Over the Fence: Lyssa Layne's Baseball Romances Page 2

  “Double.”

  “Double, that’s what I meant.” he says, handing me the left cup instead. I take it hesitantly, feeling the warmth of the coffee seep into my hands through the cheap cardboard cup. He squeezes past me, stepping into my apartment.

  I notice him checking out my place as I close the door behind him. I’m too busy enjoying the velvety latte at the moment to ask why he’s here instead of meeting me at the gym like normal.

  A few sips later and the caffeine kicks in. I see Grant standing by the fire escape. I tear myself away from the only thing motivating me to keep moving, raising a questioning eyebrow.

  He points out the window. “Is this thing up to code?”

  I shrug. “Who knows?”

  I sit down to put on my running shoes.

  “Colie!” he says, exasperated.

  “What?” I glance up at him.

  “You live on the tenth floor. You need a fire escape that works.” He points to a dangling light fixture. “How long has that been broken?”

  This isn’t the first time Grant’s been to my place. My apartment is definitely much smaller and more out-of-date than his house on the other side of town. I find it to be cozy and vintage, which my older sister Meg says is another way of saying tiny and old. Grant is never insulting when he comes over, but he always questions the safety of my building. I’ll admit it’s a little worn down, but I’m hardly ever home, so what’s it really matter? Grant’s interest always makes me wonder whether he could have been a building inspector if the whole baseball thing hadn’t worked out for him.

  I tie my shoe and put my foot on the ground, and then stand up, taking another sip of caffeine as I shrug again.

  “A couple months?”

  “That could be a fire hazard and you don’t even have a safe escape route!”

  “Okay, okay, I get it!” I say, holding up my hands in mock-surrender. “I’ll call my landlord again. He’ll get around to it eventually.”

  He shakes his head. “No, I’ll call a friend of mine at City Hall and have the whole building inspected.”

  Grant is always like this. He thinks he’s my protector, always having to take care of me. In my professional opinion, he needs to get laid as much as I do. Well, I assume he does. We may be close friends, but we’ve never actually discussed our personal relationships. I know he’s divorced, but that’s about it.

  I roll my eyes. “Seriously, Grant? You’re overreacting… again.”

  His eyes narrow into a glare that could easily shut someone up. Well, someone other than me. I return the look and mutter, “Well, you are… ”

  “Colie, I never overreact. I just want to make sure you’re safe.”

  I ignore his comment. “What are you doing here instead of meeting me at the gym?”

  “There’s photographers outside the gym. I thought we could go around the corner to Tank’s Training Facility… Why are you laughing?”

  “You sure you aren’t overreacting?” I tease.

  His eyes crinkle as a small smile toys with his lips, and then he shakes his head. He walks toward me and takes the lifeline of espresso out of my hand. He raises that sexy eyebrow with the scar. “Guess you don’t need this?”

  I grumble as I follow him out the door. Grant knows me too well. Coffee is my drug of choice. I smile at his back, thinking about his provocative actions. Too bad I don’t date baseball players or both our problems would be solved.

  CHAPTER 2

  Sweat trickles down my forehead and into my eyes. That, mixed with the smell of chlorine, and my eyes are burning. I glance over at Grant, who is running on the treadmill beside me. His own body glistens with sweat as well. It’s early February and this gym has the heat on full blast.

  Leaning over, I increase the speed on his machine. He glances at the dashboard and nods as he picks up the pace. I run a little faster myself, trying to finish my five miles in under forty minutes. Katy Perry’s Roar is playing over the speakers of the tiny gym, but I’m focused on watching the mileage click away until it finally hits five. I slow my speed to cool down, noticing that Grant still has a half a mile to go.

  At the far side of the gym, I see a few lanky blondes rocking the thin waist and big breasts. They’re quite the opposite of my shorter stature. I nod in their direction and ask Grant, “Are they your type?”

  Grant shifts his eyes to look at me. “My type?”

  I roll my eyes. “Your type, like, would you date either of them, or do you like brunettes?”

  He quickly slams the console, shutting the machine off.

  “Hey!” I exclaim, “You need to cool down!”

  Grant points to a meathead guy grunting as he tries to bench press more than his body weight.

  “He your type, Colie?”

  I laugh and head to the track for us to walk a few laps so Grant can cool down. Side by side, I’m sure we look like Mutt and Jeff.

  “Why are you so defensive? It’s not like I asked who you’re sleeping with.”

  Grant narrows his eyes and I roll mine again. He’s so serious sometimes. I stop to take a drink from the water fountain, but Grant keeps walking. When I look up, I see the desk attendant has cornered him, blatantly flirting. If Grant hates anything more than my prying, it’s this. I lean against the wall, enjoying the scene. Grant shifts uncomfortably, trying to find an excuse to get away as the brunette touches his bicep. I let the charade last a little longer before I walk over to save him and catch the tail end of her question.

  “…yoga with your girlfriend?”

  She bats her eyelashes at Grant and I want so badly to roll my eyes, but I refrain. It’s obvious she has no idea who he is other than a gorgeous body with a killer smile. I slide my arm around his waist and he looks down at me, trying to hide his surprise. He quickly pulls me close to him. It’s not the first time I’ve played the role of his girlfriend. For that matter, I think I’ve “dated” almost every guy on the roster. Well, except for the playboys who don’t mind the attention.

  I read her nametag. “Yes, Kari. I think we will try out yoga today.”

  Grant’s eyes go wide. “We will?”

  I laugh as Kari shows us to the yoga studio. I grab us each a mat and explain, “It’ll take the place of our stretching. It’s good to try something new.”

  Grant grumbles but sits down on his mat. I’m about to do the same when I notice everyone is sitting two to a mat. I look at the board on the wall and see the class title “Couples Yoga for Lovers.” Crap. Grant’s going to be pissed.

  I lower myself to his mat and he gives me a puzzled look. Luckily, the instructor walks in so I don’t have to explain anything… yet. She asks us all to stand and we go through a series of stretching and meditation exercises to help us get centered.

  Grant whispers to me, “I guess this isn’t so bad, it’s a lot like the stretching we normally do.”

  “Mmhmm” is all I can manage in response.

  “Okay, yogis, we’re now ready to begin. Our first pose will be Got Your Back. Have a seat, back to back with your partner.”

  I don’t make eye contact with him as I quickly move to sit down. His broad back leans against me and I close my eyes, resting against him. Hopefully this is a beginners’ class.

  “Now cross your legs and link your fingers with your partner’s fingers. Let your heads rest against each other.”

  I’m almost a whole head shorter than Grant, so mine rests between his shoulder blades. Surprisingly, his muscular back is warm and inviting. He turns his head and looks down at me.

  “Is this normal?”

  I stifle a giggle by biting my lip and give a quick nod.

  The teacher continues, “Now take a full breath and extend your arms overhead, letting them fall back to earth.”

  We follow her instructions and I begin to relax. This isn’t so bad. We twist opposite of each other, our hands resting on the other’s thighs. Our heads still close together, I whisper, “She’s cute. You could ask her out.”<
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  I feel him tense up against me so I give his thigh a gentle squeeze. “Lighten up, buttercup.”

  He pinches my leg in return. “Drop it.”

  With my back to him, I roll my eyes since I know he can’t see it. I don’t know what his deal is. Either his ex-wife really did a number on him or he must be gay. I’m beginning to think the latter.

  The class is almost over and thankfully it hasn’t been very intimate. It almost seems like our regular stretching routine, except someone is doing my job for me.

  “Okay, lovers, our last pose for today will be Rock with You. Ladies, take a seat between your man’s legs and rest your spine against his torso. Men, wrap your arms around your ladies and focus on your breathing for a minute.”

  I look around at the other couples in the class and see how close they are. My heart racing, I start to stand up, muttering, “We can go.”

  Grant grabs my hand and jerks me down, pulling me between his legs. “Not so fast, lover, class isn’t over.”

  He wraps his arms around me tightly and nuzzles his chin against my neck. I feel his warm breath tickling my skin as he whispers, “I’m not an idiot, Colie. I knew what kind of class this is. I only wondered when you’d chicken out.”

  Tingles shoot through my body, similar to the feeling I get in my dreams when Jace kisses me. I close my eyes and picture Jace’s arms around me. I take a deep breath and exhale as the instructor gives the next set of directions.

  “Ladies, grab those manly thighs of your men and men grasp behind your lady’s knees. Lift your hips and pull you both back, feet leaving the Earth.”

  His large hands slide behind my knees and with a firm grasp, he rolls us back, my feet high in the air. My core tightens and my breathing quickens at his touch. I’m not sure if I’m imagining it, but I think I can feel Grant’s heart beating quickly against my back. We hold the position for thirty seconds, then roll up to sit. His legs wrap over mine as we both fall forward. Grant’s large body rests on top of me as we bend and lie on top of our mat. I close my eyes and inhale, taking in his fresh scent of soap and a hint of spearmint on his breath.

  “Now men, massage your ladies shoulders deeply, releasing any tension in their arms.”

  Grant’s strong hands delicately knead my shoulders and move back and forth. I know his hands are slightly calloused, since I’ve touched them so many times, yet he gracefully works out the tension in my shoulders. I’ve seen him handle a baseball more times than I can count and now I know what it felt like to be that ball in his hand. Lucky ball.

  The head yogi instructs, “Guide your ladies back to the sitting position.”

  But Grant doesn’t right away, he keeps working his hands on my back until a moan slips out of my mouth. I feel him smile against my blushing cheek as he pulls us upright. A few more breathing exercises and the instructor wraps up class. I start to get up but Grant holds me tightly.

  He whispers into my ear, the hair rising on my neck, “You need to be careful when you play with the big boys, Colie.”

  I turn to look at him with a laugh when the instructor walks beside us. She smiles as she says, “I must comment on how well you two work together. You must have a wonderful relationship to be so in sync.”

  Grant nods for us and thanks her. The teacher leaves us alone in the room. I turn around and playfully hit him as I break into a fit of giggles. Grant exaggerates the impact of my punch and laughs along with me. Grant Adamson? He’s the last baseball player I would date. Jace Richards… well, that’s another story.

  CHAPTER 3

  “You what?!” My older sister, Meg exclaims, choking on her margarita and spitting out a bit of the sticky, sweet liquid.

  I laugh, tossing her a napkin. “I went to a yoga class for lovers with Grant.”

  She wipes her mouth and laughs with me.

  “God, I would’ve loved to see that… or happily taken your place,” she says with a wink.

  “Meg! You’re engaged! Besides, it’s just Grant.” I take a long drink of my margarita, trying to convince myself that it’s just Grant. He’s like a big brother, right?

  “Mark won’t mind. I mean, it’s Grant Adamson! Mark is a huge fan of his, you know that. Not to mention the man is hot!” She takes a sip of her drink and raises an eyebrow at me before continuing, “And it seems like he might have the hots for you…”

  Now I choke on the mouthful I’m trying to swallow. “You’re insane. Grant is way older than me and totally not interested. In fact, I’m not sure he’s interested in much besides baseball.”

  Megan is less than a year older than me, we’re Irish twins and we look nothing alike. While I’m a petite athletic, blonde, Meg is a long-legged brunette with a stick figure. Neither of us was blessed in the chest department. She’s my absolute best friend, Grant being a close second, and we have no secrets, which is both good and bad.

  “Seriously, Colie? Grant is thirty-four and you’re twenty-five, it’s not that much older. I don’t know him as well as you do but I think he might have a thing for you. Besides, you will need a date for my wedding in August.”

  I feel my cheeks warming up and I’m not sure if it’s from the alcohol or her comment. Grant is incredibly good-looking but there’s no way he could be interested in me. Not that I know his type, but I assume I’m not it. Besides, her wedding is right in the middle of baseball season. Meg is a good sister though and scheduled it on a day the Aces don’t have a game. I’m sure I could get Grant to go with me if I wanted, but I wasn’t going to ask anyone. I’m the maid of honor so I’ll be too busy to worry about entertaining anyone I bring along. Meg breaks my train of thought when she speaks again.

  “It’s Jace, isn’t it? Don’t tell me you’re still having dreams about him.”

  I pour us both another glass, finishing off the pitcher then shrug as I respond, “I can’t help it, Meg. Every night, he’s the star of my dreams. I know, it’s ridiculous! It was a long time ago and he’s with a different woman every week according to the tabloids.”

  Meg runs her finger around the top of her mug, paying careful attention to her drink before looking up at me. “Colie, you need to call him. Get some closure. Who knows, maybe you’ll run into him at spring training?”

  I take a long gulp of my drink at the mention of the event I don’t yet know if I’ll be attending.

  Meg frowns. “You haven’t heard?”

  I blink back tears as I shake my head.

  My sister places her hand on top of mine. “Oh, Colie, I’m sorry! There’s still time, you never know. They could still ask you to go to spring training with the team.”

  I wipe my eyes and sigh. “I keep telling myself that, but pitchers and catchers leave on Friday. I think I’ve proven myself to them. Look at Grant’s ERA after I started working with him!” I say, fighting the ugly cry that I know wants to come out.

  Meg nods and says in all sincerity, “I don’t know what the hell an ERA is but if you say you fixed it, then by God you did! They’ll ask you to go to spring training, you’ll prove you’re the best, and then they’ll offer you the assistant trainer job. I believe in you, little sister.”

  I laugh and wipe at a tear that’s trying to escape. My sister not only looks totally different from me, but she and I have completely different interests too. I was born playing sports while she is a complete and total book nerd.

  Softball, basketball, soccer… You name it, I played it, although soccer was my primary sport. That’s how I met Jace. I was playing at Loyola Marymount University in Los Angeles while Jace was the all-star baseball pitcher. We both grew up in the area, so we spent our summers conditioning together until he decided to leave school without even saying goodbye.

  Before Meg and I can continue our conversation, our waiter approaches the table. He frowns as he takes us both in. “Señoritas, we don’t allow sad faces here. Instead… we drink tequila!” he exclaims, as he plops a sombrero on each of our heads and sets two shots in front of us.

&n
bsp; My sister and I laugh as we clink our glasses. With the first shot, I feel the liquid burning down my throat, but by the third one, it slides down with no problem at all.

  ***

  It’s only ten, but after two pitchers of margaritas and four, maybe five shots of tequila, Meg and I decide we’d better call it a night. I stumble out of the cab, giggling to myself. We had some intense girl talk about Jace, Mark, and even Grant once the tequila started flowing.

  I pull on the door to my building but it doesn’t open. I fumble through my purse looking for my keys. I jiggle the lock but it still won’t budge. I’m about to ring my neighbor when Maddox, the middle-aged homeless man who lives outside our building, says in a chipper voice, “Read the sign, Colie!”

  Maddox and I are on a first name basis since I bring him home leftovers from the ballpark during the season. I squint in the dark, reading the sign in the glow of the streetlight. It reads CONDEMNED. I stomp my foot and let out a frustrated scream.

  Maddox laughs and pats the blanket beside him. “I’ve got room for you here, Colie.”

  I narrow my eyes at him as I punch a number into my phone. It only rings once when a low, husky voice answers. I can tell that I’ve woken him but in this moment, I don’t care.

  “Grant, my building is condemned because of you!”

  “Colie, have you been drinking?” he says and I can hear rustling in the background. Great, I probably interrupted him and some mystery woman.

  “You called your friend and now I can’t get in my building. I’m going to have to share Maddox’s blanket and sleep with him on the sidewalk tonight!”

  Maddox’s eyes light up at the mention of his name.

  I hear Grant curse under his breath before he answers. “I’m on my way, Colie. Go to the diner across the street and don’t share anything with Maddox.”

  He hangs up with me before I can object. A cool gust of wind blows down the street. I glance over at Maddox, who smiles deviously and wiggles his eyebrows. I sigh and nod toward the diner. “Have you had dinner?”