Page 34 of Renegade Ruin

“I figured?—”

“I thought you said no thinking.” My voice lilts, dare I say playfully, as I trace my fingers up the inside of her thigh until I reach the lips of her pussy, swollen and dripping from her release.

Something I can only describe as animalistic pride puffs in my chest with the knowledge that I did that to her. She could have asked anyone to free her, but she showed up at my hotel room.

“You want more?” Her words are breathy and filled with the trepidation that comes with spiraling into one's thoughts.

I wonder—nope, if she can’t spiral, neither can I.

She sucks in a breath and fists the comforter when I slip a finger inside her.

“I want what I was promised,” I say, removing my finger.

Her eyes are wide and zeroed in on my digit as I bring it to my lips, painting them with her arousal before taking it in my mouth and licking it clean.

Her lip catches between her teeth and she moans. “Fuck, that’s so hot.”

“Yes, you are. And the night is still young.”

CHAPTER TEN

WILLOW

I woke up feeling more like myself than I have in months. That’s not to say there isn’t a part of me that feels guilty using Bishop like my own personal fuck toy, and allowing him to do the same before sneaking out while he was still asleep. There is. It’s the same anxious feeling in my gut that knows it can never happen again, despite a very different part of me that wants just that. Last night was as I told him: a distraction followed by a goodbye of sorts.

Goodbye to the man who pushed me to be better. Goodbye to the attachment I’ve held onto for far too long. Goodbye to what was beginning, once upon a time, to feel a lot like love.

Don’t get me wrong. Feelings are still there, but as long as I don’t think too hard about them, I’m able to focus on the good that comes from letting go. Last night, he ignited a fire in the deepest parts of me, burning through the fear of failing and left hope in its wake. Hope that maybe I have what it takes to push past the grief and roadblocks and make this team something my father would be proud of.

Instead of showing up bright and early to the stadium, I let Vaughn know I’d be working from the beach house. I didn’t let him know I’d be doing so in my bikini, soaking in the heat ofthe Florida sun. I’m sure he’d have a few choice things to say about me working on my tan instead of showing up. But I needed the day to myself. Plus, it’s not like I need to be there for the first few days. It’s all physicals, team meetings, and allowing the pitchers and catchers to get acquainted with one another before the entire team shows up next week.

The afternoon sun beats down on my shoulders as I roll over onto my belly and set my laptop in front of me on the plush outdoor lounge, reading over the plans I’ve spent all day organizing.

They’re a pipe dream, a wish list of everything I want to do with the Renegades. They span from ideas on how to build a team of champions, to ways to get our fans excited about coming to the ballpark again. They fill in the holes left behind by my father, who had lofty dreams of making money in the sport he loved. While he was a fan from the day he was born and cherished this organization like it was an extension of his family, that sentiment didn’t expand beyond the team. He was still a businessman, and while I completely understand his choices, the Renegades can be so much more. I want to see that happen.

My phone buzzes beside me, two short and one long, and I know before looking who it is.

INDIE: T-minus one month until I see your faces!

LEIGH: Willow’s Birthday Paloooooooooza!!!

I roll my eyes and close the laptop screen before pulling myself up to sit cross-legged. I’m so lucky to have Leighton James and Indiana Lewisin my life. They don’t ever come out and say it when they message, but this is them checking in on me. Since the crash, they’ve made sure there isn’t a day that goes by that they don’t call or text. Always under the guise ofsomething else, never anything of importance, but they always check in, knowing it’s something I need so I don’t spiral. They ground me, not because I asked, but because that’s what best friends do.

A stray thought hits me, and I wonder if Bishop has anyone checking in on him like this. My fingers hover over the button that will take me out of the girls’ group text to where a text chain with him still sits. I’m itching to reach out, if only to remind him he’s not alone, but then I remember that’s not my job. Not anymore.

Another text from the girls comes through, and I force thoughts of Bishop from my head.

INDIE: What’s on the agenda this year for birthdaypalooza? Beach? Books? Boys? Oooooh…you think she’ll let me sneak into the locker room and get a peek at all those tight asses?

LEIGH: She’s not even looking at those tight asses.

INDIE: A shame really.

LEIGH: Right? She’s doing a disservice to women everywhere. Come on Willow, share the asses.

INDIE:

LEIGH:

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