Sweet Spot (11 page)

“Is that…is that your dad?”

“He can wait.”

“Does he know where you are?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

I scrub my face with my hands. “I’m so dead.”

She pulls my hands down and kisses me hard. I fold into her and relax against her touch. “I told you, I will handle him. He will understand how important this is to me and we will break him in slow. You mean everything to me, Kemp, and I can’t let this go.”

“I don’t want to let this go, either, Ally. I love you. I love you with everything I have in me. Pieces of me that were dead when my mom died have come back to life. You’ve changed my whole world. But this is so dangerous. It could ruin you. It could ruin me.”

“But isn’t it worth the risk? You can’t tell me last night isn’t worth it.”

She’s got me there. “I would love to repeat last night a million times over. And this morning. And every other time your sweet body has been on top or under mine. I just don’t want you to get hurt from this. I don’t want this all to end because your dad will want to murder me. I want to fuck you, not say goodbye as a ghost.”

My phone blows up again and again. Her phone rings again and again.

Already, I can feel something awful brewing. I don’t know what, but I can tell it isn’t good. Maybe Coach knows. Maybe he’s sending a brigade after us, with torches and pitchforks, and I’m going to be strung up on a line and castrated for violating his daughter.

The crazy thing is, I would do it again in a heartbeat. My time with her has been one of the most incredible times of my life. There is nothing that could compare to being so intimately tied to Ally, and having her entire body at my command. I want to believe her. I want to believe that she can convince her dad everything here is okay, and that we can be together without fear of ruining everything. I want to believe that this could work despite our age differences and the glaring complications of life in general.

Our phones go off again and it’s like an icy bath to the pit of my stomach. Both of us. Right now. We’ve been found out, it’s plain as the day breaking through my window.

There’s no more hiding. No more pretending. I squeeze Ally’s hand and get up to find my phone. There are like eight missed texts from Jamie. I’m grateful it’s not Coach…until I read them.

Are you fucking kidding me right now?

Answer your goddamn phone

Hey asshole

Hey asshole pick up

You are deader than dead, amigo. Pick up.

Turn on your TV asshole

That last one strikes terror straight into my heart. It all comes crashing back into me, memories from last night. Ally at my door. My utter disregard for the world we live in. The blinds were open. Oh, mother fucking shit. My hands tremble as I pick up the remote and turn on ESPN.

Before the video kicks in, I hear Aaron Ellis’ voice.

“Who is this mystery woman at Kemper Fife’s home? The second baseman, just weeks after promising to clean up his act, has been spotted with a pretty young thing…”

There, on the screen, is a shot of Ally. In my living room. Peeling off her shirt.

W
e stare
at each other for a long, deadly silent moment. The television screen repeats the footage over and over, giving everyone and their mother a free show on ESPN. Fuck ESPN. Fuck the photographers who did this. Fuck everyone.

Ally’s phone falls from her hand and she’s absolutely rigid. I pick it up for her, but her hands aren’t working and there are tears in her eyes. I want to burn ESPN to the ground. I want to hunt down those paps and the goddamn producer who thought this was a good idea, baring the body of this innocent girl to the world. She isn’t like the girls at the bars.

She isn’t like anyone else I’ve ever been with. She doesn’t deserve this and all I want is blood from everyone who’s destroying her innocence.

“Well, shit,” is all she says.

“I am so sorry. God, I’m so sorry.” I turn off the television, not wanting to relive my horror over and over again. Though, admittedly, the man in me is captivated at the angle they got her at. She’s fucking gorgeous. And then I get angry all over again that someone else gets to see her this way. Not just one or two someone else’s, but literally thousands of people. My poor Ally.

“I am just so fucking sorry, Ally. I didn’t know…”

She shakes her head. “It’s okay. I should have known they were going to be all over your place. I should have known better than to let myself get carried away like that. It’s my fault, I’m the one who’s sorry.”

“No, this is all
my
fault. If I’d just let you in sooner or kept my hands to myself, this wouldn’t have happened and you wouldn’t be facing this shitty, awful situation.”

“Yeah. Yeah.” She turns her phone over in her hands. “So, this should come as no surprise, but I think my dad knows now.”

I collapse on the couch and run my hands through my hair, trying to hatch some sort of game plan and coming up empty. “I figured as much. What did he say?”

“You don’t want to know. Did he get ahold of you?”

“Not yet, just Jamie.” I toss my phone on the coffee table and watch it spin in circles. I’m practically begging Coach to call me and chew my ass because the anticipation is going to give me a goddamn heart attack. But it’s just a black and silent as ever, now that Jamie’s done texting the fuck out of me.

He must know that I already know I’m a dead man.

Because that’s all I can see right now: death. To everything. Coach made it abundantly clear that night in Chicago that whoever touched his daughter could kiss his career with the Royals goodbye. I guess I just didn’t expect to get caught this soon. Not after we finally talked things out.

Not after we were on the path to agreeing this was worth being together.

Not after I spent hours upon hours making love to her after she showed up at my door while I was trying to be respectable and do the right thing. It strikes me that there’s just no fucking winning. I tried, didn’t I? I told her we couldn’t be together anymore, that it wasn’t worth the risk to either of us, and she showed up at my door and I shot my inhibitions to the stars because she’s worth the risk.

But now that we’re here…I still say she’s worth the risk, but I’m terrified to learn what’s going to happen to me. To her. To my career, the thing my mom broke herself to help me build. The thing I broke myself to build. The thing I almost lost because I was a dumbass who drank too much and smoked too much and hung out with the kinds of girls who make you think taking off all your clothes and using them as kindling is a good idea.

I changed my ways, turned around, and it still didn’t fucking matter.

I’m so scared right now—the rug’s been pulled from underneath me, but I’ll keep falling until I know what’s going to happen. And if Ally leaves me—if Coach tears us apart—I may never stop falling.

But if she tells me she’s changed her mind, and this isn’t worth it, I’ll shatter at the bottom.

“We need to go talk to him before this gets worse.” I swallow down the lump in the back of my throat and grab my phone. “Right now.”

“I should just go.”

“No, we both need to do this.” I take a deep breath, fully realizing I’m denying the out she’s giving me. But I have to man up and talk to Coach myself. It’s the right thing to do. “Who knows, maybe we can let him see how this is a good thing.”

She’s been pale from the moment we turned on the television, but she looks practically ghostly right now. Not exactly a good sign. “Um, sure.”

“You don’t think he will?”

Ally turns away from me, conveniently picking up her things, but I can’t help but feel like I’m about to walk into a firing squad situation and she doesn’t want to tell me. “I should really go.”

“I’m not letting you go alone, Ally.”

She turns to look at me, a curious look on her face. “You can’t tell me what I can or can’t do, Kemp.”

Ouch. She’s young, but she’s not fucking stupid. “I didn’t mean it that way, I’m sorry. I just meant that this involves both of us and we both need to go. I could have easily told you no last night, Ally. Don’t look at me like that, I could have said no. Instead, I made a choice. To be with you. I’m not backing down from that choice and I’m not running away from the responsibility involved.”

“You’ve just been out here, arguing with me about how this was too dangerous. You tried to warn me and I messed up. I need to handle it.”

My poor Ally. She looks terrified and lost and I know it’s all my fault. What better could she know? She’s still loaded with innocence, thinking if she stays true to her heart, the world will let us be. She’s not as old and jaded as me, doesn’t understand the world doesn’t give a fuck who you love. It’ll just chew you up and spit you out.

Like it did with my mom. Like it’s done with me.

I take her hands and kiss them. “We are in this together, Ally. I’m with you, you’re with me. We will face him together and explain that this is something beautiful. It’s not your fault the assholes with the cameras decided to blast your image all over the country. You didn’t do that. This is not our fault. He’s just trying to go into damage control for the team’s image, I promise. We will be okay.”

She doesn’t look like she believes me. Her face is doing that scrunchy sideways lip thing that leaves no doubt as to the thoughts in her head. Remind me never to stake her in poker. I kiss Ally tenderly and press our noses together.

“It’ll be okay. I promise.”

“Okay.” She doesn’t sound especially certain, but I don’t think I can blame her.

She gathers her things and I watch her, unable to ditch the sinking feeling this is the last time I’ll ever see her. No matter what I told Ally, I know Coach. He’s talked about how untouchable his daughter is for as long as I’ve known him. I guess he doesn’t trust a ball club full of young dudes, and now I can’t blame him. His worst fears came true.

Truth be told, I don’t see what the big deal is. Baseball life is not easy on families, sure. There’s a ton of away games, and all of the preseason. The hours are long, we’re gone most of the night, blah blah. There are worse lives, to be sure. Octivio’s little girl Facetimes with him every night before she goes to bed. Carlos’ fiancée comes to every home game and half the away games. Most wives just stop working. People make it happen. To be together.

The difference here, though, is that this life is all Ally knows anyway. She grew up watching her dad play ball with the Astros and then coach the Royals. Her dad kept her in boarding school while she dreamed of being part of it.

This is the life she wants. This girl loves baseball. She lives and breathes it.

How could her hooking up with a baseball player be such a terrible thing? How can I be a terrible thing? How can
we
be a terrible thing? I just can’t understand.

It’s times like this I miss my mom the most. She would make sense of all this shit and tell me what to do. Instead, I have to figure this out on my own. I have a long history of fucking it up on my own.

Ally disappears into my room to gather the rest of her things, and I catch myself staring at a picture on the mantle of me and my mom at one of my first baseball games. I’m in a uniform that’s entirely too big for me and she looks so happy, so beautiful, so alive.

I pick it up and touch her face. “What am I supposed to do, mom? What do I say to make it better?”

“The truth.” Ally’s voice catches me off guard and I almost drop the frame. I cough to cover the fumble. “We tell the truth and hope it’s enough.”

I have to smile. “That sounds like something she would say.”

“She sounds amazing.”

God, I love this woman more than air. I can’t even begin to stomach what it would be like to lose her. Whatever it takes, we’ll have to convince Coach this is something that is good, and pure, and not worth ruining everyone over. Maybe I can sue ESPN over this shit? I’ll have to call my agent.

We load up in our separate cars after a kiss that feels too much like goodbye. On the way there, my agent calls and I have half a mind to ignore, but he’s the one guy who is paid to stay on my side, no matter what.

“She’s cute.” He says as soon as I answer the phone.

“Fuck you.”

“Well, it would be a lot worse if she were fugly, Kemp.” I can hear him typing away in the background. “Fair warning, Holstead has already given me a ring.”

“I’m on my way to talk to him right now.”

“Alright, well just know he can’t terminate your contract, no matter how pissed he is.”

My stomach drops. “He already tried to?”

“Threatened, but then I reminded him if he can’t kick off George for popping pills, he can’t kick off you for popping his daughter.”

“Bro.” I wince. “Jesus.”

“I’m going to have to spin some PR, and you’re going to have to clean your act right the fuck up. I’m talking as squeaky clean as that bald fucker with the earring. I’d love to spin this as you with a very important girl in your life, so you better make nice with Bossman. Got me?”

“That makes two of us.” I sigh. “Listen, I gotta run. Just pulled up to his house.”

“ASA-fucking-P, Kemp.”

“Got it.”

Ally opens the passenger door and slides into my front seat before I can get out. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

I kiss her hands and then her cheeks. “Absolutely.”

“Okay.” She looks terrified. “Okay. Give me a minute first.”

“Right.”

I watch her walk away, and again I’m struck by how this could be my very last time to see her. What if Coach bans her from the park? Do to me what he will, but what if I can’t ever see her again? Not being able to hold her again is torture enough, but to never glance upon those beautiful eyes or that perfect hair? To never again check out her slammin’ body as she walks away? It’s like death, I’m convinced. Pure death.

And the thought of losing Coach—well, that’s the thing I can’t even imagine facing. He’s my not-dad. I need him.

Ally disappears into the house. I mess around with the radio. It’s all over the ESPN XM channel, too. Well that’s fucking great. My phone lights up with a million texts from the guys, all of them convinced I’m dead. And then Carlos, that fucker:

I knew it was u in Chicago. Knew u couldn’t keep ur hands to urself

Fuck that guy. First: fucking grammar, use it. Second: I’m not some goddamn playboy who is run by his dick. Well, not anymore. This is different. Ally is different. That everyone is acting like she’s some hussy because I’m some asshole is infuriating.

Ally is perfect, innocent, and pure. Ally doesn’t deserve this shit and I’m punching Carlos the fuck out as soon as I see him. Well, probably not, but I want to.

Ten minutes tick by and I’m so anxious I have to leave the car. I’ve stalled as long as possible, but I just need it over with. Surely, it can’t be that bad. I’m one of the star players. Postseason is only weeks away and we’re currently first in our league by a slim margin. If he benches me, he risks losing our chance at the Series.

The team is more important than one fuck up. Coach has long said this, for as long as I’ve known him. That man has been my idol for years. I followed him as a catcher for the Astros, and briefly for the Angels. I knew I wanted to be a Royal as soon as he was made head coach. I never had Missouri on my bucket list before that—and certainly not with their losing record. But a chance to work with
the
Coach Holstead? Signed up in a heartbeat.

And just look what he did for the team. Losing-est in the league to Series champs.

He is the father I adopted, instead of the trash I was given. Coach has been everything to me. Bailed me out of jail, stood by me at my mom’s funeral, helped me fine-tune my game. Our history together has to mean something…right?

The front door is left open, so I slide inside and can hear Ally getting her ass chewed from across the house. Coach must be in his study. It doesn’t exactly sound like we’re going to be able to convince him this is something worth having.

“If you could just let me explain, daddy—”

“What is there to explain? You willfully disobeyed me. I have told you from the time you were six, no ball players. None. You knew the team was off limits, and you didn’t listen. You knew Kemper was on probation, and you didn’t listen. There is nothing left to explain.”

“But we love each other!” Her cries pierce my heart. All I can think is how responsible I am for this very moment, for this heartache. I should have said no. I should have walked away.

“
Love
? Child, how do you even know what that word means? He’s ten years older than you and you’re still a baby. You barely know him! There is no love here.”

“Just because you and mom—”

“I’m taking away every cent. I won’t pay for a thing, no allowance, no nothing. And since the ice cream parlor pays shit, you better find another job—out of the ball park. You won’t work in my stadium again. Stop crying.”

My fists clench at my sides.

“Here’s what I’ll do, AllyCat. Everything will be fixed if you go to school in Arizona. U of A is a good school.”

“I told you, I don’t want to go there, daddy. I want to stay here.”

“No, baby. It’s a good school. Lots of parties. You’ll go there and forget all about him. We’ll put this behind us and you’ll be happy. Baseball life is not the life for you. My job as your father is to give you something better and that’s exactly what I’m doing.”