the morning dew seeping through the back of my shirt. If he gets grass stains on it, I’ll kill him. I love this shirt. But all such thoughts immediately vanish from my mind when he places his hands on the both sides of my head, his breath warm against my lips.

“You’re going to tell me what happened, and you’re going to tell me now.” He’s being all demanding and shit. I should hate it, but it’s such a turn-on. I’ve never been around a guy who’s so used to getting what he wants. He’s powerful and strong. He could be anywhere with anybody, but he’s here with me.

“My mom got sick a while back and I freaked out. I couldn’t handle it. So I rebelled. Stripping was a way to take my mind off things. It was the escape I needed to survive. My mind was constantly going in circles. I needed some way to turn it off, if only for a couple hours.” Great, now Chase Whitfield of all people is the only one who knows my dirty little secret.

“Why did you stop?” His breath is uneven. I wonder if he’s picturing me onstage. He doesn’t like the idea that I took off my clothes for other men, yet he probably can’t help imagining me doing it for him. Of course he can’t. It’s every guy’s fantasy.

“Because I wasn’t home to watch you play.”

My remark only fuels the fire burning within him. “Don’t patronize me.”

He thinks I’m playing with his emotions on purpose or something. But it’s the truth. I needed my daily Chase Whitfield fix. It was because of him that I gave it up. Stripping didn’t give me the same kind of high I got from seeing him. He’s my one true means of escape. He always has been—until he got hurt.

“I’m not. Stripping wasn’t for me. So I moved on.”

“How long were you there?”

“I don’t know. About two months?”

“Jesus Christ.” His arms start to shake, as he steadies himself above me. “How often did you do it?”

“Mostly weekends. Friday and Saturday nights when it got busy.”

“And I’m supposed to believe that Noah just happened to pick the name of that club out of thin air?”

“I don’t know. He seemed kind of nervous last night when he approached me. If he frequents the place, he might have remembered seeing me there.”

“Shit, Grey.” He pounds his fist into the grass before rolling off me. “This is bad. Very bad.”

“Well, you have all these PR gurus at your disposal, right? I’m sure they can spin it somehow. Tell everyone I have a sick mother and I needed the money.” I feel so small as he gets to his feet and glares down at me. He’s definitely using his height to his advantage. If he’s trying to intimidate me, he’s succeeding.

“Does The Blue Room hire cocktail waitresses?”

“It’s not that fancy.”

“Did they pay you under the table?”

“It’s actually run aboveboard. I had to fill out a tax form and everything. I guess they got into some trouble a while back in a raid and they have to keep things legit if they want to keep their license.”

“So there’s a paper trail connected to you?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“Jesus, Grey.” He turns his back to me and runs a hand through his hair in frustration. “I need a minute.”

“But—”

He doesn’t stop. He just keeps walking until he’s back inside my trailer. All right, if he needs some space, I’ll give it to him. I didn’t think he’d take it so hard. He’s a worldly guy, and he’s seen a lot. I can’t believe my disclosure would shock him so much. He doesn’t even know all the details. And if he doesn’t have the balls to ask, then I’m not going to tell him. Let him think the worst of me.

I’m not some prostitute.

I’m still a virgin.

And I’m more embarrassed about that than anything else.

Chase Whitfield losing his mind over a girl who’s never even had sex before? Yeah right. I know more about box scores and division standings than I know about my own body. There’s no way someone with my total lack of experience is going to be able to hold on to a guy like Chase. I have no idea what it takes to satisfy a man in the bedroom. He’s used to women who know exactly how to make his body respond to them, and I’m clueless except for the online porn I Googled out of curiosity. What can I say? I hit the books way too much when I could have been getting anatomy lessons in the back seat of some guy’s car.

Truth be told, I wasn’t the greatest stripper in the history of The Blue Room. I only did it to channel my anger when it felt like my world was spinning out of control. If my mom was going to die, I wanted to live, feel alive, be admired. If I was going to lose her, I wanted something to replace the hurt inside my heart, even if it was the stomach-wrenching terror of stage fright or the exhilaration of losing myself amid the pounding bass and flashing lights.

I usually only performed in group numbers, at the end of the night when the patrons were too drunk to notice my awkwardness. By that time, they’d hoot and holler for just about anything in a skirt, especially younger guys like Noah. I always worried about coming face to face with someone I knew in the audience, and now that period of temporary insanity is coming back to bite me in the ass.

And it’s not like I ever got completely nude. I only went topless at the very end of the song before the lights went out, usually to the final notes of “Pour Some Sugar On Me.” So there was only a split second where my boobs were visible before I was hustled offstage and into the dressing room. Is being a stripper something I’m proud of? Not really. Am I glad I did it? Yeah, I think am. And I don’t appreciate Chase trying to make me feel ashamed of what I did either. Where does he of all people get off judging me?

I get up and brush myself off. It’s time to set the record straight. If my past is an issue for him, he’s just going to have to get over it. There’s nothing I can do about it now. I wasn’t trying to hide it from him, but I wasn’t going to lie about it if it came up either. Now that the cat’s out of the bag, we need to act like two adults and just deal with it.

As I approach the trailer, I hear him talking on the phone.

“Noah, I found your number on the card you gave Grey, but I have no clue where I am. Can you track the GPS on my cell?”

What? Is he leaving? I thought I was supposed to drive him to meet up with Noah.

“Yeah, change of plans. I can’t be seen anywhere near her right now. It’s complicated. I’ll fill you in later.”

What a freaking coward. He’s ending it the minute things get tough. He doesn’t have the stomach to pull the trigger and commit to someone. He might seem confident and self-assured in public, but in private he’s completely indecisive, wavering back and forth. Making these grand gestures and then immediately taking them back. Who does shit like that? I thought he was stable and put together. Turns out he’s the reverse—paranoid and extremely unsure of himself.

“All right. I’m gonna hop in the shower, but I should be ready by the time you get here. I didn’t think you lived this close.”

Great. Noah lives nearby? Figures. It’s not going to give us enough time to fix this.

“Noah, for now, keep this on the down low. You hear me?”

Now he’s swearing Noah to silence. What next? Is he going to tie me to a chair and gag me before he leaves? God forbid his precious reputation gets tarnished because of me.

“Later, man.” He hangs up with a sigh before taking his pile of neatly folded clothes and heading for the bathroom. He’s not even going to come out here and talk to me? He’s just going to blow me off? Well, two can play at that game. Maybe I won’t be around when he’s comes out. Maybe it’s already too late. Marry him, my ass. If he wanted to make me feel bad about myself, well, he succeeded.

I slip into the trailer, quickly tossing on a pair of shorts and stepping into my mud-splattered running shoes. Listening to the shower turn on, I look longingly at the image of Chase’s face on the back of the bathroom door. I knew this was too good to be true. Most things are. I’ll probably look back at this time I spent with him as some blip on the radar, a freak occurrence in the everyday stream of life, something spectacular that momentarily blotted out the monotony of the daily grind.