
Chapter 1

Playing baseball brings up specific sounds and feelings, especially for the batter. One is the terrible 'whiff,' when you know you've completely missed the ball. The lack of connection swings through your body, jarring your elbows and shoulders.

Better is the hollow 'thwack,' that comes from a hit. Not perfect, but still enough to get the ball across the field.

And then there's the sweet spot. You know you've found it the second the bat connects with the ball. The wood and leather meet _perfectly, exactly_ , and that's when you know you'll at the very least get to first, probably to second, and maybe even all the way home.

Much like kissing a girl.

You know when you've hit a potential homer.

Thinking about girls and baseball are pretty much my favorite pastimes. The feel of the bat between my palms is second nature. The feel of a girl—well, there's nothing better.

I inhale, breathing in the warm, early summer night, and get into position to wait for the right one.

The perfect one.

The first two pitches are balls, so I let them slide past. They both land with a thud in the catcher's mitt. The third I get some wood on, tipping the ball back into the stands.

But the next one, I know the instant it leaves the pitcher's hand. I see the release, the way his fingers roll off the ball, and I know. I know before it connects to the bat that I've got this.

_Crack_.

The ball hits that spot. The sweet one, the perfect place, and it zooms across the field, over the pitcher, past second base and arcing over the outfield.

The crowd is on their feet before I've left home plate, but I circle the field victoriously, glancing up into the crowd. There's no better feeling than this.

*

"I saw your game," the girl says. Mary? Maria? Something with an M. She eases up to me at the bar after the game, celebrating the win.

"Oh yeah?" I ask. She's pretty. Long, blonde hair. Mischievous eyes. I knew her in school—sort of. We had Spanish together and we made out once at a party. She likes jocks and tends to be wherever we congregate. Her hand grazes my arm for the third time in the last fifteen minutes. I attempt conversation. "You like baseball?"

She looks at me through long, black eyelashes and confesses, "I like baseball players."

Happily, she links her fingers through mine and leads me past the pool tables and arcade games. We leave the music and people behind, going out the back door. Mary (?) finds a shadowy spot and pushes me against the brick wall, unbuttoning my jeans, lowering my pants, pulling my cock out.

For a brief, slight moment I consider making her stop, being a gentleman and all, but her warm, wet mouth makes all coherent thoughts slip from my mind.

"Jesus." I tangle my hands in her hair, leading her pace.

She performs like a pro. Her cool, slim fingers stroke my balls and she teases the tip of my cock before taking me down her throat. It doesn't take long before I'm nudging her head, giving her the warning. She doesn't stop, instead taking me in deeper, squeezing me tighter, and I've got no choice but to hold her head steady while releasing everything I've got into her mouth.

Man.

I help her off her knees and button my jeans. "Thanks," I say, because what do you say after a spontaneous blow job? 'Thanks' seems appropriate, right?

"You're welcome." She presses her body up against mine and I tug at her shirt while kissing her hard. Her tits strain against the flimsy cotton tank and like that, my youthful dick perks up again.

It's nice to be the hero.
Chapter 2

It's Thursday night, game night, and my team is lined up against the dugout wall. Sunflower seeds scatter across the cement floor and Owen keeps trying to hock a loogie through the fence.

"Knock it off," I tell him.

We stare at one another, blue eye against blue. He does it again anyway, a thick, gooey string of spit and snot hitting the floor.

"Disgusting," I say, shaking my head. A tiny part of me is jealous, remembering how I used to do the same thing in this exact dugout.

"Where's Felix?" I ask, glancing around.

"He was at school today," one of the kids says at the same time someone else blurts, "I think he's sick."

"Line up!" the umpire calls.

I start to erase Owen's name from the roster but stop myself. He's our best first baseman and I'm not willing to give up hope that he'll show. Maybe his mom's running late. It's happened before.

"You heard the umpire," I say to the kids. "Go line up."

The kids run out of the dugout and I stop Sophie. "Wait up."

"What?"

"Your hair's coming loose." She pauses and lets me rebraid her hair, tying it tight at the bottom with a pink band. "Okay, go out there."

She catches up to the other kids, both blonde braids hanging from underneath her cap. She's small but she can hit. I'm starting her on third base today.

"You're pretty good at that."

I look up and see a woman standing at the dugout entry. Felix runs past her, past me and lines up next to the rest of the team on the third base line. I breathe a sigh of relief.

I hate losing.

"It's one of my superpowers," I reply, really looking at her for the first time. She has beautiful green eyes and when I walk past her to grab a bat off the bench, I can't help but check out her legs and her ass. Both fantastic. I raise an eyebrow at the tiny bird tattooed on her lower neck.

She smiles back but the expression is tinged with confusion. Because, really, how many nineteen-year-old guys know how to braid hair?

I didn't know, myself, until Sophie got fed up waiting for Mom to do it. So I asked a girl in my gym class to show me how. Braiding looked easy when she did it with her thin, coordinated fingers. Using my thick boy fingers? Well, let's just say it took a fair amount of practice.

"Thanks for bringing Felix," I say, turning my back and walking to the field. I hand the game roster over to the umpire.

He checks their numbers and uniforms and I take in a deep breath, inhaling the warm spring air. I grab a wooden bat off the rack and hand it to the first player in the line-up and wait for the words I live to hear.

"Play ball!"

*

"I can't believe you caught that fly ball," Owen says from the back seat.

"I can't believe you hit a double," Sophie counters. "And made it to home plate without falling down."

I turn the music on the radio up in an attempt to drown them both out. I love them, but man, there's only so much bickering I can take. I turn into the high school parking lot and pull up to the curb. Joseph waits on a bench, chatting up a girl.

I roll down the window. "Let's go."

Joseph holds up a hand, trying to buy another minute or two. I don't blame him. The girl's cute. When she sees me behind the wheel, her eyes light up and she nudges him along. Everyone in town knows who I am. What I do. Even this little girl.

"Is he going to kiss her?" Sophie asks.

Owen makes a retching sound. "Gross."

I tap my fingers on the steering wheel. "No, he's not going to kiss her because, seriously, LET'S GO!"

Owen and I may have the same blue eyes, and Sophie and I have the same slim fingers, but Joe and I look the most alike. Shaggy, blonde hair. Tan skin from being out in the sun so much. He's starting to fill out from all the yard work he's doing this summer. By fall, the girls will be all over him.

Joe shoots me a look from the passenger seat after slamming the door, but I don't care. I'm tired and the kids need to go home and get to bed. Halfway home, I glance over and notice him chewing on his nails.

Damn. It's always something.

In the driveway, the kids jump out of the back and run past Mom's car, into the house. I stop Joe and say, "She's cute."

"Lindsay Walker is more than cute," he replies. "She's hot."

"I'm not allowed to think fifteen-year-old girls are hot, but yeah, she's a good choice."

He smiles and I grab him by the neck. It's our version of a hug. Everything is so complicated and confusing. Everything is exhausting.

*

I pick Tyler up at ten in my Jeep. With the top down, the music spills into the night air. and the minute we pull away from the driveway I feel like I can finally breathe.

"How was the game?" he asks.

"Good. Won." He grips the window ledge and holds on as I take the curve too sharp. "Sophie's got a pretty good swing."

"And Owen?"

"Eh, he's a wildcard. If he focuses, he'll be alright."

Tyler and I played together in high school but he never had aspirations to go any further. He just finished his first year at college, ROTC, hoping to land a spot in helicopter training.

We arrive at the house and I pull to a stop on the grassy lawn next to some other cars. "Do you know whose house this is?" I ask, hopping out of the Jeep.

"Nope. Cassie invited us, though. Should be a bunch of kids from school."

High School.

The last time and place anything felt normal for me. The last time I'd been a kid—really a kid, without responsibilities and shattered dreams. I follow Tyler up onto the porch. He pumps us both a beer from the keg.

Tyler sees some friends and goes to talk. I find a spot on the couch and settle in. There's no one here I really want to see, and I don't particularly want to hear how awesome their lives are while I've been trapped in limbo.

"Coach Jensen, right?"

I look up and see a girl, standing over the couch. She's pretty—gorgeous even. Dark hair worn loose around her neck and shoulders. Black halter top. She looks a little familiar.

I raise an eyebrow at the formality. No one calls me "Coach" but twelve-year-olds and their parents. "I'm Tucker."

She holds a red party cup in her hands and sits next to me. Her shorts are short and her long, tan legs catch my interest. I look at her face again and try to place her. "Have we met?"

"I brought Felix to the game earlier."

The porch is dark, only lit by paper lanterns, but even so I can see the deep green of her eyes. I feel a little rush knowing that little tattooed bird is hiding under her hair. I wonder what it would feel like under my mouth. "Right. Sure," I say. "I get a little focused on the game—sorry."

"No problem," she says. "You're the only person I know here other than Cassie. I live next door. Well, not that I really know you."

I'm not really one for talking—what's there to say? High school graduate, former baseball star, current surrogate Dad to three siblings, son to a shattered mother? She's pretty though, and I can see the edge of her light blue bra strap and that's enough to keep me engaged.

"Yeah, well, thanks for bringing Felix, he's my star first baseman. Without him, we're screwed."

She laughs softly and I like the way it sounds. I'm not sure what she wants—I'm not getting a sex vibe off her.

"Glad to help." She glances at the door and gives me an apologetic smile. "I should go give Cassie a hand. Maybe I'll see you later?"

"Sure."

I frown at her leaving, because she's unusual. Different—most girls just sidle up to me and stick by my side all night. In fact, her spot is taken immediately, by Karen (Katie?) a girl I've seen naked and a girl I know is fun. She knows my story, my sad, pathetic story, and from the warm smile on her face I know she's willing to do whatever she can to make me feel better. They all want to make me feel better. To save me or some cliché shit. I'm damaged, so they say.

Karen slips her hand down my thigh, grazing my dick with her fingers through my jeans.

"Come on," I whisper in her ear, pulling her off the couch.

She gives me a coy smile. "Oh, yeah?"

I push through the crowded porch, Karen on my trail. I look for somewhere dark. Somewhere private. Somewhere her mouth and lips and body can make me feel better.
Chapter 3

I do see her again. Bird. That's what I've started calling her because I don't know her name and in general I'm not too interested to ask. She drops Felix off for practice. I'm not sure why this is her job or what has changed in his house but I'm not going to complain. She's even prettier in the daylight.

"Who's that?" Adrian asks, his eyes perking up.

"I don't know," I say dismissively. No chance I'm letting him know I'm interested. "She's been bringing Felix to stuff. Maybe a babysitter?"

"She's..." he trails off. Here we go. Adrian falls for a new girl every week. I prefer to live the other way around where one falls for me every week. The less entanglements, the better.

"Come on, guys," I call. Sophie shoots me a look. "And girls."

This is my second season coaching Little League. I always figured I'd be here someday, just with my own kids and not my brother and sister. But no one thought our dad wouldn't be here to do it himself.

I divide the kids into groups, instructing half to go out to the field, the rest to work on batting. "You guys go with Coach Adrian," I point to the grassy area. They look confused.

Shit.

"Adrian!" He's standing in front of the girl, hands on his skinny hips. She's smiling at him, rocking on her heels. Her eyes dart my way.

He looks over his shoulder, tucking his curly hair back under his cap. "Coming."

As the kids spread out over the field, I catch myself looking back, looking for her. She's moved to the bleachers, sitting away from the other moms, reading a book. The warm summer wind catches her dark hair and twice I catch her looking in my direction.

I push my chest out and throw the ball. Doing what I do best.

*

"Tucker, did you take out the trash?"

I'm sitting on the table helping Sophie force a doll arm into a fur coat. I manage to squeeze it in without breaking the elbow in half. "There. All dressed."

"Tucker?!"

"Yeah, Mom, I've got it."

I push open the screen door and grab the trashcan handle, dragging it down the street. It's dusk and the air is summer-warm. I jog back to the house and grab my car keys.

I stop by the kitchen door. "I'm going out for a while."

"Okay, honey."

The screen door creaks when I'm at the car door. My mother stands at the door. From here, I can see the lines of worry on her face and the streaks of gray hair that weren't there two years ago. "Can you bring back some milk?"

"Sure."

After I park, I pull the bat out of the backseat and shove a fistful of quarters in the box of the first batting cage slot I come to. For the next twenty minutes I hit ball after ball, working out the frustration of the day—of my life. Trying to figure out how I got here and how to get away. Even outside, the world seems closing in. Tighter than the cage I'm currently in.

The ball machine runs out and I exit the cage to re-load. It's then that I realize I'm not alone. There's a girl sitting on the picnic table behind the batting cage. Big green eyes.

Bird.

"How long have you been here?" I ask.

"Just a minute or so." I notice then that her face is a little red and the front of her shirt is wet. Her nipples press against the fabric. "I was jogging when I saw you." She points to the water fountain. "I needed a drink."

I nod because I'm not sure what to say to this girl. I can't tell how old she is, but I think it's older than me. Maybe twenty-two? Twenty-five? Her dark hair is pulled back in a ponytail except for several pieces stuck to her neck with sweat. Her pink, flushed cheeks give her a glow and I've always had a thing for female athletes, but before I can say anything she stands and stretches her arms behind her back, extending her chest. My fingers twitch.

"Well, see you around," she says and runs off.

I stare at her ass going up the hill and then plug four quarters into the machine and slip back through the gate. I pull the batter's helmet over my head and shake off the image of her tits and legs and sticky body.

Crack.

*

"I'm going to ask her out," Adrian tells me at the next practice. He's been staring at her the whole time. I know this because I've been watching him watch her. She sits in the same spot, the top corner of the bleachers.

"You should," I tell him. I don't care if he does even though my interest in her has piqued over the last couple of weeks. Enough that I finally found out who she is and why she's here with Felix. She's his aunt.

Adrian glances away from her for a second. "You think she'll go?"

"Why not?" I shrug. I don't tell him that she seems to have free time, and that I've seen her twice more jogging down the neighborhood streets at night. I don't tell him that we've talked once again at the batting cage. Only for a second because she's friendly and nice but...aloof?

I've never experienced aloof.

Well, maybe once or twice by the super smart girls at school. The ones saving themselves for college or wearing promise rings. This is the Bible belt, after all. Those girls acted aloof but also flustered when I was around—ignoring me more than anything else. But Bird, she pays attention to me—just not in the way I'm used to.

"Maybe the movies?" he asks, like I have any clue. I haven't asked a girl out in ages. Now, if he'd asked me where to fool around or how to make a girl pant your name I could tell him. A date? No freaking clue.

"Sure," I say. "The movies are good."

After practice Adrian corners Bird while I clean up the field, hanging bats on the racks and carrying the bucket of baseballs into the supply shed. Adrian is the only one left around here full time. Everyone else went to college or enlisted. That's what happens in a military town. The pressure to follow your father's footsteps into the career is strong.

Unless you're a baseball star. One with a professional career in your future. Unless your father was one of the men that never came back. Unless your family needs you.

I set the bucket on the floor of the shed and glance over at Adrian. He's alright. We played together in school but he busted his knee in a car accident. Got him out of the military, and he's not smart enough for college. So now we hang out. Coach this team. He works here, at the rec. Me? I'm a volunteer for now. While I figure it out.

Bird likes the attention from Adrian. I can tell by her smile. The way she sways hip to hip. I think about setting my hands there, on her hips, and pulling her close. She looks in my direction and I stare back, because even though I play it cool, I'm not going to be the first to look away. Ever.

We hold eye contact for a beat and through it all, Adrian never stops talking. I can't hear him, but I see his mouth moving and I see her eyebrow arch just a little bit in my direction. I realize then that even though she's nodding yes to Adrian, she's staring at me.

*

"Can you give me a ride to Lindsay's tonight?" Joe asks from my bedroom doorway, phone clutched in his hand.

"Yeah."

Not for the first time, I consider that I've turned into a chauffeur. Or a stay-at-home Dad. I'm not even sure how it exactly started. Necessity, I guess. Mom kept it all together when Dad was on duty, but the minute he was gone, she, and everything else, fell apart.

Joe sits in the passenger seat of the Jeep. His knee bounces out of nervousness and he keeps messing with the door lock. He must like this girl. I keep my eyes forward and ask, "So, you have condoms, right?"

He looks at me in shock. I can see him from the corner of my eye. I sigh and rub the back of my neck. "Look, Dad's not here so I have to ask because no way we're having another Jensen baby."

"It's not like that," is all he says, but I help with the laundry. I've seen his sheets. Fucking hormones.

"I know it's not now and that's cool—good even, but don't be stupid."

Joe nods and gives me directions to the house. I pull in the driveway. "Do you need me to pick you up?"

"I'll text you, okay?"

"Okay," I tell him. He hops out of the car and I stop him. "Joe, wait. Listen, there's one other thing Dad would want me to tell you."

He gives me a wary look. We don't talk about Dad often, but now I've brought him up twice. "Treat her nice. Really nice. And don't pressure her. Don't be a dick."

"I won't," he promises, looking at his shoes.

"Good," I say. "Let me know if you need a ride."

He's still slack jawed from my advice so I shift the Jeep into gear and leave him standing on the sidewalk outside of his girl's house.

*

Crack

Chink

Crack

Chink

"You're pretty good."

Whiff

Thud

I look back and there she is. Bird.

Easing back into position, I hit the remainder of the baseballs, connecting with each one in the sweet spot. When the machine slows, I take off the helmet and look back.

She's still here.

"What's up?" I ask, opening the door to the cage.

"Just watching you."

I sit next to her on the picnic table. "Yeah?"

"You're pretty accurate."

"I should be," I laugh. "I've been living and breathing this game since I was four."

Bird has been running again. A thin layer of sweat covers her arms and chest. She has one some kind of running top, like a tank but no bra. Again her nipples poke through the purple fabric and it's all I can do not to rub my thumb across. I wonder what her skin tastes like. "How many miles do you run?"

"Four or five. Depends on how I'm feeling. Today was a six-miler, though."

I raise an eyebrow. "How come?"

"I like to push myself, I guess. You're an athlete, I'm sure you know the feeling."

We're sitting close together and even her sweat smells good. I can't tell if she's flirting with me or not. If she was one of the sports groupies, my pants would be around my knees now, but she's not. I don't know what she is.

"I used to push myself, but not so much anymore."

"How come?"

I rest the bat on its head and spin it in a circle. "No reason to. Coming here is just an old habit. Somewhere to go that's not home."

She lets my comment hang, which makes me feel self-conscious. Before I can do anything about it she stands up and grabs the bat. "Want to give me a lesson?"

"Batting?"

"Sure. You coach the kids. Coach me."

"If you say so," I laugh.

I open the gate, letting her go in first

"First you need to stand like this." I demonstrate and she copies me.

"Like this?" she asks, sticking her ass out. Yes. Exactly.

"Elbows out," I direct. "And feet spread apart."

I stand behind her and touch her elbows. "Higher," I say.  I can smell the shampoo in her hair and see the small bird tattoo on her neck. She shifts so our bodies touch. Damn.

"Okay, you need to wear this." Needing space, I reach for the helmet and place it on her head. I then shove a handful of quarters into the slot.

She whiffs the first three balls. "Move back a little, you're too close to the plate." She gets a little bit of wood on the next two. "Elbows up."

I'm standing outside the cage but her form is all wrong. Between a break in the pitches I slip in behind her and adjust her body with my hands. She lets me manipulate her, and with my hands over hers, we connect the bat to the ball effortlessly.

"I did it!" she laughs, turning and missing the next pitch. It hits the fence with a loud clink.

"Watch out," I say, pulling her out of the way. I get her repositioned and she settles her butt into my crotch.

Is she doing it on purpose? It seems like it, but again...aloof.

She takes a couple more pitches, hitting fifty-fifty. When the machine stops she removes the helmet, shaking out her hair. "That was awesome."

"You did pretty well." I tell her. "Maybe you can start helping during practice."

"Yeah, right. I'd be useless out there. Plus, Felix would kill me. He idolizes you and Adrian."

"He's a good kid." I think about it for a minute and then ask, "Is everything okay at home? I haven't seen his mom in a while."

"His dad, Jeff, is my brother. He got stationed overseas for six months, so I came to help. She's pregnant and on bed rest, so I'll be here for a couple months."

The idea that she'll be around for a while excites me. She excites me.

My phone buzzes in my pocket and I fish it out. "My brother," I tell her, reading the message. "He's on a date or something but I've got to pick him up."

"Not the brother on the team?"

I laugh. "No, he's not dating yet. Thank god. I've got another brother, he's sixteen."

"You take care of them a lot, don't you?"

"Yeah, just helping out," I shrug, downplaying my involvement. What girl wants to hang out with a quasi-stay-at-home-dad?

I gather my bat and helmet and we start walking toward the Jeep. "You need a ride or something?"

Any other girl would say yes. They'd say yes and I'd ditch Joe and we'd make out in my car. I'd take her back to my room and I'd tear that tiny tank off her chest and finally get my hands on her ass. I'd know every inch of her body by the end of the night, but not this one. She shakes her head. "No, I think I'll just run," she says. "Thanks for teaching me."

"Any time." I toss my stuff in the back seat and watch her, this enigma, run down the street.

*

After that I can't get her out of my mind. I think about her when I wake up and before I go to sleep. I dream about her and wake up hard. In the shower, I jerk off thinking about that tattoo and how I want to scrape it with my teeth. I want to know what her tits would look like hanging over my body.

I know I'm good-looking. Attractive. Even when I was a kid people would comment on my looks. On my face. Girls love to run their hands down my jaw. Twist their fingers in my hair. Baseball kept me fit and I've spent a lifetime training for the pros, so even if I'll never get there, the results are still visible. I see people looking at my body. My arms and my abs. Older women, younger. My mom's friends. I've never met a girl I wanted that I couldn't have. Didn't have. But this one, Bird, with her big green eyes, has me stumped.

"How was the movie?" I ask Adrian. I'm nonchalant about it, like I don't care. Like I'm just being polite. I _shouldn't_ care, but seeing her in the bleachers in a green tank top and cut off shorts stirs things I'm not used to feeling.

"Alright. Some artsy flick she picked out."

I want to ask him if he kissed her but I'm not sure I want to know. "You going out again?"

He shrugs but I see the determination on his face. He's not backing down, even if it didn't go as well as he wanted. After practice, I herd Sophie and Owen to the car, passing Adrian and Bird in the parking lot.

I really should find out her name.

"Tucker will be there," Adrian says, his eyes flashing between the two of us.

"Be where?" I say.

"The game tomorrow night."

"The kids have a game?" she asks. "I didn't see that on the schedule."

Adrian shakes his head. "No, _our_ game. Men's league."

"Eight o'clock," I chime in, dropping my cool façade. I puff my chest out and tense my arm muscles. God, I'm desperate.

"We go out afterwards, too—you should come," Adrian says hopefully.

Sophie's tugging my hand so I start to move along. This is Adrian's thing, not mine, but when I glance back I see her looking at me with interest. I think she'll come. For me, not him.
Chapter 4

I feel my best after a game. The adrenaline runs high and my muscles are warm. These are the nights I welcome attention from girls like Mary (Marcy?) and non-committal sex to work off the high. I'm not in the place to be _anything_ to _anyone_ right now, other than for my family, and even for them I'm not sure I'm measuring up.

It's not the same as when I played high school ball or even for my club team. But even so I still have local celebrity status. It may be all I ever have and I find myself clinging to that position desperately.

Columbus is a small town, small enough for shitty bars and bartenders who look the other way. At nineteen, I could have been serving my country with the rest of the guys in this town. Why not serve me beer? Someone shoves one in my hand the minute I walk in the door and I've drained half of it before I get past the entry.

"Great game," people say when I stroll through the bar. Men clap me on the shoulder. Women rest a hand on my arm, squeezing the hard muscle beneath my shirt. They want to touch a hero and I'm the closest this town has had in a while—something positive outside the war. I failed them, but they still lift me up.

I spot Adrian by the bar talking to Bird. She's got some sort of white filmy shirt and those raggedy cut-offs she wears all the time. My eyes glue to her chest because she's showing a hint of cleavage and that's all it takes, you know? A hint. Makes a guy want to see what else is under there.

I start in their direction but come face to face with Shelly (Shelby?) a girl I hang around with some. Her hand cinches around my waist and she says, "Nice double."

I smile down at her. Shiny black hair. Firm tits. She's a lot of fun. "Thanks."

She links her fingers with mine. "Maybe later..."

"Yeah, I'll find you," I say, but my eyes are across the bar. On her. I tug away.

"Awesome game," Adrian says when I approach them.

"You too, man. How's the shoulder?" He took a pitch to the arm in the third inning.

Adrian rolls up his sleeve and reveals a fresh, red bruise. It hasn't even turned purple yet. "Pretty wicked."

I laugh and reach for the bottle the bartender slides in my direction. "That's gonna hurt like a mother."

"It already does." He grimaces. Adrian looks at Bird, whose been watching the two of us. "Hollis wants to know why the hell you're hanging around Columbus and not in the big leagues?"

"Who's Hollis?"

They both look at me like I'm an idiot and I realize that Bird's real name is Hollis.

Hollis.

I like it.

Once that's cleared up I narrow my eye at Adrian. His comment is a low blow and it makes me wonder if he realizes she's been watching me and not him. "Yeah, well I want to know when you're going to stop pussy-ing out and not take a hit every fucking week." I tag him on the shoulder for good measure and he winces in pain.

"Wow."

We both turn and stare at Hollis. I look away and take a sip of my beer.

"So this is what a lifetime of testosterone-fueled sports does to a guy?" she asks, looking irritated.

Whatever.

I empty the bottle and place it on the bar top. I don't need this. Adrian's shit and this girl's judgment. I don't even know her and she sure as hell doesn't know me. I walk away.

It doesn't take me long to find another group to settle in with, one that doesn't pressure me or ask questions. Shelby (Shelly?) sticks to my side and her hands are soft and warm. I should be leaving with her any time now, heading out for a good time, but Hollis lingers around the edge of the bar, distracting me. She mingles easily with this crowd of unfamiliar faces like she's a regular. I wonder if she asks any of them about me. I wonder what they tell her.

"So," the girl with jet-black hair says.

I lift an eyebrow.

"You want to go back with me?"

The pressure in my pants says I do. And my fingers drunkenly tangled in the hair resting on her back agree, but one look at Hollis standing near the door in that gauzy shirt makes me say, "I'd better not."

I leave with the same fanfare. Congratulations. Excellent hit. Nice save. I avoid their eyes because they're hopeful, something I let go of long ago. The outside air is warm and muggy but for the first time all night, I can breathe.

How long can I do this?

Hollis approaches me near my Jeep. "Hey."

"Hi."

"I didn't get the chance to tell you how much I enjoyed the game, you know, before you and Adrian started acting like jerks."

"Yeah, sorry about that." I reach in my pocket for my keys. They drop to the ground with a clink.

Hollis picks them up first. When she bends over I get a peek down her shirt. White lace. Nice.

"Maybe I should drive?"

"My Jeep?" I shake my head. "No."

"You're drunk, Tucker."

I lean against the car. Hollis reaches for my hand. "I've got a car, let me drive. You can pick up the Jeep tomorrow."

Her hand in mine feels nice and I let it stay as she maneuvers us through the parking lot. She has an old Volvo, more rust than yellow paint. I settle in the seat next to her. "You drive a stick?"

"Sure."

She starts the car and the engine is loud but soothing. I watch her hand grip around the knob of the gear shift, imagining what it would feel like to have her hand on me. The idea makes me shift in my seat.

"What?" she asks, looking over at me. She smiles and I realize I, too, have a grin on my face.

"Nothing." I give her directions and stare at the city, then rows of houses as we drive.

"So what's your story, Tucker Jensen?"

I shrug. "Army brat. Baseball star. Big brother."

"You're a brat?" she asks.

"Spoiled rotten."

I look over at this girl and her hair blowing around from the open top. I want her but she plays me with a level of aloofness I can't get a handle on. "What about you?"

Hollis stares out the window. I stare at her. "Wanderer. Adrift. Rolling stone."

"That's your story now or always."

"Always," she says. "I left home at sixteen. Went to school for a while, dropped out, traveled a bit. I kind of just go where life takes me."

I snort. "And life brought you here? To Columbus?"

"My family needed me. My brother is all I have left." She tilts her head. "Plus, I've never been here before and I like meeting new people."

"Sounds like most the people around here. Moving a lot. New people all the time."

"Sort of," she agrees.

My tongue feels loose and I'm warm and comfortable next to her. Before I think better of it, I say, "I had a scholarship."

"In baseball?"

"To Harvard."

"What happened?"

"I passed it up for my shot at pro."

"And..."

I look at her. She's so pretty. So different. She seems sort of flighty but not now. Now she's entirely focused. On me. I rub my hand over my head and turn back to the window.

"And my father never came back from Iraq," I say to the wind. "I stayed home to help my mom."

"Oh, Tucker," she says. "That seems improbably unfair."

"Life's not fair," I say. I've heard it so many times but it's true. I point up ahead. "That's my house. The blue one."

It's past midnight and all the lights are out. The kids should be in bed. Sophie with her blanket that she's never grown out of. Owen with his cap stuffed under his pillow. Joe's probably texting Lindsey on his phone. I know I would be. And my mom...I don't even want to think about it.

I hook a finger in the door handle and give Hollis a smile. "Thanks for the ride, Bird."

"What?"

I cup her neck and rub my fingers over where I suspect the tattoo should be inked in her skin. "That's what I call you."

"Bird?"

"Yeah," I say and I watch her lick her bottom lip. My dick goes hard(er) and I take the risk, leaning in to kiss her. I go for it slow, not wanting to make a jackass out of myself, because I'm not used to rejection. If anyone could reject me it would be her. This girl. This enigma.

She doesn't though, her lips press against mine and I feel her tongue in my mouth. She tastes like beer. She smells like sunshine. I'd give anything to reach my hand up her skirt, to tug at the lace bra I'd seen earlier that night.

She pulls away from me before I can make my next move and says, "Bird, I like that. Good night, Tucker."

I can't fight the smile on my face but I know it's time to go. I open the door and step outside. "See you."

Raising my hand in a wave, she starts off, the engine loud and rumbling. I walk up the pathway to the side door, bumping into the bushes along the way, feeling lighter than I have in months.

*

"Hey, hey, hey, hey..."

I open and eye and see Sophie an inch from my face. I push my head into the pillow.

"Tucker, time to get up. Mom said." She hits the top of the pillow.

"I'm up."

I start to think she may have left but then I feel her bouncing on the bed. "I'm not leaving 'til you get up. Mom told me not to let you go back to sleep and to tell you it's your own fault for staying out so late."

Mom. I fight the rising anger building in my chest.

"I'm up," I say again. "I need a minute, okay?"

"I'll be outside the door."

I tug her hair. "I'm sure you will. Go make me some coffee, eh?"

The hangover isn't bad. I didn't drink that much. I remembered everything about the night before. The game, the double, Adrian, Bird.

Hollis. Not Bird.

In the bathroom I take a piss, working through the morning wood that got woodier the second I think of Bird and her lace bra and...shit.

Sophie points to the coffee on the kitchen counter. We all had to grow up a little faster over the last couple of years. Well, half grow up, half stunted. None of us can figure out how to move on completely without him.

"Sophie and Owen have camp today. Joe is working for Mr. Boggs until six. I need you to drop them all off, okay?"

"What time will you be home?" I ask, pouring sugar into my coffee, making it as sweet as possible.

"Probably after six."

"So I need to pick them up, too."

Using the reflection of the microwave, she applies a thick coat of lipstick. Mom got the job working at a law firm downtown after dad died. She had to do something, she said.

Something, apparently, did not include raising four kids.

"That would be great. Just think, once Joe earns enough money for a car you'll be off the hook," she says.

I inherited my looks from my mother. She's beautiful. Even now, with the graying hair and tired eyes. She carries a streak of vanity that I also inherited. She wears nice clothes to work and I suspect she has a thing for someone in the office. She's got that look. The one the girls wear when they have a thing for me.

"We've got a game at 5:30," I tell her. Sophie and Owen's team. I swallow the question of if she'll be there or not. She never comes. "I can't pick up Joe."

"Well, text him and tell him to get a ride or walk. I'm sure the landscaping crew can drop him off." She slips her arms into her jacket, adjusting the collar.

"Dinner?" I ask, knowing better.

"Just grab something or whatever."

Or whatever. My father would roll over in his grave.

She grabs her briefcase and slings her purse over her shoulder. She's halfway to the door when she stops and walks back over. "I heard you had a good game last night."

"It was alright."

"Thanks for all you do, honey. I'd be lost without you." She kisses me on the cheek and I'm engulfed with her perfume. The boiling anger secedes a little.

"Have a good day, Mom."

She stops to give Sophie a kiss and to ruffle Owen's hair and she's out the door.

And that's why I can't leave.

*

Adrian gives me and the kids a ride since I left my car at the bar. I don't apologize for last night—neither does he, but I know we're cool. He needs to work on not running his mouth so damn much and I need to get a handle on my temper.

"I'll see you at the center," he says, leaving me in the empty bar parking lot.

I stop by one of the coffee shops downtown on the way to work. I've just placed my order when I feel a hand on my shoulder.

Bird.

"Not surprised to see you here today," she laughs.

"Yeah, I figured caffeine would make it better." I look around but don't see Felix. "You off duty?"

She nods. "Felix had a play date. My sister-in-law is napping. What about you?"

"I've got to go in to work," I say. She looks a little defeated, which makes me happy. I add, "Then the game tonight."

"Another night, another game."

"Welcome to my life."

We move away from the counter and I rub my hand over the back of my neck. "Thanks for giving me a ride home last night. Wrapping my Jeep around a telephone pole would have sucked."

"Anytime," she says.

We stand awkwardly together. I've never talked to a girl like this, where we just talked and didn't take it further. And to be honest, all I want is to take it further, but I like her, too. In that talking kind of way.

Everything is weird.

"So last night," she says, diving into the weirdness. I should have known. Something about Hollis seems fearless. "You and me."

God, she hated that kiss. Fuck. I scramble to make an apology. "Yeah, sorry about that. Can I claim drunken douche?"

"I'm a big girl Tucker. I can handle a little drunken kiss." She looks at me from under heavy eyelids. "Or more."

I swallow, taking in that information. "Good to know."

She raises an eyebrow.

"So you'll be there tonight?" I ask. I want to add something dirty, I want to touch her but I restrain myself.

Hollis holds up her coffee cup in a mock toast. "In my team colors."

Is it wrong I'm hoping she's talking about her underwear? God, please wear red underwear.

"So I'll see you then," she prompts when I've gone silent thinking about her panties.

"Right, tonight."

*

I think about her all day. While I'm organizing rosters and the game lists. While Adrian and I reline the fields. It's menial work but it keeps me close to the game I love. It's all I have right now.

Other than my increasing thoughts about Bird.

I'm going over the final roster at Adrian's desk when our supervisor Daniel comes in. Daniel's a legend in Columbus. He knows everyone in town. He keeps tabs on all the players, makes referrals for them once they get to middle and high school. He's probably the main pulse on the league, other than the high school coach.

"Tucker," he says, pulling up a chair. "You got a minute?"

"Sure." I stick the pencil behind my ear.

"I got a call from Atlanta today. There's a high school assistant coaching position opening up. They're interested in you going out for the job."

I don't even think about it. I can't. I just say, "Sounds like a great opportunity."

He and I look at one another for a moment. "Son, you can't volunteer around here forever."

"What? You've got someone to replace me?"

"That's kind of the point. You're not replaceable. You're one of a kind. The best athlete I've had come through here in a dozen years. Don't let what happened with your dad hold you back."

If anyone else had said it, I'd probably take a swing. But not Daniel, he's stuck by me through all of this. The night we got the news. The funeral. The decision about school. My choice to stay in Columbus and skip the tryouts. He stuck by me even if he didn't like all of my choices.

"They need me."

He readjusts the cap on his head and I see his graying hair. "They do. But they'll manage. She'll manage."

"Are you kidding? She can barely keep her head out of her ass."

Daniel shakes his head. "Your mother isn't an idiot, Tucker. You're all just holding one another back. I'm suggesting a job two hours away. Not going on the road, which is my first choice."

I look down at the desk. "I made a promise."

"Not to give your life up."

I lean back in the seat and run my hands over my face. He's telling me everything I want to hear but nothing that I can do anything about. I _did_ make a promise. Nothing about my talent or options changes that.

The hope in Daniel's eyes is too much to bear—someone else depending on me—pulling me in an opposite direction. Because I can't stand to disappoint him, I finally relent. "I'll think about it."

He breaks into a smile and claps me on the back. "I'll send them your number. You won't regret this."

He's wrong, I think as he exits the office. I will regret this because if there's something I've learned, it's that false hope is dangerous.

*

Unfortunately the talk with Daniel left me restless. Edgy and trapped. I take it out on the kids during their game. My anger stresses them out and they start to crumble. Sophie drops a fly ball. Owen strikes out in the seventh inning. It's unfair for me to act this way, but...right. Life's not fair. They may as well learn it now.

I dismiss them after the game, with little more than a grunt. They run to their parents seeking ice cream and soothing. Sophie and Owen catch a ride with someone more pleasant. A normal mom and dad.

I stalk off the field, throwing the bats into the shed, while Adrian turns off the lights. "I've got it man, see you tomorrow," I yell. Not wanting to deal with my temper tantrum, he leaves me in the dark.

"Dammit," I shout when the bats hit the cement floor with a clatter. I'll clean them up tomorrow. Right now I just need to get out of here.

"Tucker—"

Hollis stands between me and the shed door.

"Not now, Bird."

She touches her neck with one hand and reaches for my arm with another. "What's going on? What is this?"

"It's not a good time."

"Did something happen?"

I give her a hard look. "This is it. Me. Didn't you hear? I'm sure they all told you."

"Told me what? And who are 'they'?"

"You know, how I'm damaged and lost. I should have made it big, but I'm stuck in this town forever. They pity me."

"I don't know what you're talking about." I push past her but she catches me in the shadowy dugout. Cupping my chin with her hand. "I don't pity you."

"You'd be the only girl around who didn't. The others think they can fuck the pain away."

She starts to laugh, removing her hand from my face and clutching her stomach. "Tucker, the girls around here don't pity you, but that edgy, dark thing you have going on? I'm sure it works for a lot of them."

I tense my jaw, because who _is_ this girl? I take a step closer. "Does it work for you?"

We stare at one another. I can see her eyes flash in the dark and instead of answering she pulls my neck down, kissing my chin, my lips, then my mouth. I taste the salt and butter from the concession stand popcorn on her lips. I take her head into my hands and kiss her back.

She's unexpected. Different. I push her against the concrete wall and press my hips into her, the way I would with the other girls. She pulls away and rests her hand on my chest. Her green eyes capture mine and she says, "Calm down. I'm not going anywhere."

Her words and assertiveness rattle me and I stare blankly at her face, while the blood rushes to my dick. "What?"

Again, she doesn't answer but kisses me again, reaching her fingers in the top of my shorts. I hum at the feeling that courses through me. Her warm fingers against my sensitive skin. All the anger and disappointment of the day rolls away and I lean into her, pressing her hard against the dugout wall. The caged animal inside me roars but I fight him back.

"We should get out of here," I grunt.

She looks up at me with those wide eyes, fingering the hem of her shirt. "Why?"

I place my hands on her sides, grazing my palms over the edge of her breasts. They're perfect, fitting in my hand exactly. Round and firm. A woman's breasts, not a girl's. Her nipples rise through the shirt in reaction. "Bird, don't make me regret this."

She pulls her shirt over her head exposing herself. There's not an ounce of shyness in her and when I reach for her bra she bats my hand away. Taking control. "I don't believe in regrets."

I snort because that's all my life is full of, but I'm mesmerized by what's in front of me. Black lace this time and peeking out from between her tits is another tattoo. I reach for it, tugging the middle of her bra down until I can see it better.

Another bird. This one has wings spread wide, touching the arching curve inside each breast. "Jesus," I breathe, wondering who this girl is and where she came from.

I press my thumb against it, fanning my fingers over her skin, brushing against her hard nipple. Her breath catches and she rubs against me, her own fingers at my buttons.

My shorts fall to my ankles and I kick them off, trying not to trip and fall. My cock bounces painfully against my stomach and she touches the tip with perfect fingers. Then she lifts her finger to her lips, sucking the pre-cum off the end.

"One second," I tell her and scramble for my pants. I find what I'm looking for and tear open the condom, because like I told Joe, we don't need any Jensen babies running around here and my dick has been all over the place. She plucks the wrapper from my hands and masterfully rolls it on, grazing my balls when she finishes.

Ahhhhh.

I wish I could say this was the first time I'd fucked a girl in the dugout. I wish the first girl had been _this_ girl, but I'd been here before. I reach under her thin, cotton skirt and tug off her panties. I run two fingers between her legs.

"I'm ready," she assures me, kicking her underwear next to her shirt.

I pick her up, her legs wrapping around my waist, her mouth connected to mine. She makes a tiny squeak when I slide in and I open my eyes. Hers are still closed but she's smiling and I kiss it right off her mouth. I kiss her while I move inside her. I kiss her when she says, "Faster," breathless against my tongue.

Her fingers grip the back of my shirt, digging through the fabric to the skin. I wish we were flesh to flesh and I move my lips from her mouth to the bird between her breasts, sucking the soft skin.

Her breathing quickens, which, thank god, because I'm holding out as long as I can. I don't want to disappoint her. I want her to come but my balls are throbbing, tightening and I think I'm not going to make it when she makes these little cries in my ear.

I slam into her twice, three times, unloading everything I've got, groaning loud. Weeks of pent-up frustration pour out of me. All the anger from today. All the hurt. I grip her ass and thrust one more time, pressing my sweaty forehead to hers.

"Damn."

"Seriously," Hollis says. I gently ease her to the ground, trying not to make a mess.

Were both breathing heavy and covered in sweat. I hand over her discarded clothing while picking up my own. We dress in the darkened dugout, saying little, but I have to keep my hands off of her—even now. Even after that, all I want is to do it again.

"God," I tell her, locking the shed door and taking her hand. We walk toward the empty parking lot. "I needed that. You have no idea."

"I have a little bit of an idea," she laughs, swinging our hands.

She's standing at her shitty car and I open the door.

"Goodnight, Tucker."

She kisses me again, tongue slipped in my mouth. I kiss her back but don't touch her. well, only her hair because her skin lights my body on fire and I don't need to go home hard again.

"Night."

I watch until the taillights turn the corner and she's out of sight.

*

"You're in a better mood today," Adrian says.

He catches me in the shed cleaning up my mess from last night. Well, not that mess. The one from my temper-tantrum.

"Yeah, I just needed to work it out, I guess."

"Batting cages?"

I glance over to see if he's serious and he is. Dead serious. I nod and say, "Yeah, I just needed to slam some balls. Works every time."

We have a rare afternoon and evening free. Once I'm finished in the shed, I tell him, "I'm taking off, okay?"

"Sure, man." Really, what can he say? I don't get paid to do this. Bird has captured my thoughts, though, and I need to find her. Feel her. I need to see her naked in the daylight. "You coming out tonight?"

Usually we spend our nights out at the bar, playing pool and hitting on girls. For once, I'm unsure of my plans. "Um...I'll let you know."

"Family stuff?" God, he's a nosy bastard, but he means well.

"Yeah, just need to get everyone settled."

I drive straight to her house, the one next to Cassie's, and park in front. Her rusty Volvo sits in the driveway. I hop out, keeping my pace slow, because I'm about to crawl out of my skin thinking she's nearby. I've got my fist hovering over the front door when I hear a voice behind me, "Coach Tucker!"

"Hey, man," I greet Felix, giving him a high five. He's got ice cream all over his face and Hollis walks up the pathway behind him. I flick my eyes to hers.

Hi.

"Felix, go in and wipe your face. You can watch some TV if you want."

"Is this okay?" I ask, realizing I'm intruding on her life. She may not want to see me in the daylight. I can deal with that.

"Yeah." She smiles. "You want to come back to my place?"

I frown. "You have a place?"

"Give me a minute."

She disappears into the house after Felix and I wait on the porch while she's gone. It's takes about five minutes but when she comes out she says, "Wow, I have the _worst_ headache. I think I should go lie down." She winks and waves me to follow her around the back of the house.

I've done my fair share of sneaking around with girls around this city. I've climbed through windows, made out in the locker room. I've even felt up a girl and gotten sucked off underneath the bleachers.

But Hollis does something different.

Because she is different.

She takes me home in the middle of the day.

Not her brother's home. Not directly. She has an apartment in the basement, with its own private entry. She grabs the tips of my fingers and walks down the steps. We're in the shadow of the house and I can't take it a moment longer.

I push her through the door with my lips on hers and her hands fumbling with the buttons on my shorts. God, I hope I don't cum when she touches me, but I may. I might, because she's so hot and her hands feel perfect and I close my eyes and try to calm the fuck down.

"Tucker," Hollis says. "Open your eyes."

I take a deep breath. When I open my eyes she's standing in front of me peeling off her sundress dress. She wiggles out of it.

"Jesus," I say, taking in the sight of her. Yellow lace bra and...

"That makes it easy," I say when I see that she's foregone her panties today.

I soak in her curvy hips and round breasts. It leads me to ask the question that has been on my mind for weeks now. "Bird, how old are you?"

Her finger hooks under her bra strap and I've picked the worst possible moment to ask questions. A tiny line creases between her forehead. "Why?"

"Because you don't look like the other girls I've been with." I take a step forward and trail a finger down her side. "You're beautiful and confident and something about you is different."

"I'm twenty-six. Is that a big deal?"

Inexplicably my balls tighten and the blood rushes straight to my dick. I swallow. "No," I say. "Hell no."

"Good," she says, with the most wicked smile. She removes her bra slowly. I'm caught in the glory of her magnificent tits and I reach my hands out like metal to a magnet. So perfect. I run my thumbs over her erect nipples, bringing goose bumps to her flesh.

Hollis leads me to the bed and I kick off my shorts. Quickly, pushes down my boxers, freeing my dick from the restraining cotton. She spins so that I'm the one laying on my back and climbs over me.

The view is spectacular.

Her breasts, hell. I palm them both and she arches her back, pushing her hips forward. My cock is coated in her warmth, because she's fucking eager. She's eager to fuck and as I thumb her nipples she raises up, rubbing her body, slick and wet over mine.

"These," she says, running her hands over my stomach. "Are brilliant."

"Yeah?" I ask, keeping my hands and eyes on her every move.

She shimmies down my body, kissing and licking from my chin to my navel. Hot breath and teeth explore every inch of my chest and stomach. She lingers over my nipples, teasing them and it's like a jolt of lightning directly to my dick. When she gets near my navel I jerk, almost losing it right there.

"You like that?"

"Uh huh."

I feel her breath on my cock and curl my fingers in her hair, willing her mouth to make contact. I make every effort to not be an asshole and ram my dick down her throat like I want to. Jesus Christ, I want to fuck her mouth so badly.

Her head pops up and I see her green eyes flashing. "Did you know I wanted you that first time we met?"

I'm caught off guard. "Umm when?"

"When you fixed Sophie's hair."

I prop up on my elbows so I can see her better. She's got my dick held down so it doesn't pop her in the eye or something. I may cum on her face if she doesn't hurry this talk session along. "You did?"

"Yep." She releases my cock and it springs upward. Her pink tongue darts out and she licks the tip. "Obviously, you're hot, but the kid thing? Adorable."

"I'll remember that." The words come out in a pant.

"I thought you looked like you knew what you were doing. Your confidence was a turn on. And lord these arms." She touches my biceps. "You have amazing arms."

I tug her nipples. "You've got awesome tits."

"I knew then I wanted to fuck you." She licks the shaft of my penis, balls to tip. "I knew you would be great in bed. Maybe a little excitable," she laughs, taking me in her mouth whole, sucking the tip. "But I like that."

"Damn Bird, just suck my dick or I'm going to blow my wad all over the bed."

She stops talking and gets busy. Man, if I thought those other girls knew how to give head, I was mistaken. The teasing and taunting make it all the better and just when I think I'm going to cum in her mouth she moves back up my body, raising above me and taking me in slow and measured.

She rides me with abandon and I'm not surprised, I'm not anything but pure orgasmic. She starts to whimper, to hum and I reach my hand between her legs to help her along.

"Oh," she cries, taking my other hand and biting down on my palm.

The pain spurs my climax. It hits me deliciously hard, and I jerk into her relentlessly until she collapses on top of my chest. Her boobs press into me, both of us sticky with sweat, neither of us ready to move.

"Was that what you were hoping for?" I ask, brushing her hair out of her eyes.

"Better." She bites my bottom lip.

"So this..." I ask, because I have no idea where to go from here.

She rolls to her side and runs her hand through my pubic hair, stirring feelings below. "Is great—no labels, okay? I don't do well with labels.

I wave of relief washes over me. "Neither do I."
Chapter 5

I spend the next week in a state of fucked-out bliss. This thing with Hollis has proved to be just the thing to get me out of my funk. Who knew serial sex with a girl in a not-relationship would lighten my spirits?

Part of it is her age. Hollis isn't that much older than me, just seven years, but in that time she'd learned a lot of things about sex and how to make a man happy. Even dirty sex, like fucking in public. That's something I've done countless times with townie girls but it's better with her. It feels better. We have more fun.

Like right now. I'm high off a win. A home run and two singles. I'm rewarded after the game by Bird asking me to take her somewhere public but quiet. We're parked in the woods, behind the ball field. The stars are visible through the tree cover, we've got the Jeep top down and Bird is sitting on my face.

Man, she tastes amazing.

She started in my lap but reached up to grab the roll bar. I reclined back and pushed her upward, tearing her panties off in a frenzy. I could smell her and my dick hurt like hell, but it's the least I could do. Plus, I wanted to.

I lick her slowly, taking my time to get between her folds, skirting around the sensitive spot near the top. I grab her ass, spreading her cheeks and she pushes her pussy in my face, desperate and horny.

"Tucker," she calls my name. I like the way my name sounds on her lips. The way it bounces off the trees. I like the way her lips taste on my lips and I use my fingers to open her wider to get to her clit.

She starts moaning, deep and low, twisting her body to get closer to my mouth, suffocating me with her pussy. I find her clit, swollen and ready, and I take it into my mouth, sucking on it as she begins to chant, "fuck, fuck, fuck, shit," over and over, until she's a quivering, folded mass in my lap.

"Man," she says, pressing her face into my shirt. She's not finished yet, though, because her hands are on my zipper and she pulls me out and pushes herself down hard and fast. "Keep going," she says into my mouth. "I'll come again."

Fine by me, I think, watching her perky perfect boobs bounce in my face. For real, there is nothing like her tits. Nothing in this world. I push her shirt up so I can get a better view. Her bra smushes them together so I unlatch the front clasp and spread them apart to kiss the bird wings. I kiss her nipples. I lick the hard, erect points at the top. Dizzy with lust, I start my own low moans while this girl, this woman, fucks me like it's her job.

"Bite them," she says, using both hands to offer up her tits to me. I take them and pinch one nipple with my fingers and engulf the other in my mouth, biting down. She cries, obviously turned on and starts to move faster. This is like a signal to my balls inciting me to move faster, until I become light headed. Every ounce of my blood rushing straight to my dick. With her breast in my mouth I come, clamping down harder in release.

"Ohhhhfuuugggkkk," I say, around the flesh.

"God," she pants. "Yes. Just...holy shit."

I remove my mouth and inspect her skin gently with my fingers. Red splotchy marks cover her breasts. "Shit, are you okay? That was maybe a little—"

"Perfect," she says, brushing the sweaty hair off my forehead.

"Yeah?" I ask.

"Yeah."

*

Messages wait for me in the office when I finally go in. I've been skipping out, only sticking around for practice and games. I can't keep away from Bird. I have a feeling she won't be around long and I want to take every chance I have to be with her.

Three messages are from the high school in Atlanta asking for an interview. I push them both to the side and look for something else to work on.

"You can't keep ignoring those," Adrian says when he walks in an hour later.

"I'm not ignoring them."

He scoffs and sits behind this desk, booting up his computer. "Where have you been all week anyway?"

I'm not sure if he's caught on to me and Hollis yet. Our not-relationship is pretty obvious though, but it still feels like I stole her from him anyway. "I needed a break. Just some time."

"Well, hopefully during that time you got the balls to call about that job. Daniel stuck his neck out for you. Don't let him down."

I stare at the number scribbled on the yellow piece of paper. Adrian's right, of course. This isn't just about me. It's about everyone else. I fight the resentment building up. How typical that this, like every other decision I make, ends up being about everyone else and not just me. It's never just about me.

"I'll call. But no promises," I tell Adrian. "And don't say anything to Daniel yet. I'm not sure where this will lead."

I pick up my phone and the number and walk outside.

*

"When can I pick you up?"

Bird hums on the other side of the line. "I'm free now if you want. Felix is out for the night at a sleepover."

"The kids are gone, too. I'll be over in a couple of minutes."

I change into a clean, dark blue t-shirt and khaki shorts, but don't shave. Hollis likes the way my beard feels against her skin even if it leaves her red and raw. Man, just thinking about her makes my dick twitch in anticipation. But I'm trying to hold back here a little. I like her. A lot ,and after that phone call today I need something to take my mind off the future. Or lack thereof.

"Going out, honey?" Mom asks. I've stopped to pick up my keys from the kitchen counter.

"Yeah."

She walks in from the den. "You look nice. Date?"

I stare at her hard. Does she really want to do this? "Just a friend."

"I've noticed you've been out a lot lately, which is good. You need to take time for yourself." She takes a deep breath and I wait for whatever it is she's building up to. "I ran into Daniel today. He told me about the job offer in Atlanta."

Fuck.

"Yeah, it's not a big deal. I'm not taking it."

"Why not?"

I look at her like she's lost her mind. She _has_ lost her mind. "Are you kidding? There's no way I can move right now."

She takes a step forward and touches my arm. I jerk away. "Tucker we can survive without you, you know that right?"

I laugh. "Okay, sure. Tell me, when does Sophie have baseball practice? What size shoe does Owen wear? Oh and even better, do you realize Joe has a girlfriend? A cute girl, too. You may want to buy him some rubbers. Oh wait. I already did that."

"Tucker!" she shouts. "I know I haven't been around as much as I should have been over the last couple of years, but I'm better now. I'm doing better and I realize I've relied too much on you. You have a life—a gift, and I want you to use it."

"By being a fucking high school baseball coach?" My hands clench into tight fists. "That's where you think I should use my gift? Jesus," I say, pushing past her. "I'm glad to know I'm replaceable here like everywhere else."

"Tucker—"

"No, Mom. I don't want to hear it. I've made my choices and they have nothing to do with you and your parenting. Dad must have known you would fall apart and that's why he made me promise."

A flash of confusion covers her face. "What?"

"Never mind," I say, storming out the door.

"Tucker!" she yells, but I'm done talking with her. I hop in my car and pull out of the driveway, focused on one thing. Hollis.

*

"What's wrong?" she asks immediately. I've tried to push the anger and hurt aside but it's impossible. Too many things happened today. The phone call. My mom.

"Nothing—want to go somewhere special?" I ask. "To me at least?"

"I'd love to go somewhere Tucker Jensen thinks is special."

I drive across town with her hand on my thigh and I love the way it feels. Intimate. Possessive. When I pull into the darkened parking lot she laughs. "I should have known."

I jump out of the Jeep and run to the other side, helping her down. She dressed nicer tonight, too. A tight-fitting dress that accentuates every part of her body. She looks fucking hot.

I lead her around the side of the building, holding up the fence so she could get through. I've made this trek a hundred times but it's the first time I've brought a girl with me.

"So what is this place?" she asks once we're in the stands. There's just enough daylight left for us to see the whole stadium.

"Golden Park. It's an unused baseball park that's been here since the twenties. The last real games they had here were the Olympics. But back in the day every major player came through here. Babe Ruth. Shoeless Joe."

"That's pretty cool," she says leaning into me. We're standing over the railing near home plate. "And kind of sad, I guess."

"Why's that?"

"All this unused potential—lying in waste. I bet you'd look amazing playing in a big park like this."

Her words cut but she doesn't realize it—at least not all the way. I kiss her to make myself feel better. It works.

Sort of.

"I got this job offer," I tell her. "Coaching baseball."

"That's great!" she says, giving me a hug.

"Thanks but I'm not taking it."

She looks at me carefully. "Why not?"

"It's in Atlanta."

"So."

"I can't leave the kids, you know that."

She presses her palms to the railing and pushes up. "Bullshit."

"What?"

"I'm calling bullshit. You could go if you wanted—you just don't want to." I can't argue with her because she's right. Hollis isn't done though. "I think it's something else though. Something's holding you back and it's not your family."

"That's where you're wrong," I say. "It's entirely my family."

She looks at me. "But..."

"But nothing. I promised I'd look after them."

"Forever?"

That is where things get sketchy. How long does a promise last? Especially one I never thought I'd have to fulfill.

"Long enough that I'm not going to Atlanta."

"Hmm..."

"What?"

"I don't think coaching suits you anyway. That's not where you should be."

I laugh because this girl is crazy. "No?"

"No." She looks over the field and spreads her arms wide. "You should be out there."

"Ah, well, that one definitely isn't happening."

"Why not?"

"Bird." I shake my head. "That ship has sailed."

"You're nineteen, for Christ's sake. Don't tell me it's too late."

She's touched a nerve that I don't want exposed. Time with Hollis is selfish time and I don't want to spend it dwelling on my failures. "Subject change? Please?"

"Fair enough. Why did you bring me here?" she asks. She's got her back to the railing now and her chest pushed forward. I reach my hands out and cup her tits.

"I like to come here when I'm feeling pissy. It makes me feel better. Like you do."

"Hmm." She arches her back a little more and I pull at the straps of her dress.

"I'm not fucking you on home plate," she laughs. My hands wander over any piece of skin I can find.

"That's okay. Only players are allowed on the field, anyway," I say, spinning her so her hands grip the railing. "How about this?" I ask, pressing into her from behind.

She doesn't speak but pushes her ass into my cock. It's already hard. It's always hard when she's around but her movement works like a green light, encouraging me to dive in.

I kiss her neck and shoulders while hiking up her skirt. Her ass is bare and I run my hands over the smooth skin. We've both taken to going commando for easy access, because we already know it's going to happen. We just never know exactly when. I unzip my own pants and I palm both sides of her ass cheeks.

"You're so fucking hot," I state the obvious, but even though this is a consistent thing, she still makes my mind turn to mush. I run my dick between her legs, coating it with her wet anticipation. She's slick and sticky and God, there's never a need for lube, because she's always ready.

I tease her, working my cock between her folds and I feel her fingers reach down to the space between her legs. She touches herself, grazing the tip of my cock in the process.

"Unnnfff," she moans. I still haven't entered her, instead tugging down her dress straps, releasing her tits into the open. I grab and twist her nipples while breathing into her ear.

"Goddam," I say, when I finally take her, bending her over as far as she'll go. It's a beautiful sight. This girl below me. The open field. Home plate.

For this brief moment I realize this is the only purely selfish thing I have in my life. Hollis. Sex. It makes me feel powerful and I drive into her, over and over, eliciting a grunt from her with each pound.

"Yeee—" she starts.

"Tell me, babe," I grunt. Wanting the adoration. Needing it.

"Yeesss Tucker, godddddddd," she whines.

"Harder?" I hope, because I want to go harder. I want to bang her harder than a line drive.

She nods her head and pants, "Yes, harder."

I do as she says and we both start to spiral, her body going lax and limp over the railing. I wrap my arm around her waist and hold on tight, continuing to pump into her until I fall on top of her.

"Holy shit," she says, holding onto the metal rail, attempting to catch her breath.

I look out over the field and at this half-naked girl, glowing with post-coital bliss and say, "I never thought I could love baseball more, but after that? I think I do."

*

Sex with Bird isn't crazy. I mean, it's hot. Super hot. She's all in and obviously so am I. She's not into incredibly kinky stuff and I'm okay with that. I'm at that place and age, I guess, where I can get off just thinking about a naked girl, watching a little porn or simply having a hot girl breathe on me. I don't need whips and chains to make it better.

Just being with Bird already is better.

She always surprises me, though. Tonight she gets on her knees in a tit-bursting black lace bra and makes me sit on the bed in front of her. I try to rip it off. I don't need fabric, even just a little bit, coming between me and those tits, but she pushes my hand away and reaches for my cock. She licks it liberally, up and down both sides.

I lean back on my hands and close my eyes, preparing for an amazing blowjob. Instead of Hollis' mouth I feel something different, something tight and warm and open my eyes. She's taken off her bra and has begun caressing her tits over my cock.

The sensation is amazing.

With her hands she manipulates her boobs, rubbing them over and around my dick. She pushes them underneath, grazing my balls. She captures it tight between the two and runs them up and down, eliciting a shudder of pleasure.

Hollis smiles at me and I lean in and give her a kiss of appreciation, because Jesus, I knew I loved her rack and I knew it had many purposes but this was the best one yet.

"You do so much for everyone else," she says. "I just wanted to give you something in return."

"Yeah?" My hips have already started to move. I can't help it.

She nods. "I want you to fuck my tits, Tucker. I want you to come on my body," she says seductively, running her soft skin over mine. My dick passes over the bird wings, coating them with my excitement.

Bird uses her hands to squeeze her tits tight and she begins moving up and down. We both watch as my engorged dick slowly fucks her breasts. Needing more of her, I grab for her nipples, plucking them in rhythm.

"Fuck, baby," I tell her, letting her do most of the work. I'm selfish with this girl and if she wants to do this for me I'll let her, but I keep my hands on her because she's sensitive as hell and I know she can get off, too.

The closer I get, the more I see her smile. She's enjoying this as well. Occasionally she'll slow her movements and push me high enough to meet her mouth, taking in the tip. She rewards me further by making those sounds, the ones that mean she's close and then my balls hit against her stomach and holy—

"Come on," she encourages through choppy breaths. It's unnecessary because I come all over her chest. Then I jerk again, leaving a trail of jizz on her chin.

"Damn, Bird," I tell her, reaching for my discarded shirt. I gently wipe her face and chest. She's still smiling and I get the feeling she was into that, which only makes her hotter. We both crawl into the bed and wrap our arms around each other. "That was pretty fucking awesome. You know, most the time I just get a gift card of something for my volunteer work."

She laughs and snuggles into my side. I see the tiny birds tattooed on her hips. "Tell me about the birds."

Hollis rolls to her side so I can see her face. I brush a strand of sweaty hair out of her eyes. "I got the first one when I left home and then one for each place I moved after that."

"Imagine if every Army brat did that. We'd have sleeves."

She frowns and runs her hand over my forearm. "Don't even think of covering these beautiful arms."

I kiss her mouth.

"It's more than the location. It's the spirit, I guess." She looks at me with those green eyes. So wide and sincere. "I never want to stop moving—well not yet. I like to keep on the road. Stopping here and there."

I fight back the feeling her words give me. What she's saying shouldn't come as a surprise. I knew she wouldn't be around forever. But now that she's saying it, I know I'm not ready to let her go. Instinctively, I squeeze my arms around her.

"Where will you go next?" I ask.

"I haven't decided yet. I'll figure it out when it's time."

I swallow the lump in my throat. "When will it be time?"

She shrugs, having no idea that this is killing me. "Oh hey, speaking of the future and everything, I have something for you."

She climbs out of bed naked and I admire her body. The two dimples over her ass. The birthmark on her thigh. She removes a piece of paper from her purse and carries it back to bed, pulling the covers over both of us. "I found this online today when I was with Felix at the library."

I take the paper from her and read it. It's a flyer listing the tryouts for the next wave of recruits in two weeks.

"What's this for?"

She huddles close to him and hangs her hand over his shoulder. "Look, it's just in Gwinnett. Barely two hours away."

"I know where it is, Bird. I already told you I'm not doing this." I crumple the paper in a ball and toss it at the trashcan. It makes it in.

"Don't you want to see if you can do it?"

More than anything, I want to tell her. Instead I tense my jaw and fumble around in the dark for my pants. "I should go."

"Now?" she asks. It's probably only around 10 PM and the kids are in bed. No need for me to be home before morning. I know this. She does, too, but I'm still buttoning my pants and looking for my shoes. "Are you pissed because I gave you that?"

"No." I leave my dirty shirt on the floor and slip my arms into my hoodie, zipping up the front.

She gets on her knees and crawls across the bed, the sheet pulled to her chest. She looks beautiful, hair crazy from my hands being in it and it confirms even more that I need to get out of here. Get some air.

"I wasn't trying to push you," she says. "I just know that you are so talented and have so much passion."

"I know," I lie. Every word she says cuts deeper. I don't need a girl like this. One who sees what's out there. Who wants more. One who soars. I need a girl who's happy to just be with me—be the girl of Tucker Jensen and leave it at that. I kiss her forehead and say, "I'll talk to you tomorrow."

I leave through the basement door, going up the stairs and into the night. 
Chapter 6

The next day I've moved past my emo place, but only because I've come to accept some things. Hollis is only here for a short while and I should enjoy every moment I have with her. She's a dreamer and I'm not, and once she's gone all these ideas of playing pro and making it big will go with her. Then I can settle back into my norm.

"That looks pretty gross," I say. Sophie and I are in the dugout. I'm rifling through the First Aid kit looking for some antibiotic cream. She skinned her knee running home.

"I don't want you to put that on there," she says, inching away.

"It won't hurt," I say. "Promise."

"That's what you said when you pulled out my tooth. And that time with the splinter."

I sigh and take off my baseball cap, rubbing my hand over my hair. Sophie. This is the real girl that will be the end of me.

"Here, let me try." I look up and see Hollis. She pushes me aside and starts to tend to Sophie's scrape. My sister stares at this girl with awe on her face as she cleans and coats the wound in the same gunk I just tried to. Damn. Bird must have this effect on everyone.

"Nice work," I tell her after Sophie returns to the field. Adrian has them practicing base steals.

"It's one of my superpowers," she says, bumping her shoulder into mine. She focuses those green eyes on me. "Are we okay?"

I nod. "Yeah, I was just having a moment."

"You have those—moments. I've noticed. But that's okay. We all do."

"At least this time I didn't break anything."

She gives me a questioning look. "Like what?"

"My fist or someone's windshield. Or Adrian's face."

"You didn't."

I laugh. "I wish I hadn't. I've done some stupid stuff in my life."

She places her hand on my cheek and says, "Hopefully you'll outgrow that."

Leaning down, I give her a kiss. I only have so many left and I want to take everyone. When we part I see the entire field is watching us, including Adrian. "Guess everyone saw that," I say.

I kiss her again, claiming her while I can.

*

The kids win the playoffs and take the title in the championship game. I focused on the team, pushing Hollis as far from my mind as I could—depriving myself of sex and her companionship for the week leading up to the game.

Sure, we've had a couple of groping sessions in the storage shed and a quick hand job in her car. Neither made a dent in my growing horniness and by the time the postgame celebration is over I'm about to come out of my skin.

"You go on," my mom says, seeing me watch Hollis. "I'll take the kids."

To her credit, my mother has been around a bit more since we had our last fight. She still wants me to take the job at the high school. The clock is ticking on that offer. I should call by the end of the week to let them know. It just feels so final. Like a jail sentence.

"You sure?" I ask.

"She's very pretty. Everyone has asked me about her. When do we get to meet?"

"Soon," I say, but I'm not interested in family introductions tonight. I'm interested in getting that girl naked and doing dirty things with her. Shit. Just thinking about her...

"Be careful, Tucker," she says. I give her a kiss on the cheek and beat it across the room. Hollis stands near Felix and his family.

"Tucker," Hollis says with a smile. She has on a one of those filmy sundresses I like so much. The ones that make my imagination go wild.

"You about ready?"

"Yeah. Oh," she says. "Have you met John? Felix's dad? My brother?"

I see the man sitting with Felix's mom. He's got a short army cut and a stocky build. I reach my hand out. "Nice to meet you. Felix is my best player."

"Great to see his final game," he says. "And thank you for taking such an interest in him. It means a lot since I haven't been around."

"I understand."

Felix and his mother look happier than I've seen them. John rests his hand on her huge, round belly. They're complete, the four of them, and a sinking feeling fills my stomach.

Hollis' hand slips into mine. "Ready?"

I look into her green eyes and follow her out the door.

*

The instant we're alone, I drag Hollis to the bed. My brain is addled with lust and I won't be happy until I'm inside.

We make quick work of our clothing, ditching shirts and shorts. I pull the white dress over her head and my mouth latches to her breast. "God I missed you. These," I tell her.

"It's barely been a week," she laughs.

"Too long."

She pushes me on my back and before I can blink her ass is in my face. "I missed this too." I run my hands down the smooth skin. I'm hoping to taste her but she scoots forward and straddles over my hips. She glances over her shoulder with a tiny smile and rises up. I see what she's doing and I reach for my cock and rub it along her pussy.

"Inside," she whispers. I follow direction.

I thought I loved her tits. I thought they were my favorite thing about her other than her eyes. But now? This? She begins to fuck me reverse style, bobbing her ass up and down slowly. Methodically. Excruciatingly so.

"Babe," I breathe, watching her shimmy up and down on my cock. She takes me in and then bucks forward until I almost fall out. I can see the tip of my dick barely hanging inside her. I pant like a dog.

Up and down she goes, riding me like a merry go round. Leisurely. Erotic. Just when I think I can't stand it any longer, she increases her pace and I feel the build-up and I grab her ass, ready to blow.

"Not yet," she admonishes, slowing her pace again. I groan in delirious frustration. I want to come but she's taking me to the edge, and Jesus, it's a wonderful thing.

She eases down, deliberately, twisting so that the skin on my cock feels every movement. It's magnificent, euphoric, and I beg her to keep going, to keep doing whatever it is she's doing. Why has she been holding out on me like this?

She rises up again, with the lips of her pussy hanging on the tip of my cock. Teasing me. We're both wet and even if I wanted to, there is no way I'm making it much longer.

"Do it again," I beg.

She makes the slow decline and I run my fingers over the rim of her ass. Just above where my cock is being devoured. She lowers herself down, tossing her hair so it hangs down her back and she grinds against me.

"Fuck," I moan. Sensing my need she pulls up quickly before slamming back down, her ass making its own rhythm, bouncing furiously on my dick. "Fuck," I repeat, because my balls tighten and she keeps the pace until I've released everything into her, most of it sliding back down and settling at the base of my cock.

"Damn girl," I tell her, wiping myself off, trying to catch my breath. "Where did you learn that?"

She laughs and lies across my chest, her tits pushed together. No. They're still my favorite.

"The internet."

I kiss her for such an honest, ridiculous answer and I run my hands over her body. "I'm pretty sure I owe you something in return for that?" I say.

"I'm sure you'll figure out something," she agrees, spreading her legs so I can dip my fingers between them. She's rubbing against me like a cat in heat because even though I got my release, she didn't.

"What do you want?" I ask, feeling like there's no way I can measure up to what just transpired between us. That was the single best orgasm of my life.

"Just fuck me proper," she says. "Slow and hard."

Her request surprises me. It takes me a minute to recover, but not much longer than that. I'm nineteen and resilient, and I spend the time covering her body with my mouth, licking and biting every inch of skin. When we're both ready, I lay her flat on her back and push in, biting her bottom lip. Since I've already come, slowing it down isn't as much of a problem and I'm able to take my time, thrusting in her in slow, easy strokes.

Hollis looks up at me with parted lips, a tiny frown between her eyes. "What?" I ask her. Her nails dig in my back and it spurs me forward.

"I like looking at you," she says in return. Her nails run down my chest, clipping my nipple. I shiver over her. This earns me another smile.

I like looking at her, too. Her eyes and hair. Her parted lips. I love the way her breasts move below me, pulsing with each thrust of my dick. I love her stomach and her tattoos. I love her hands and the way they make me feel.

I love _her_.

I'm too chicken to say it so I cover her mouth with mine as she comes, riding the wave of her orgasm. I feel the aftershocks running through her body and she tightens around me as I come for the second time.

I roll to the mattress and pull her close. She nuzzles my neck and says, "Thank you. That's exactly what I wanted."

Pressing my lips to the top of her head, I close my eyes, exhausted from the day, the game and two rounds of lovemaking. I drift to sleep.
Chapter 7

Kissing her on the cheek, I slip out the door early the next day before Hollis wakes. It's barely light out but I see John in the kitchen window. My father would do the same thing after coming back from tour. His schedule would be off and he'd sleep here and there until his body caught up with the clock.

I duck down until he moves out of sight. Feeling like a douche for sleeping with his sister. But we're both adults and I doubt he hasn't figured out something is up.

At home, everyone is still in bed. I pause at the coffee pot for my mother whose alarm should go off at any moment, but realize she's already set it. Two lunch bags sit on the counter, made the night before, ready for camp. As much as I hate to admit it, my mother seems to have come out of her funk.

Maybe we all have.

I head to my room, kicking off my shoes and pulling off my shirt. I climb into bed and crash, content and finally at ease.

*

I stumble into work the next day around noon.

"Where have you been?" Adrian asks. He's inventorying the equipment now that the season is over. We were supposed to meet here at nine. Yesterday.

"Sorry, I crashed."

"At Hollis'?"

"No," I say. He shoots me a bullshit face. "Seriously. I was there yesterday but her brother is back in town and I'm giving them some time together."

Plus she hadn't called.

But I didn't call her either because something about the other night scared me. The way I felt. Hollis gives herself to you whole-heartedly but at the same time, she isn't yours to take. I know I'm falling too hard. I also know she doesn't feel the same way.

He hands me a stack of papers and we work together quietly. After a while he says, "So how long has that been going on?"

"A while," I say without looking up.

"When I asked her out?"

I shake my head. "No. After—I promise."

Adrian stares at me for a minute until I finally drop my pen and ask, "What?"

"What's she like?" His face is red. As it should be.

"You know I'm not going to tell you."

"Not like specifics," he says. "What's she really like. I never broke through the surface."

I think about Hollis and her tattoos and the way she enjoys sex—so generously, so enthusiastically. The way she took care of Felix. Her wanderlust. She had an energy that I felt like I only had an opportunity to see the faintest glimpse.

"She's amazing," I say. "She's way bigger than me and this town."

"So you think she'll leave?"

I nod and speak around the lump in my throat. "She may already be gone."

*

That afternoon I find Joe sitting on the front step. He looks angry and pissed. I take a deep breath and sit next to him.

"So..." I prompt, folding my arms over my knees.

"Lindsay's gone to camp for the rest of the summer."

"Bummer."

"Yeah."

We sit and watch the cars go by and I want to tell him I know how it feels. I'm about to get up because he doesn't seem like he wants to talk and he says, "We did it before she left."

"It?" I raise an eyebrow. I can't be shocked. He's sixteen. I lost my virginity at the same age. I can't help but rib him a little.

He punches me in the arm. I pretend it hurts. "Yeah. _It_."

"You were safe?"

"Yes. We were both, you know...virgins."

"Contrary to popular legend, virgins can get pregnant."

"Yes. We were safe," he mumbles. "We used a condom. And she's on the pill."

I try to think of something else but nothing comes. "Well...huh."

"What?"

"I'm trying to decide what Dad would say here," I confess.

Joe frowns. "You don't have to take his place, you know."

"I'm not."

"You are—and I get it. You feel like you have to, but it's okay if you're just my older brother. I need that, too," he says. "Especially now."

His words hit me like a blow. He's right. By acting like Dad, I've forgotten how to act like an older brother. I think about it for a minute. "How was it?"

"What?"

I roll my eyes. "The sex. Good? Bad?" I make a face. "Totally bad, right?"

His whole face is red, up to the tip of his ears. "Horrible. Awkward. But..."

"But?"

"Fucking awesome."

We both laugh because sex _is_ awesome but still can be awkward and horrible. I keep him on the step and tell him all the things an older brother _and_ dad should. How to be safe. How to be careful and a girl should be respected—even when that girl doesn't seem to want respect.

"Lindsay made the first move, I swear."

"Sometimes girls do," I tell him. "A lot of the time, but don't tell anyone anything. You know that saying, never kiss and tell? Well it's true. It makes you look like a douchebag. The guy really having sex is the one that never talks about it."

"Really?" he asks.

"Yep. The girls know it, too, and they'll be more willing to take a risk with you if the opportunity arises. Nobody likes a blabber mouth."

"Huh," he says as though I've just explained one of the mysteries of the world. "What do I do now that she's gone? What if she meets someone else at camp?"

"Did you talk about anything before she left?"

"We agreed to write. It's only for a couple of weeks but this other girl, Michelle, she's been calling me," he confesses.

I sigh and settle back on the step. Obviously this talk is going to last a while.
Chapter 8

I'd always thought my final game in Columbus would be just before I left for the majors. I figured it would be my high school game—the state championship. That came and went plus another year and here I am really playing my final game and it's for a men's rec league.

No one else knows I'm leaving, that I'm taking the coaching job in Atlanta, but the stands are full anyway. Crowds of people squeezed together on a warm, muggy Georgia night.

I've realized the family can handle being on their own. In fact, part of me thinks they'd do better if I moved on and stopped taking up so much space. It's only two hours away.

Then there's Hollis.

I don't want to live here without her and I know she's going to bail soon. I can feel it. We haven't talked much since the other night but in her silence I can feel a wall building. I can either let her go, or see if she'll run with me.

I have this plan—a crazy one, where I'm going to ask her to go with me to the city. She's never lived in Atlanta either and maybe we can make a go of it on our own. Even if it's just for a little while—I know in my heart I can't have her longer than that.

We're up seven to four in the seventh inning. We've got two men on base and two outs as I walk to home plate for my turn at bat. I glance up in the stands and see her up there, dark hair pulled away from her face. She gives me a smile and I kick the dirt a little before planting my feet in the red clay.

The pitcher takes aim and throws the ball, high. I wait.

Smack.

The ball hits the catcher's mitt with a slap.

It happens again. The umpire calls both of them balls. The pitcher winds up and I lift my elbows, sinking into the sound of the buzzing crowd. The ball sails out of his fingers and he and I both know it before it reaches the plate.

_Crack_.

My body reacts from the sound—the connection. I drop the bat and run, but I already know it's gone. The hit was perfect, right on the sweet spot. The first base coach waves me past and the crowd cheers my name. I follow the two other guys over home plate.

I swallow back the bittersweet feeling of knowing this may be the last time I make a homerun in my hometown and focus on the win. The guys begin to celebrate--a win is a win even if it's in a rec league, but I'm already searching the stands. I easily find my family. They're sitting with Felix and his father, John. Mom waves and Sophie jumps up and down. Joe checks his phone.

I look for the dark hair. The green eyes. Her perfect red lips.

My eyes comb the crowd seeking a glimpse of her so I can find her and tell her my plans. Instead I make eye contact with John. From the look on his face finally understand.

Like that baseball I just slammed over the fence, she's gone.

*

I'm drowning my third beer at the bar when I feel the strong hand on my shoulder. Another 'congratulations', I'm sure.

"Good game, Tucker." The person sits next to me and orders two more beers. The bartender places one in front of me.

"Thanks," I mutter, glancing over. It's John.

I run both hands over my face and shake my head. I don't know what this is about, but I just spent the summer fucking this guy's sister six ways to Sunday and never before has something like that earned me a beer.

Damn, I must look pathetic.

"So she's gone?" I ask, even though it's not really a question.

He takes a pull on his beer and nods. His eyes are green like hers, and I look away. "The car was packed before we got to the field. I'm sorry, man."

I shake my head like it doesn't matter but we both know it does. I've been leveled by a train I saw coming this whole time. "I knew," I tell him. "I knew she was leaving. I guess..."

"Hollis has a mind of her own, Tucker. She is a complete and total free spirit. I'm surprised she made it this long down here."

I'm not sure if that makes me feel better or worse.

We drink some more and he tells me about this last tour to Iraq. He hopes it's the last for a while with the baby on the way, but he and I both know no one takes babies into consideration. I hope he gets to stay, because Hollis sure as hell isn't coming back to help him.

"You need a ride?" he asks, helping me off the bar stool.

Behind him I see Marcy (?) eyeing me from the bar. "Nah, I'll walk."

He nods and his eyes light up. "Oh, she asked me to give you something."

I drunkenly lean against the bar while he reaches in his pocket. He pulls out a wrinkled but folded piece of paper.

"What's this?"

"I don't know." He offers me his hand and we shake. "Good luck, Tucker." He disappears into the crowd at the bar.

I wait until I'm outside to open the flyer. Marcy brushes past me and unlocks the car door, waiting for me to get inside. It's dark and I'm wasted and the words on the paper blur in front of me.

"Dammit Bird," I curse into the humid night, crushing it in my palm like I had the first time.

*

"Be polite," my mother says. She straightens my tie for the third time and I push her hand away searching for more coffee. It's freaking early.

"I will."

"And make sure you tell him about how you coached summer camp two years in a row."

"Mom, I already have the job. Going up there is just a formality."

She sighs and pushes my hair back with her hand. "You can never be too prepared."

I walk out to the car and put my duffle bag in the back seat. My meeting starts at ten, but with traffic it may take close to three hours to get there. I'm about to hop in the car when I see Sophie wander out the front door rubbing her eyes.

"Hey girl," I say, lowering myself so we're face to face. "I'll see you tonight, okay?"

"Where are you going?"

"To a meeting."

"Do they play baseball this early?"

"No, and it's not that kind of meeting. Well, not really. I'm going to a job interview to be a coach."

"Where."

"Atlanta."

"Can we come to your games?"

I pull her frayed pigtail. "Of course."

"Okay," she says kissing my forehead. "I'm going back to bed."

"Good plan," I laugh. She shuffles back to the house. Mom appears in the doorway once she's gone in.

"So everyone seems okay with me leaving."

"Everyone wants you to be happy."

_Everyone_ , I think, feeling the wrinkled paper in my pocket.

I kiss her on the cheek and run to the garage. I grab my favorite bat leaning against the wall.

"Just in case," I tell her, throwing it in the back. I climb in the jeep and drive to Atlanta.

*

The parking lot is about half-full when I get to the stadium. Flying into a parking space, I jerk the jeep to a stop. I check the time.

"Shit."

It's 9:45 and I've barely got time to change, sign in and warm up. I follow the signs through the stadium, and duck into the restroom. After changing, I line up behind the other guys.

I'm last.

An older man sits behind the table with a Braves cap on and stack of waivers and paperwork piled in front of him. He hands me mine without looking up and asks, "Name?"

"Jensen," I say. "Tucker Jensen."

He glances up. "What did you say?"

"Tucker Jensen."

"From Columbus?"

"Yes, sir."

"Hurry up," he says in a gruff voice. He hands me a numbered sticker to put on my shirt. "You're late."

"Yes, sir," I repeat. I slap the sticker to my chest and sling my bag over my shoulder I run to the field to join the other players. On the field, I look around the stadium. It's only five years old and reminds me of Glory Park, but shiny.

My phone beeps in my bag and I reach to turn it off. The number is local—from Atlanta, and I know it's the high school looking for me. I know what it means by ditching that meeting. I've lost the job.

No job. No girl.

I look out at the emerald green grass of the outfield.

All I've got left is this.

"Thirty-six!" they call and I grab my glove.

I'm up.
Chapter 9

I slide my bat into the rack and bump fists with the other guys in the dugout.

"Nice hit."

"Thanks," I say, reaching for a bottle of water and drinking half of it.

"Jensen." Coach Dismuke calls me over.

"Yeah?"

"You dropped your elbow; make sure you keep it up. That would have been a home run."

"Got it."

He claps me on the back and I move to sit with the rest of the guys. We're on game twenty-eight out of one-forty-four. So far it's been the best nine months of my life.

We win the game 4-2 with two bases scored from my hits. I'm holding my own out here and even though the road can get lonely, I'm not one to be short on company, even if it's temporary.

"Looks like your fan club's here," Marcus says, pointing across the bar. We have tomorrow off and the coach gives us time to blow some steam while we're in Durham. Normally we'd be back on the bus by now.

"Oh yeah?" I ask, mildly interested.

"You want to head over?"

Marcus likes to be my wingman, picking up the girls that don't make my cut. I've gotten pickier since last summer. No green eyes. No filmy sundresses. There's a type that follow athletes. They know what they're getting into and so do I.

"Sure," I swallow the rest of my beer and leave the bottle on the bar.

The bar is filled with coeds, which makes it easier because they travel in packs. Marcus walks up to a group of girls standing at a tall table and whispers to me, "Maybe I can get a threesome going."

"Good luck with that," I laugh. Dirty bastard.

I smile at a blonde with brilliant blue eyes and a black halter top. Perfect.

"Hi," she says, raising some sort of fruity drink to her mouth. I wonder what it tastes like on her lips.

"I'm Tucker—" I stop when I feel a cool hand on my arm. I turn and slump back.

Bird.

The rest of the room falls away and I stare at her, beautiful as ever.

"Hey Tucker," she says, a tiny, guilty smile on her lips.

I swallow. "What are you doing here?"

"I've been hanging around up here for a while," she says. She reaches out for an awkward hug and I force myself not to sink into the embrace. "Visiting some friends. John sent me your schedule and I came out to see you."

"You saw the game?"

"Yeah." She smiles again. "You were great. I'm so proud of you."

I'm proud of myself, too, and I know I have her to thank, but she broke my heart into a million pieces and well, ouch.

"Can we talk?" she asks.

"Sure," I say. Marcus looks at me questioningly but I nod to let him know it's okay.

We slide into a booth and she sits next to me so we can hear each other over the loud music. She smells like shampoo and flowers and she's got on a yellow tank top with tiny straps. I can tell she doesn't have a bra on and that alone makes my heart stutter. There's no way my body won't respond to her physically, just looking at her makes me think of sex.

"So you tried out and made the team?"

"Yep. I got your message from John. I decided what the hell, you know? There was nothing left for me in Columbus and I didn't want that coaching job."

Her smile wavers when I make the jab about Columbus. "I'm sorry if I hurt you," she says.

"If?" I laugh. "Girl, you were my world. Don't pretend otherwise."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I wanted you to be something you aren't. You can't settle down and turns out I couldn't either. We should just be happy we had that time together, right?"

It hurts to say that out loud because I want to make her feel badly, the way I did for months after she left. But she'd never been anything but honest with me and I knew she was wild. All I could offer her was sex and she could get that anywhere. I was a nineteen-year-old kid in a dead-end town with no plans for the future.

I would run, too.

I did run.

"So what have you been doing?" I ask, wanting the focus off myself.

"Traveling. Visiting friends," she says. "Most of them are married now. Having babies and stuff or work big time jobs."

"Growing up," I laugh. "It sucks."

"I've been running for so long, Tucker. Since I was sixteen. I don't know how much longer I can do it."

Her eyes shine emerald green with tears. I don't like seeing her sad and my hostility slips away. Scooting closer, I wrap my arm around her shoulders. "What's going on?"

She looks around the bar. "Can we get out of here?"

"Yeah, sure."

We head out into the spring night. It's warm enough but not too hot yet. We walk down the sidewalk in front of restaurants and shops. "So what's this about?" I ask. Hollis unnerved is something I'm not accustomed to.

"I think I made a mistake leaving you last summer."

I stop cold on the sidewalk. "You're kidding, right?"

"No."

I close my eyes and steady myself, like I've just been hit in the gut. "Bird, Columbus was not what you wanted. It wasn't what I wanted either."

"I know, but you're what I wanted—want."

I give her a hard look and shake my head. "Don't say things like that."

"Like what? The truth?"

"Things that can't happen."

"Why not?"

I'm not even sure who this girl is in front of me. She's beautiful—maybe more so than before. Sexy-always sexy. But something in those eyes seems lost and she's looking to me to help her. I'm not sure I can.

"Bird, I'm on the road a hundred days a year. I live in a shitty apartment with three other ball players and sleep in a bus half the time. I'm living my dream and I think there's a solid chance I'll get called up in the next year or so. And you," I pause and cup her face with my hands. "Are not going to be tamed. I know you think you want that but I don't know, you'll have to figure that out."

"Will you help me?"

"Figure it out?" I look up at the sky. "How, baby?"

"You grounded me more than you'll ever know, Tucker. And I know you're right, I don't want to take any of that away from you, but do you think we can figure out a way to stay close?"

"Close?" I search her eyes for the meaning of that word.

"Friends?" she suggests. She looks to her feet. "Lovers?"

"So basically you want me for my body."

Her hands find the hem of my shirt. "Do you have a problem with that?"

"Um..."

She pulls me down by my shirt and kisses me and it's like I can breathe for the first time in a year. I wrap my arms around her and pick her up. "My hotel is across the street," I say.

"Too far," she says and I let her drag me down a dark, narrow alley beside between the buildings.

We step over broken beer bottles and I stop midway down, where it's almost dark, and kiss her again. This time I run my hands over the soft cotton of her shirt, feeling her nipples harden under my touch.

Perfect.

With eager eyes and fingers she tugs at my pants, impatient. I've never seen her like this and it's a turn on. Normally she's composed and holding all the cards. Not now. I reach under her skit and find her ready and slick.

"I missed you."

I lift her with my arms and press against her with my chest, angling my cock below. We fumble awkwardly in the dark and I slip against her and we both laugh. "See what you've been missing?" I tease, lining myself up again and sliding in easily this time.

Ahhh.

"You'd think those muscles would give you an advantage."

I raise an eyebrow and push her against the wall with my cock. She takes my face in her hands and kisses me, moaning in my mouth with each thrust. God it's been too long. She feels so good and tastes just right. Our bodies only take a moment to acclimate to one another and then it's like we've never stopped.

Except for the fact I'm about to come in less than two minutes, like a fucking kid, because she's so goddam beautiful. Gritting my teeth, I bury my dick into her as far as it will go. I reach my hand between us to help her along, but it's unnecessary because I hear her breathy pants, and she scrunches her eyes closed tight.

Her body relaxes and I jerk into her, feeling lighter than I have in months. I lower her to the ground, pushing her skirt smooth. I tuck myself back in my pants, stopping to kiss her because really, who knows when I'll see her again.

"You do that the best," she says, brushing my hair out of my eyes.

"It's one of my superpowers," I declare.

"Obviously."

We're standing in a dark alley in Durham, North Carolina and I feel like two worlds have just smashed into one another. I have no idea where we go next.

"How's this going to work?" I ask, linking my fingers with hers.

She shakes her head but looks hopeful. "We'll figure it out."

We slip out of the alley, heads close. I'm not ready to give her up yet but I've got a bus to be on in the morning. There's no way this will work, I think, except I've got her hand in mine and she's kissing my neck and I realize there's really no other option than to make it.
Chapter 10

I pull my Jeep into the driveway and hop out. I pass the main house and wave to Mrs. Blackmon on her back deck watering flowers.

"How was the game?" she asks.

I smile and pump a fist. "We won."

"Congratulations! Your first playoffs then?" Mrs. Blackmon is seventy-five and loves the Braves and Chipper Jones. Good thing he retired. I'm ready to replace him for the team and in Mrs. Blackmon's heart.

"Next week."

When she found out Hollis was dating a baseball player she dropped the deposit on the carriage house. They watch the games together and I have my first fan club member. Who cares if she's old enough to be my grandmother.

I wave and climb the back steps over the garage. The windows are open and I can smell something delicious wafting through the windows.

"Hey, babe," I say hanging my bag next to the door. She's standing in the kitchen in those short cut-offs and a white wife beater. Damn.

Next week is going to suck.

"Hey, you guys won! I heard the game online."

I give her a kiss and suck the spaghetti sauce off her lips. This domestic thing between us is new. Super new, but so far, so good.

"I'm going to shower," I tell her, squeezing her ass. "Then we can eat."

"Sounds good."

I turn on the water in the small bathroom and strip. Hollis has lived here for about two months. She found a job and an apartment in the city and when I'm in town I stay with her. When I'm on the road, she's learning to settle into a more conservative life. Job, bills...stability.

We're both close enough to see the family when we need to, and Mom brings the kids up to my games every couple of weeks. Joe's got a new girlfriend—this one goes to church and has a no sex policy. I can't help but think this may be a good thing. Learning a little patience is something someone should have taught me a long time ago.

I lather the shampoo in my hair and rinse it out. When I open my eyes I see Hollis peering around the curtain.

"What are you doing?" I laugh.

"Watching you."

I raise an eyebrow. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah."

She pushes back the curtain and I yank her inside. The water soaks through the white tank and she may as well be naked.

"Hot," I tell her and I reach for her body, dragging her closer.

"Ack," she yelps. "It's freezing."

"I'll warm you up." She ignores me and twists the levers making the water close to scalding. I don't care. I've got her ass in my hands and her tits pressed into my chest and my dick bangs into her stomach like a drum.

"This is awesome," I tell her kissing her while she grabs the soap.

"Isn't it?"

She soaps up my chest, taking her time to work her way down each muscle, until she slides her hand over my cock. She says, "I'm glad we finally figured this out, you know."

I smile into her mouth and cup her breasts while the water pours over our heads. "Me, too." I never thought I'd tame her. I never thought I'd be tamed. Honestly, both of us are still wild at heart but we've chosen, for now, to stick together. Even the wildest animals need a partner.
About the Author

Roxy Queen lives in the south with her family, two dogs and a semi-feral cat. She spent many of her years working as a babysitter and nanny. Most of her summers have included lounging by the pool, giggling with her girlfriends and making up stories about the lifeguards, even when she was a kid.

You can follow Roxy on Twitter @roxyqueenbooks and Goodreads

Also by Roxy Queen

Taboo

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