Page 43 of Very Unlikely
“And smart enough to keep you at arm’s length even while sharing your bed.” He slaps a fielder who couldn’t catch a foul ball if his life depended on it in the chest. “I told you he isn’t your competition. He was so busy worrying about our dad stealing his girl out from under his nose, he didn’t spot a wannabe virgin slayer sneaking her out the back entrance. I wonder if she’ll cry when Cody claims the same hole ton—”
Coach shouts my name when I pin Adam to a locker by his throat before all of Adam’s sentence can leave his mouth, but since even he is aware this has been coming since the day Adam arrived here with an attitude bigger than his wish to return to the major leagues, he gives me a minute to yank Adam’s head out of his ass.
“Daddy may be stirring up the media, making out that you’re going to be something big one day, but he hasno onehere fooled. Not Coach. Not the journalists he’s stroking so hard they’re about to accurately report how much of a creep he is. And not Summer, who could smell the shit pouring out of you so fast five minutes after meeting you, she continuously checked her shoes for dog shit. She’s too smart to fall for Cody’s tricks, andeveryoneon this team is too smart to fall for yours.”
I give him a couple of seconds to absorb the absolute honesty in my eyes before I set him back on his feet then step away from him.
He looks rattled enough to offer to clean my cleats with his tongue, but since Cabarello blood circles through his arteries, he takes option B. “If you truly believed that, Jamison, you wouldn’t be hiding her from our father.”
After adjusting his shirt so the sports journalist outside will have no clue we just got into a tussle, he plasters a fake smile onto his face, then walks out into the media storm like his time at Ravenshoe isn’t a slap in the face.
You only ever drop back to the Summer League when you’re close to being cut from the majors. My father arrived here to help soften the blow. It’s what he does for the children he had with women who don’t care about his cheating ways. As long as they have unlimited access to his credit cards, he can manipulate and mold their children to be anything he wants them to be. Adam is a chip off his shoulder, and Mark isn’t very far behind, but regretfully, it doesn’t take away from the honesty of his comment.
If I trusted Summer, introducing her to my father wouldn’t be an issue.
I’m just too stubborn to admit that.
Aren’t I?
17
Summer
“Are you sure this was designed to be a dress?” I tug on the hem of the mini-dress Desiree convinced me to buy for tonight’s event, hopeful it will give it a couple more inches in length. “It’s closer in length to the shirts I wear than a dress.”
“Because you’re accustomed to wearing Lennox’s shirts. Compared to the girls you’re going against tonight, this is amodesthemline.”
I stop tugging on the lacy material to peer at Desiree in fret. I don’t want to compete against anyone. I just want Lennox to stop treating me like I’m a reject he can cast aside when someone better comes along for him to ‘play’ with.
Considering we only met weeks ago, Desiree can already read me far too well. “I meant the girls envious you’re on Cody Larson’s arm, not the ones hoping to be on Lennox’s.”
With a grunt, she pushes me into the chair she positioned in front of a full-length mirror half an hour ago. It doubles my assurance that my ‘dress’ isn’t a dress. When I sit, it rides so high on my thigh, I’m certain my panties would show if I were willing to flash Desiree to check.
“Oh… I was just going to retwist my bun,” I mutter out when Desiree commences destructing the messy bun my hair is rarely without. “My hair is too thick to wear down. It gives me a headache.” I swallow the remainder of my reply when she glares at me in the mirror. There’s nothing wrong with my hair. It barely weighs a thing. I just hate the way it makes people look at me differently when I wear it down.
I shake my head when Desiree asks if I have a straightener. “A curling iron?” I continue shaking my head. “What about a crimper?”
“I don’t have any of those things.” I also don’t know what half of them are, but I’d rather we keep that between us. “There’s a black gun-looking thingy under the sink in my bathroom. Would it help?”
She laughs about my lack of sophistication before lifting her chin. “Ahairdryerwill come in handy, but I’ll run back to my room to grab my GHD. That thing is the bomb!”
After a playful clash of her backside to my shoulder, she darts out the double patio doors I’ve not yet taken the time to admire. Our new room is even closer to the beach than our old room, but since a massive living area separates my room from Lennox’s, I haven’t been in the mood to take in how spectacular it truly is.
It must be costing Lennox a fortune for us to stay here, but the knowledge doesn’t fill me with happiness. If he wanted privacy, he could have told me. He didn’t need to dip into his father’s unwanted funds to get some alone time. I would have shortened the length of my stay by driving back to Buffalo to spend time with my father like he suggested only an hour ago when I mentioned things were a little odd between Lennox and me right now. It took everything I had to convince him not to catch the next train to Ravenshoe so he could be my co-driver like he is every summer. If I hadn’t reminded him about Cody’s Comet arriving first thing tomorrow morning, he’d be halfway to Ravenshoe by now.
Suddenly parched, I make my way into the living room to fetch one of the complimentary bottles of water the maids left this morning. My steps wobble partway across the massive living room when Lennox spots my approach. He’s leaning against the patio door that separates our rooms, talking on the phone. He is shoeless, shirtless, and grumpy—my all-time favorite combination.
“Lindsay, I need to go.” His tongue delves out to lick his lips as his eyes rake my body. “I’m happy to go with whatever you decide.” Stealing his chance to reply for a second time, he lowers his cell phone from his ear, disconnects his call, then tosses it onto the coffee table wedged between us. “Is Desiree gone?”
I half nod, half shrug. “Only for a minute. She went to get a hair straightener.”
He pulls a face similar to the one he did late this afternoon when his trek through our suite had him stumbling onto Desiree in the corner of my room, rummaging through my suitcase. “I thought perhaps maybe she was going to find the rest of your outfit.”
I give him the stink eye. “Desiree said this length is modest.”
“For most girls, Sum. You’re not most girls.”
I roll my eyes, stupidity my only defense when my ego is being knocked into the next century. I know I’m not like the girls he usually dates, but he doesn’t need to point it out every second of every day. “You’ve told me that a million times already, Lennox. But hey, what’s another knock to my ego.”
