His easy smile slips off his face as he walks toward me. “Yo, you okay, bro? You’ve been edgy all morning, biting everyone’s head off.” He looks back at the dugout, and I can see a few of our teammates staring at us. Knowing Torres, he probably told them he’d volunteer to tell me to cool it.
But I can’t.
Because every time I close my eyes and try to focus on practice, all I can see is Isabella.Allof Isabella.
Bent over, shorts barely containing the ass that’s become my personal kryptonite. Only to turn around and show me something I most definitely should never have seen.
Not because I’m a good man. My thoughts are far from good when it comes to Isa, but rather because I now know what she hid behind those tiny bikini tops she unknowingly tortured me with while we were on vacation.
And now, all I can do is rewrite the events of last night.
Where instead of almost shattering my glass of water, I walked around the counter and easily ripped that sorry excuse for a tank top clean off her body and filled my hands with her luscious breasts. Backing her into the refrigerator so I could lean down and suck one of her pebbled nipples into my mouth.
Scenario after scenario flood my mind, making it impossible to reel in my frustrations.
This morning’s school drop-off was awkward enough.
She tried apologizing multiple times. Although I never let the words leave her mouth, since I kept this morning about Anna and all the necessary security approvals Isa needed from the school.
But what would she be apologizing for? That I’m not certain of. Since I’m sure she’s not apologizing for making me escape to my room moments after I left her warm meal waiting in front of her.
I made sure to bite my tongue to guarantee her name didn’t escape my lips as I quickly finished myself off in the shower.
Strike one.
What the fuck was I thinking, caging her in my arms and whispering “strike one”?
It’s as if my mind short-circuits around her. First, I hire her to be Anna’s nanny. Then I offer her a midnight meal portioned for two, followed by threatening her.
I chuckle to myself at the thought. As if that strike was meant for her and not me.
“Listen, we all have our days. It’s just that, um, you always seem to be the one telling us to get our heads out of our asses. But now that you’re being all”—he waves his hand in mygeneral direction, as if it explains everything perfectly— “well, you know, I guess I have to be the one to tell you to cut the shit. Besides, I thought I’d save your ass before Coach Weston tries to wring your neck. We all know he’s one bad play away from being featured onSnapped. Ain’t no way someone can be that calm and stick to themselves that much.” He smiles, bearing his annoyingly white teeth at me like the little brother I most certainly didn’t ask for.
I shake my head slightly. He’s right. I’ve never given Coach a reason to ride my ass, and I’m sure as hell not starting now.
I never bring my personal troubles onto the field. Not when I found out the woman I was having a casual relationship with was pregnant. Not when Anna was born and I realized what it meant to not only be a single parent, but the sole parent of a newborn.
So why the hell is this rattling me so much?
“My bad. Rough morning. It’s Anna’s—”
I don’t get to finish my sentence. Torres may be one of the biggest jokesters on the team, but he’s a devoted father of three. And he does not mess around when it comes to his wife and kids.
He grabs my shoulder and uses his glove to cover his mouth. Something we do when we don’t want cameras reading our lips. Even though we’re just at practice, we’re expected to always believe a camera is pinned on us, no matter where we are. “Anna okay? What happened? I can get Denise to pick her up.”
His wife, Denise, would absolutely load her SUV with her kids and drive anywhere for Anna, that I don’t doubt. Another reason I should feel lucky to have people like them in my life. But this isn’t something Denise can help me with, unfortunately.
“Anna’s fine. It’s her first day of school. And…” I hesitate, knowing that Torres may have a good heart, but he also has the biggest mouth on the team, and probably the East Coast. “Her new nanny started today, and I guess I’m stressing about—”
“A new nanny, huh?” His shit poker face needs work, because it barely hides his amusement.
“What? Spit it out, Torres.”
He shrugs nonchalantly. “Nada. Just find it funny that Denise ran into your mother yesterday, and that’s how we found out that our sweet little Isabella was your new nanny.”
I’m taken aback for a moment, because, to my knowledge, Isabella has no connection to Torres. Unless…
Before Denise, Torres had his fair share of fun in the dating department, if you even want to call it that. And while he is obnoxiously obsessed with his wife and would never stray, I wonder if he ever crossed paths with Isabella during his single days.
