Cleat Catcher (The Cleat Chaser Duet Book 2) (8 page)

I kept my voice low as she sobbed into her hand. “They’re looking to trade me, or just cut me loose. That play that made all the highlight reels might be the last bit of baseball that I have to hold onto. Me. Failing. What the fuck am I if I’m not on a ballfield?” My voice rose. “Shit! Shit is all I am. Your boyfriend Carter up there got that one right. Didn’t he?”

She continued to weep in front of me, and I still couldn’t stop the onslaught.

“I-I didn’t know that, B-Braden. Y-you didn’t tell me.”

I clenched my fists. “Maybe because all you could talk about was meeting your parents.” I held my hands up and mocked her. “Oh, what a great idea that was! Look at them. Hey, they’re happy now.” I walked back to the car.

She stilled.

“Baseball is all I’ve got. And all you cared about was this stupid night.” I hated myself as soon as the words left my mouth.

“B-baseball is all y-you’ve got?” She barely got the words out before the sobs increased tenfold.

Reality crashed into me like a Mack truck. Carter wasn’t the biggest prick here. It was me.
What the fuck did I just do?
I looked away and took in a huge breath of night air. “I’m sorry. I just—you know what I mean. Come home. We’ll figure it out.”

Mr. Graves walked down the steps and put his arm around Nik’s shoulders.

I took a step toward her. “Nikki, please?”

She was damn near catatonic, just standing there, staring at the ground as her tears splattered on the concrete. I’d reduced her to this, all because I couldn’t handle my own bullshit. She buried her face in her father’s shoulder and sobbed.

Regret ripped through my chest, the pain sudden and searing. “Nik, please? I’m sorry.”

Mr. Graves looked up at me. “Maybe you should head home, Braden. You two can sort this out tomorrow.”

I couldn’t look away from her. “Is that what you want?”

Carter piped up. “Of course it’s what she—”

Mr. Graves turned to Carter and held up a hand. “Zip it, son.”

Nikki still refused to look at me, and my heart tightened like a vise was clamping down on it with every second that passed. Mr. Graves turned around slowly. “My daughter has had enough tonight, Braden. Just give her a little time.”

I shook my head again, grinding my jaw and staring at that smirking motherfucker. But I knew Mr. Graves was right. Something about the way he spoke to Carter—I knew Nik would be safe. But he wasn’t the threat. I was. I’d done a lot of damage in a short amount of time.
Fuck.

My eyes started to mist, and I didn’t want Carter to have the satisfaction of seeing me cry for the first time in fifteen years. I nodded. “O-okay then.” I glanced at Nik one last time, and wanted the whole ordeal to be a nightmare I’d wake up from in a cold sweat, with her next to me to grab hold of. She still trembled against her father. “Sorry for ruining your evening.”

I walked to the car, regret ripping through my body with every step. When I pulled out of the driveway, and Nik disappeared in the rearview mirror, I couldn’t keep the tears at bay anymore. What had I just done?

N
IKKI

K
YRIE PULLED ME
into her arms as Easton closed the front door of their apartment behind us. I still hadn’t been able to stop crying. Dad had dropped me here so I could stay the night with Kyrie. I couldn’t stand to be anywhere near Carter or Mom after everything that had happened.

Kyrie shushed me and ran her hand through my hair. “It’ll be okay. Just tell me what happened.”

“I’ll just be, uh, I’ll be doing the dishes or something.” Easton took off toward the kitchen like the hounds of hell were after him.

“Fat chance,” Kyrie mumbled and guided me toward their bedroom. She set me on the edge of the bed and wiped her thumbs across my cheeks. “I’ll get you some water. Hang on.”

My phone beeped again and again. I dug it out of my bag and turned the ringer off. Braden would have to wait. I couldn’t speak to him, couldn’t even think about him without feeling a knife in my ribs.

“I don’t want water.” I swiped at my eyes.

Kyrie kept walking toward their bathroom, her yoga pants clinging to her round ass. “That was really a cover. I’m getting you a makeup remover wipe. You look like a sad raccoon.”

I cried harder. First, at the thought of looking ugly, and second, at the realization I’d never have an ass as nice as Kyrie’s.

She disappeared into the bathroom and, before long, reappeared with a wet wipe, a box of tissues, and a small tumbler of water. “Let me get you cleaned up a bit.”

I let her wipe my face. “Am I ugly?” I asked through my haze of self-pity. My sobs had quieted, but I couldn’t stop my tears.

“Are you kidding?” She laughed and gently scrubbed beneath my eyes. “I’ve wished for your looks a million times.”

That cheered me a little. Jealousy always made me feel like I was doing something right. After Kyrie finished cleaning me up, I blew my nose and took a few sips of water. She crawled to the head of the bed and lay down. Her perfect, large tits taunted me beneath her snug tank top.
Showoff
. Patting the mattress next to her, she said, “Come on, give me all the dirty details.”

I obliged, flopping down next to her and burying my face in her pillow. “Braden lost his mind in front of my parents and made me feel like shit.”

“Braden’s mind feels your tits? Is that what you said?” She smoothed a hand up and down my back.

I rolled to the side and stared up at her. “No, he went nuts because Carter was at the dinner.”

Kyrie knew all the details of my past, so Carter was nothing new.

Kyrie whistled. “Does he know about you and Carter?”

“He does now.” I sighed. “And he yelled at me in front of everyone about how baseball is his life.” The ache he’d set off in my chest came back with full force. “And that it’s the only thing he cares about.” A sob rocketed up from my lungs.

Kyrie pulled me to her and held me. We laid side by side for a few minutes until my crying fit subsided enough for her to speak.

“He loves you. Something must have set him off. Something bad. I’m not making excuses for him.” The hand she was using to pet my hair clutched the strands a little too tightly.

“Ow.”

“Sorry.” She resumed her stroking. “I just don’t like the thought of him yelling at you.”

“He wasn’t himself. Not at all. And it wasn’t just because of Carter. He said Coach pulled him into his office a few days ago.” I dropped my voice to a whisper. “He may be traded.”

“Oh, shit.” Her eyes widened.

“Yeah, he didn’t tell me, not until tonight. He should have told me.” I couldn’t have done anything, but at least we could have carried the burden together. “He didn’t trust me enough to tell me. It hurts.” I buried my face in her ample tits. They were soft and warm, just like I remembered. Easton really was a lucky man.

“I don’t think it was a trust issue. Braden is the sort of guy who wants to make everyone else happy. He’s always smiling, cutting up, having a good time, and most of all, making sure everyone around him is having a great time. He probably didn’t want to bring you down.”

“That doesn’t make it okay.” I snuggled closer to her chest pillows.

“Of course not. I’d like to smack the shit out of him.” She sighed. “But I think the pressure of meeting your parents, plus having to deal with Carter,
on top
of the trade talks… Maybe it was all too much for him. Not an excuse, just an explanation.”

“Does Easton sleep like this every night, right here in the sweet spot?”

She laughed, her tits jiggling in a friendly sort of way. “Easton would say that I have an even sweeter spot he’d like to be in all night long.”

I laughed a little. “That’s why I like him. He has his priorities straight.”

“Did Braden say where they might trade him to?”

“No, he said that Coach—”

“Trade?” Easton leaned against the doorframe. “I hate to interrupt your ‘Terms of Endearment’ moment, but you can’t say the word trade around here and expect me to sit back and ignore it. What’s going on?”

I recounted how Braden had acted, including the bombshell about a possible trade.

Easton went from pissed to shocked and back to pissed. “That fucker didn’t even say a word to me about it.” He flexed his fists and paced around the room. “I’m going to ring his goddamn bell.”

“Easton, calm down.” Kyrie shifted, leaving me without my delightful tit perch. “Nikki needs our help, not for you to go caveman like Braden.”

I sat up and rubbed my eyes. “He said it was just ‘talks’ not an actual trade, so he can still stay with the Ravens, right?”

Easton shook his head and continued his pacing, his big body making the lamps rattle with each angry step. “If they start shit like that, they usually finish it. They don’t talk about trades unless there’s a real chance it could happen. Fuck!” He slapped his hand down on the dresser. “I’m going to kick his sorry ass!”

“Easton.” Kyrie stood and walked to him. She pried his arms apart and wrapped them around her. “This isn’t about you, baby. It’s about Nikki and Braden. Can you calm down enough to help her figure out what to do?” She stared up at him with her green eyes.

Easton melted for her, turning back into the teddy bear I’d come to know and love.

He sighed and rubbed her back before glancing over to me. “I’ll help. Of course I’ll help.”

Our apartment was dark when I walked in. I shut the door behind me and navigated through the living room from memory. A hall light showed me to our bedroom. When I opened the door, Braden’s gentle snore greeted me. Beer bottles covered his nightstand, and he lay on his back, his forearm thrown across his eyes. Tissues littered the floor next to the bed.

I wasn’t surprised. He’d sent me over fifty “I’m sorry” voice mails and texts, each one drunker than the last. I stared at him, his dress shirt wrinkled and his hair in an untidy mess. Even after what he’d done at my parents’ house, I loved him. Something told me I always would.

On my side of the bed, he’d arranged three pillows next to him in a line, as if a person were lying there. As if
I
were there.

I dropped my bag on the dresser, and he roused a bit. He turned to the pillow-Nikki and hugged her to his chest. My bruised heart warmed at the sight.

When he murmured “Nik,” fresh tears welled in my eyes. He was a grown man, but handled problems like a teenage boy—bottling them up until he exploded. We would work through it together. And I would do everything I could to help him through the trade issue. But right then, all I wanted was him.

I walked to the bed, unzipping my dress as I went. It hit the floor and I stepped out of it. Peeling my panties down my legs, I kicked them away. Then I unclasped my bra and tossed it.

“Braden.” I climbed on top of him, straddling his hips.

His dark eyelashes fluttered until he was awake, staring up at me.

“Nik, I’m sorry.” The moonlight glinted off the pools of sadness forming in his eyes.

“It’s okay.” I unbuttoned his shirt. “Just don’t let it happen again.”

“I should never have said those things. I didn’t mean them—”

“I know. You should have told me about the trade.”

“You’re right. I thought I could, I don’t know, handle it somehow. Wh-what are you doing?” He ran his hands up my thighs and his cock thickened beneath my pussy.

“That worked out well, didn’t it? Got it all handled, did you?” I dragged my nails down his chest.

The teary glint left his eye and was replaced with heat. “Are you punishing me?”

I pinched his nipples. “Do you want to be punished? You certainly deserve it.”

He let his eyes rove my body, lingering on my tits and then on my pussy. I unbuttoned and unzipped his pants. When I yanked down his boxers, his cock sprang free. I gripped it, stroking slowly with one hand as I rubbed my pussy back and forth over the base.

“I don’t like being punished.” He groaned as I bore down on him, letting him feel how wet I was. “But I’d like to apologize by fucking you until you can’t walk straight.”