Page 27 of Force Play

“Are you guys going to come out to Draft with us after the game?” Delilah asks, interrupting my thoughts.

I hadn’t planned on it, but when I glance over at Brianna, her face is lit up at the idea. “Sure, we can come out for a little while.” Honestly, I was hoping we’d have more time together to figure out if we can make this work long-distance, but she’s already flying home tomorrow.

There’s a lull in the conversation as Dom steps up to the plate, his smile never wavering as he gets in his stance. Where the rest of the guys look serious, number four always looks like he’s having the time of his life out there.

Christian Damiano, the pitcher for the Boston Revs, shakes off the sign twice before he gets a signal he likes. The ball is screaming right over the center of the plate and Dom must like what he sees because he swings. The connection cracks through the stadium and sends it right down the first base line, burying it in no-man’s-land by the foul pole.

“Holy shit, he’s fast.” My eyes track Dom as he rounds first before the Rev’s even have their hands on the ball. Kyle Bosco makes the throw to the cutoff and by the time the ball is on its way to Emerson Knight, Dom is sliding into third, somehow managing to get under the throw.

“What the hell are those two cackling about?” Mia gestures toward third base where Emerson and Dom are hunched over laughing.

“Knowing Dom, he’s probably challenging him to race after the game,” Poppy says.

“More like telling him about his lucky thong,” I comment off-handedly. Four sets of eyes swing toward me. Shit. Shit Shit.

If he finds out I said that he will never let me live it down. Our hookup from last summer is the worst kept secret, and up until now, I’ve never admitted to anyone here but Brianna.

“A thong, huh?” Brianna comments tilting her head and squinting her eyes like she might be able to see it through his pants from here.

“Where is the popcorn guy? I need a bucket to bury my face in.” Thankfully, Xavier steps up to the plate providing a distraction.

The rest of the game is uneventful, meaning I manage not to make a fool of myself and the girls have enough tact not to dig for more dirt in front of my girlfriend.

By the time Brianna and I make the short walk to Draft, I need a cold beer and some space from both Brianna and Dom, who have waged some sort of silent war for my attention. She’s always finding a reason to touch me, and Dom is just being Dom.

There is no way he needed to stretch that much before the top of the ninth. That’s not how muscles work. They were plenty limber. He just wanted to make sure I was looking at his ass. Which I wasn’t. Not at all.

My hand is linked through Bri’s as she leads me through the building and out the back where there is a private courtyard that the guys rented for the evening.

“You look like you could use this,” Brianna says, when she returns from grabbing drinks to find me alone at the table. Coming up behind me she rolls the bottle over my heated skin, dragging it over the pulse point in my neck making my nipples pucker under my thin tank.

“Oh god,” I moan quietly, covering my hand with hers and holding the bottle in place. “That feels heavenly.”

My eyes drift shut when her hand lands on the opposite shoulder, curling over it possessively. Seeing this side of her makes me glad I didn’t cut and run the second I decided to move, even if things have been a bit off for the last two weeks. This teasing side she’s letting me see more of is addicting as hell. I wish I had gotten to explore it before I moved.

“Fuck me.” The rough curse from across the patio scraps across my skin. Hearing Dom’s deep voice while Brianna’s soft hands are on me has my blood pumping hot through my veins.

For weeks, months even, that gravelly voice haunted me every time I tried to erase the memory of the way he owned my body. But the way he said my name never faded, as much as I wished it would.

An amused chuckle vibrates against my ear. “You messed him up.”

“Hardly. He’s unflappable. Nothing bothers him and certainly not that he doesn’t get to have me again. Fuckboy 101, thou shall not sleep with the same girl more than once,” I say as he turns and disappears back into the bar, revealing the rest of the guys.

Hendrix has his arm looped over Poppy’s shoulder. Cruz has his wife’s hand clasped tightly in his own. And Dean drops a kiss on Mia’s head before glancing over his shoulder at where Dom went.

“Indie,” Dean greets, dropping onto the bench across from me. “Did you two break him already?” he asks, pulling his girlfriend down next to him.

“Ignore him,” Mia says, swatting at his arm.

“He’s fun to mess with,” Brianna says, taking the seat beside me.

“You’re evil.” I lift a strand of red hair. “Where do you hide the horns? I know for a fact there’s no forked tail back there.”

Dom chooses that moment to come back, setting two pitchers of beer down in the middle of the table, making them splash with how quickly he moves. Without a word, he takes the seat at the furthest end of the picnic table, and Xavier lowers himself to the seat across from Dom, his hands raking through his hair and his eyes never leaving his phone.

“How’d you and Indie meet?” My spine straightens when the question comes from the end of the table. Dom’s eyes settle on my girlfriend.

“I’d like to formally take credit for that,” Mia answers from where she’s encased in Dean’s grip, the two of them leaning against the high-top table next to us.

---