Page 116 of Hard Hitter

“Good to see you again, Mamacita,” Quinn said, his voice full of playfulness and charm at the same time. Raelyn peeked ever so slightly around the corner of her nook in time to see the two step out of an embrace. The woman’s hands lingered on Quinn’s biceps. It made her want to sob and scream and fall apart all at once.

“Tomorrow, then? Eleven o’clock? We can do lunch and then go from there,” the woman said. Raelyn leaned against the wall, standing still as she heard footsteps advancing. Eyes closed, trying to just breathe and keep the inevitable flood at bay, she waited to hear Quinn’s door close.

The click of the door and the electronic beep of it locking behind him sounded through the empty hall. Raelyn stood still, unsure of her next move. Should she confront him? Should she walk away and let him figure it out? Should she confronther?This woman that Raelyn had never seen, but apparently Quinn had and was going to see again? She swallowed around the lump in her throat, considering how to move forward. How to handle this. How...how she was supposed to just carry on once this had officially come to an end.

The thought of their final goodbye brought the first sob out. She put a hand over her mouth and tried to keep control. She thought of how little sense this made. How she knew, sheknewQuinn loved her.Lovesher. Was this really just some act between them? Was this something fun to do while he was benched? The questions seemed absolutely ridiculous, but what else could she think?

Closing her eyes again, she was taken back to the doorway of Emerson’s office at the law firm. The woman lying on his desk with her legs wrapped around his waist. His pants slung just low enoughon his hips that he could fuck her. She remembered that entire scene, and how humiliated she had felt. She hadn’t wanted to face him, talk to him, be anywhere near him. She hadn’t wanted to give him a chance to explain or try to excuse it like he had the first time.

Raelyn considered going to Quinn’s door and knocking. Then she imagined him opening the door for her to see the scene of whatever had just happened in that room. Jett said he’d dropped him off close two hours ago now, and she was just leaving. What kind of mess had they made in that hotel room? Had they shaken picture frames off their spots on the walls like she and Quinn had only days ago? Knocked over lamps? How tangled were the sheets?

No. She did not want to see that. She wanted to get as far away from that as possible.

Having found the motivation finally to push herself off the wall and head back to the elevator and out to the car, Raelyn concentrated on her breathing until she was comfortably behind the wheel again. Then she let it out. The tears, the sobs, the struggle to catch her breath. Her chest was tight and her heart felt like it was shattered into a thousand broken in pieces. Her stomach was still dropping out of itself into nothingness, and she had no idea where to go from here.

The chime of her phone in the passenger’s seat made her gasp and pause. She slowly reached her hand over to look at the screen.

Quinn:Hey, baby. I’m so sorry that took so long. I promise to make it up to you when you get here. You want it soft, we can do it soft and slow. You want it rough and wild, you know I can do that, too. I love you. See you soon.

Closing her eyes with silent tears streaming down her cheeks, Raelyn felt the last piece of her heart break.

Chapter 31

2009

Quinn’s eyes fell on the scoreboard. They were tied 6-6 in the bottom of the ninth. Traverse City was up to bat, and if they struck out before they could make a run, they’d be running extra innings. The guys on his team were good, but Bay City had one hell of a pitcher. The announcer had mentioned the pitcher’s scholarship to play for Texas A & M in the fall, which meant Quinn wasn’t the only player here who’d been scouted, recruited, and fought over by multiple universities. He felt it leveled the playing field, so to speak, knowing that he was up against guys who were just as good as, or maybe even better than he was. The cocky punk in him didn’t want to admit they could be better, but he pretended to believe as much.

He stood up from the bench and leaned, crossing his arms to rest over the top of the fence in front of the dugout. His eyes scanned the crowd and gravitated toward the long blond hair beneath a worn navy blue ball cap. Her white t-shirt read ‘Traverse City West Baseball’, and was short enough to show just the smallest fraction of skin between its hem and the waistband of her blue jean cutoffs. Though he couldn’t see it from where he stood, he knew she was wearing her low-rise black Chuck Taylors, and that she had a number seven- his jersey number- painted on one cheek just behind her crescent-shaped dimple.

God, could that girl be more perfect?

Rae caught him looking at her and smiled brightly, then stuck her tongue out at him before smiling again. Quinn’s lips slowly curvedupward in response, his chest inflating with warmth as he thought about how great the past couple weeks had been.

Their relationship had changed notably. Not in a huge way, but there were subtle differences Quinn couldn’t help noticing. Rae had always been very hands-on, never afraid to wrap him into a hug or plant a soft kiss on his cheek or steal his hat off his head and ruffle his already messy hair. She’d loop her arm through his as they walked or take him up on a piggy-back ride simply walking down the hall at school or in the parking lot to and from her car. But ever since his mom’s car accident on Prom night, these actions had become more frequent, and more...well, justmore.

Watching movies in the theater room at her house, she’d sit closer, or sit leaning her back on the arm of the couch with her legs draped over his lap. She’d suggested more hang-outs in the hot tub, and had worn that tiny blue bikini from the end of summer party on more than one occasion. It had caused problems on his end a few times, but he wasn’t about to ask her to change. And she almost always wore something of his. A hat, a hoodie, his team t-shirts with his last name and jersey number on the back.

He wasn’t complaining, of course. Actually, he loved it. He just didn’t know how to interpret it. Any other guy would probably take it as a sign that she liked him, but Quinn was skeptical. He’d wondered if she was doing it because she felt bad about the car accident. His mom had been in rough shape, and he’d been taking care of her more than usual. Quinn wasn’t sure if this was just Rae’s way of trying to relax him. Make him feel better and ease his anxiety over everything.

Another explanation could be the pact they’d made at the beginning of the year. She made sure to ask him every now and then if they were still on for it, if he’d met anyone or had been with anyone since shaking on their agreement. Obviously he hadn’t. Holding out to be with Rae was absolutely not a problem for Quinn. However, there were a few things regarding the arrangement that had been gnawing at him.

When he thought about the pact they’d made, it made him excited, exhilarated, and a little bit like he’d dreamt the whole discussion andthat it was all in his head. That it was never going to actually happen, and he and Rae would simply remain friends who didn’t touch or kiss each other or get naked together. There was also the issue that he didn’t want it to just be about sex. He wanted so much more than that with her. He wanted everything. He wanted to call her his and let everyone around know that she was off limits.

But for Rae, he was pretty certain it was just sex. She didn’t want to arrive on campus at the University of Michigan in the fall and feel like the only inexperienced freshman around. If it was more than that for her, Quinn was sure she would have told him. She would have made a move, right? Because what reason did she have not to? There wasn’t a single guy in their school who’d turn her down if she expressed interest, and she had to know that.

Just sex or not, Quinn was determined to make it as special as he could for her. Maybe she’d understand how much she meant to him. He wasn’t much of a talker and had no idea how to put into words what he felt for her. He’d practiced it on several occasions, but the words seemed inadequate. Maybe if he said them as he was being intimate with her, being gentle and caring and showing her how much she could trust him with her body, with everything...maybe then the words would feel like they meant something.

There was also the small matter of the pact being avirginitypact. And...well, Quinn wasn’t exactly a virgin. It was only one other person, but Rae was still operating under the impression that they were both sharing their first time together. He doubted she’d find out. The girl he’d had sex with the previous year, almost a year before the virginity pact was in place, wasn’t someone Rae ever talked to if she could help it. But...if the important part of this pact was that Rae wasn’t going to college with zero sexual experience, he didn’t think that point mattered much. Quinn didn’t care about his first time. It wasn’t a big deal. He cared about Rae’s, and he knew he was the best guy for the job.

“Case, you’re on deck to bat!” Coach Garcia called to him with a grin. He gave Quinn a pat on the back as he grabbed his batting helmet andwalked out of the dugout. Gloves on, helmet secured, Quinn grabbed his bat and moved to the circle, readying himself to bat.

Tim Hoyt, a tall, dark-haired senior player was at the plate. The pitcher had been doing a good job striking out their players, and the bases were empty. Tim needed to make it to a base or they’d be going into a tenth inning.

Quinn gave a few practice swings as he stood in the on-deck circle, not taking his eyes off the pitcher. He breathed in and out, long, slow breaths. Stretched his arms and shoulders. Gave another practice swing and another round of steadying breaths. If Tim struck out, Quinn was set to pitch the next inning. He told himself confidently he’d make it a no-hitter and then he’d be first to bat. He’d get a run, and the game would be done. One way or another, he’d win this game for his team.

The pitcher wound up and sent the ball in. Tim didn’t swing. Good call.

“Ball!” The umpire called as the catcher threw the ball back to the tall pitcher.

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