Page 36 of West Bound

Fucking hell!

I open my mouth to tell him I’ll think about when his name is shouted from behind him.

“Ramirez! Quit flirting with the pretty reporter and get your ass ready to hit,” their batting coach yells.

“Catch up later.” He throws me another wink and shuffles off.

Bases are stolen, strikes are swung, points are scored and outs are abundant. But the entire time that the game plays on, my thoughts are lost on Phoenix and how I really don’t want to think of him…and how I really want to get under him.

Curse you, baseball gods.

“Hey-O. There’s Red.” Bishop stands at the end of the hallway where he waits with Cami, Dagen, Vaughan and a drop dead gorgeous young woman.

I smile and make my way towards them, walking like I’m on a runway in case eyes are watching me from behind.

“Hi Miss Viv,” Dagen says cheerily, waving her hand at me at the speed of a hummingbird's wings.

“Hey, Day. Did you enjoy the game?” I give her a hug and she squeezes me back.

“Yeah. Dad let me watch the live feed on his phone so I could listen to you. It’s so cool that you get to sit by the players,” she gushes.

“Eh. They’re alright, I guess.” I wink and bump her with my hip and she laughs. “Next time you come, I’ll take you down to the dugout and you can meet some of the guys”

“Really!? Omigod that would be so amazing! Thank you, Miss Viv.” She hugs me once again, constricting my lungs' ability to breathe.

“If you want to meet the players, I can take you into the clubhouse. Get ‘em all to sign a jersey,” a deep voice bursts my happy bubble and my lip automatically curls.

Phoenix walks out of the locker room, his leather designer duffle bag slung over his shoulder, and his soft curls wet from the shower he just took. The asshole has the nerve to look delicious in faded black jeans that fit just perfectly, giving the best view of his firm ass and thick quads. The white t-shirt he wears ghosts over his abs and defined biceps, and all that ink that drives me mad.

Is it weird to say I wanna lick each and every line that covers his body?

The little spoiled brat that lives inside of me stomps her feet and screeches when I think of how sexy he is. I feel a punch to my gut and I assume it’s her, telling me to quit being a horny idiot and toughen up. And to also not squeeze my thighs together to ease the aching in my core.

“Hey brotha. Glad you all won. Wish we could’ve seen you pitch tonight.” Bishop tells him as they exchange bro-hugs.

“I’m starting tomorrow so if you’re not busy, I'll leave tickets again.” He greets Vaughan the same way he did Bishop, hugs Cami–traitor–and high five’s Dagen.

He turns to the young woman whom I have yet to be introduced to and she jumps into his arms. His large arms hug around her waist, the bare skin of her back exposed from her crop top coming into contact with his. Her teeny tiny denim shorts–if you can call them that–barely contain her booty cheeks. Her stupid, youthful butt that she probably doesn’t have to worry about taking the stairs or spend hours at spin class to keep high and tight.

Her feet dangle off the floor when Phoenix lifts her off the ground. I can’t help but notice her smooth brown skin that looks like it’s never seen a pimple. Her dark brown curly hair is streaked with golden strands and I can almost guarantee that this little hussy wakes up looking like she is now.

My gut sours and I feel this…this horrible sense of jealousy. It’s a shock to me and I feel like I might throw up.

We don’t like him, the little girl inside me says. Mentally, I agree. My body, on the other hand, elbows that whiny bitch out of the way and starts climbing Phoenix, rubbing her scent all over him and claiming him as hers.

“What’d you think Ana? Enjoy the game even though your favorite player wasn’t throwing strikes?” Phoenix asks the girl then sets her down on her feet before kissing her cheek.

We hate him. We hate him. We hate her.

“It was awesome. Bishop made sure to fill me in on all your new teammates, and Dagen and I talked music. She’s never heard of Kali Uchis, so I let her listen to some songs. All age appropriate, of course,” she adds and smiles with stupid, shiny, white teeth.

“Yeah, and we invited her over to the ranch to ride the horses.” Dagen, who two minutes ago was my favorite, tells Phoenix.

“Did you meet everyone?” Phoenix asks his chick whom he definitely wasn’t thinking about a few nights ago when he had his tongue jammed down my throat and his dick knocking on my front door.

“Um, not everyone,” she replies and looks at me. “Hi. I’m Anais.”

Hi. I’m Anais, I mock…in my head, of course. Even her name is beautiful.

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