Page 19 of Passing the Red Line
Now, I just have to hope that the asshole doesn’t retaliate in some way. I’ll find another beach to spend any down time I may have these next few weeks, but once the season starts and he finds out we are working for the same team, all hell could break loose.
I just have to hope that he keeps the ass biting to himself.
I don’t need a lecture from my dad about how I can’t go around biting his players in the ass.
That would be absolutely mortifying.
CHAPTERFIVE
Christian
I’m not goingto lie.
I’m a little disappointed that I haven’t seen the pain in my ass, bikini wearing intruder in a whole week.
Whenever I went down to the beach for a run, I looked for her, waiting to find her at the bottom of my stairs just like before but every day I went down, and she wasn’t there.
After four or five days, I concluded that she had finally backed down after the whole almost throwing her in the water thing and I was never going to see her again.
Which works out for me. I don’t need our little game getting out of hand and actually calling the cops because one of us crossed an unspoken line.
I do miss sparring with her, though, and if I knew her name, I might have looked her up and possibly continued it just to pass the time a little faster. But I don’t know her name, and I see that as a good thing because it saves me from the inevitable headache she would produce.
I see it as a good thing, my body and mind on the other hand don’t. Apparently, my brain thinks it's appropriate to think about the woman when I least expect it.
These last few days have been filled with thoughts of the strange woman that made my blood boil. Thoughts of her soft skin, Thoughts of my hands on her ass and taking a bite just like she took one off me. Visuals of her in nothing but that sting bikini of hers all wet and ready for me to explore. Scenarios where her spitfire got me so damn sexually frustrated that the only way I can have her stop talking is by having her drop to her knees and take me in her mouth.
Too many things came to mind. Things that I shouldn’t be thinking about whatsoever, but I did and to say I didn’t have blue balls the whole week because of it would be an understatement.
But I’m putting my spitfire intruder behind me. Thinking about her isn’t going to make her materialize out of thin air, so it's best not to think about her.
Besides, one less annoying pain in the ass to deal with. Now that she’s gone, I get to enjoy my alone time and concentrate on getting my body and mind ready for the next season.
I will start doing that tomorrow.
Right now, though, all I want to do is grab a drink with some friends.
Every year when I come home for the off season, I try to hang out with some of my friends from high school at least once or twice. We all took different paths in life and have busy schedules, but we at least try to get together to grab a drink and catch up.
We’re not as close as we were when we were teenagers but we’re okay with that. We’re still there for each other when need be and that’s all that matters.
I pull up to the bar in downtown San Jose, a few blocks away from the arena hockey fans call the Shark Tank, and walk over to the bar that my buddy texted me earlier in the day.
As soon as I walk in, I don’t feel as overwhelmed walking into a bar like I usually do. It might have something to do with the fact the place isn’t as packed as I thought it would be for a Friday night.
I was mentally preparing myself to deal with drunk people all night as they danced around the small space. But from the looks of things, this place is a dive bar that sells pizza with a few pool tables and a place for people to hang out in the back. Not a place I would picture in a downtown area, but it works.
And there’s no cover charge, which is better for my wallet.
“Here I thought that I was going to have to drag you out of your fortress on the beach,” A familiar voice sounds through on my left and when I turn in the direction of it, I do something that I rarely do when I’m in public. Smile.
“If I remember correctly, I did offer up the house to do this at,” I say to my friend Miguel, clapping him on the back as we close the distance between each other.
“You did but where is the fun in that? It’s good to get out and mingle with the public every once in a while.”
I roll my eyes. I like to stay home and to be in my own space. There’s nothing wrong with that. And I do go out, when I have the time, just not as often as other people my age do.
“I hope you don’t mind, but I invited one of the team's photographers to come along with us. They told me that they were going to go home and just watch a movie, and I thought this would be more fun.”
