And it was all because of her. It irked him to have to admit it but it was true.
He hadn’t felt so alive in over a year, since his shoulder gave out and his so-called friends bailed on him. This time, rounding the bases and landing on home plate greeted by only the next guy up to bat. He didn’t expect a crowd, but a few more cheers from his own team would have been nice. Had being on the road always felt likeDeja vu? Or was it just his new reality—different place but still the same. Him sitting in the hotel bar, having a drink, eating dinner, then going to bed. He had expected Stacia to join him after the game but, since that episode in the batting cage, she was off the grid. She must have been tired and gone to bed.
The bartender slid his meal in front of him and he sighed. Another dinner alone. He used to be more comfortable alone. When did he start wishing for company?
Damn, the least she could have done was have dinner with him, after getting him all hot and bothered.
The door opened and reflexively he scanned the people coming in. Couple of reporters following the team but no one else he knew. He turned his attention back to his burger and resumed eating.
A squeal had him groaning. Another goddamn groupie. “Oh, my God! I can’t believe it! Jason Friar!”
Did he always hook up with skanks? Sheesh, she was young, probably early twenties and dressed like she should be working the street or a low-end strip club. What the hell had he been thinking all those years?
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a reporter grab his phone. Before the young woman could latch onto him, another woman stepped in the way and hooked her arm onto his.
“Honey, do you want to introduce us?” Stacia looked up at him with a sweet smile on her face, only her eyes snapped fire, promising retribution. The other woman stopped dead in her tracks, confusion written all over her face. Stacia held out her free hand. “I’m Stacia, Jason’s girlfriend. You are?”
The other woman stuttered, muttered something and stumbled away; all the while Stacia smiled a brittle, cold smile that left no one doubting she was a woman who was well and truly pissed.
The reporters slowly settled in their seats, waiting for the next drama.
Stacia slid onto the bar stool next to him and took a swig of his beer then leaned over and kissed him on the lips, a brief girlfriend type of kiss, signaling to everyone he was taken. “Play along,” she whispered. “I’m trying to save your ass.”
He stared at her, not sure what had just happened, but he knew one thing. “Damn woman, you’re better than kryptonite. I’m keeping you around.”
The idea slammed him out of nowhere, like a pitch to the head. The notion of keeping her around felt so good, so right, that he wondered why he hadn’t thought of it before.
Stacia snagged a French fry and signaled to the bartender for a beer. She snagged another fry and he grabbed her hand. “You’re eating my meal. Get your own.”
“Girlfriends always eat their boyfriend’s food. You want people to think we’re together, right?”
“So, you believe me.” He studied her, watching her eyes, seeing if she truly believed him.
“After that little incident, yes.” She snagged another fry. “And management will believe me too when I tell them. So, no worries about your contract.”
“Right,” he said, drawing out the word, trying to understand the situation. “What about the reporters? They’re watching every move.”
She casually glanced at them and waved. “So, maybe they’ll get off your back.”
He stared at her, suspicion and another feeling—jealousy maybe—reared its ugly green head. “How many times have you played the girlfriend card to help a client?”
She frowned, her eyes shadowed and shuttered. “Too many. It’s part of the job.”
“How about being in my bed?”
“I haven’t been in your bed.”
“I seem to recall something different.”
“It was in the hotel bedbeforeyou were a client,” she pointed out. “Doesn’t count.”
“What about tonight?” He held his breath. Would she do it?
“Tonight, according to everyone, we’re dating. If I choose to sleep with you, then it’s my choice.”
“It’ll look odd if you’re on the road with me as my girlfriend and not sleeping with me.” Irritated at the game, he dragged his plate away and swatted her hand. “Mine.”
“True, but I don’t see any other guys with girlfriends or even wives on the road. They’ll think I met you here.”