Strike: Bases Series (Book Two) Read online

  A ping pong ball bounces in front of me, steering my attention back to the party. Music vibrates the floorboards of the first floor, where most of the party is taking place, but Gavin wanted to stay close to the fully stocked bar in the basement.

  I watch two couples make out on the couch, a group of guys playing Mario on a big screen TV, and then there’s Gavin attempting to get his ball in a red cup for the last hour and failing at it.

  Needless to say, I’m tired of coming to parties and babysitting Gavin when he gets too drunk to function. I don’t mind coming to a party here and there, but it was every weekend now. Gavin calls it bonding with his teammates, and then he takes me out to breakfast on Sundays to either soak up all the alcohol he consumed the night before, or because he felt bad for dragging me to yet another thing I really didn’t want to go to.

  I typically lean toward the latter, but the last few times has me thinking I’m really naive in this relationship. The attention is wearing off, Gavin is starting to show me more and more that he’s a party boy just with a girlfriend now.

  And even then, I feel out of place.

  Every girl here has sent at least one dirty look my way. This was his stomping ground. I already know what pre-girlfriend Gavin used to do at parties, the scowls remind me each and every time.

  “Hey sugar lips,” Gavin slurs over his shoulder at me. “Will you grab me another beer?”

  I swallow my next words from responding “haven’t you had enough,” but I don’t want to be that girlfriend. Instead, I take a sip of the same beer I’ve had since we got here. We’ve been here for hours, I should be drunk by now.

  I blow out a steady breath from my mouth and force a smile, striding off like the good girlfriend I am to grab him another beer that he doesn’t need.

  Gavin latches onto my forearm, gives me a sloppy kiss, and lightly slaps my butt. “Thanks, babe.”

  I pull my phone out of my back pocket as I trail up the stairs to text Taylor.

  Me: Are you here yet?

  She promised she would be, I need a dancing partner and someone to talk to while Gavin becomes annihilated downstairs.

  I cautiously squeeze in between more kissing couples on top of the stairs as “Shake Ya Tailfeather” by Murphy Lee, Nelly, and P. Diddy pushes the bass and hype up in Liam’s spacious family room.

  Beautiful chandeliers hang from the middle of the room and in the kitchen. The luminous light on the shiny hardwood floors would blind me if they were any cleaner. White suede couches adorn the seating area, and the kitchen island is surrounded by teens laughing and sipping from their red cups.

  Another set of stairs to my left would take you to the second floor, and instead of walls enclosing the house, the room is surrounded by windows overlooking the woods to the east and open grassy fields to the west.

  The house is beyond beautiful, something you’d see in a magazine or on MTV Cribs. Liam has a lot of guts to invite so many people to his father’s pristine home.

  Looking around for a keg, I stride toward the kitchen, compressing myself again through packs of people, until my route is blocked by a pretty brunette and Colson Hayes...making out.

  His hands squeeze her ass, her fingers run through his chestnut hair, and my heart drops right into the pit of my stomach. Panic slams into me because I don’t want him to see me.

  I don’t want another awkward conversation like the one at the pizza parlor yesterday. I just want to get this night and our project together over with and finish out my senior year like I’ve planned.

  I extend my stride, rounding them all together. An elbow jabs into my boob as I squeeze through the throng of people. Warm beer drips down my arm, but I could care less right now, the goal is to get to the alcohol undetected and then get safely back downstairs. The crowd opens up a tad, giving me a wider view of the kitchen, and just when I think I’m in the clear, a hand grasps my forearm.

  I know that hand, and I shouldn’t be familiar with the callous bumps from rubbing his palms against a baseball bat.

  “Hey Sawyer,” a sweet, slurred voice greets behind me. I slowly turn around, my focus landing on glacier blue eyes, thick auburn locks rounding her perfect cheekbones and perfect teeth.

  Then I dock on her huge boobs barely covered by a yellow dress, instantly making me cover mine by crossing my arms.

  “Hi,” I reply. I don’t know this girl, never seen her before in my life.

  “Where’s asshole Gavin?” Colson remarks, making his presence known, not that he ever needed to. I coerce myself to not bite my lip and show how uncomfortable I am in this situation.

  “Downstairs, I’m grabbing him another beer.”

  He gives me a dirty look. “ He asked you to grab it?”

  “No,” I lie. “I told him I would. I offered.” Colson deepens his scowl before he leans into his makeout buddy and whispers something in her ear. Whatever he said must be good because she gives him an ear-to-ear smile and presses her lips to his again, slow and suggestive.

  Colson bites her lower lip in return, and when I turn around to leave, he clasps my arm again. I instantly tug, watching him release her mouth. The girl waves at me and walks away in her dress that hugs not only her vast boobs but her perfect butt too.

  “What do you want?” I grumble, yanking my arm so hard that I feel the muscles in my shoulder stretch.

  “Lose the attitude,” Colson dismisses, ignoring my attempt to free myself. I tug one more time, and he finally lets me go. “Let’s go grab a drink.”

  “No, I’m driving.”

  He raises a brow. “Driving what? You don’t have a car.”

  I wish he’d stop remembering things I’ve said because he just uses them later to annoy me.

  “Gavin’s car.”

  “Responsible.” He cups my elbow, not letting me say another word, guiding me through the kitchen but not stopping at my intended target. He continues through to another room, where the moonlight is the only thing illuminating the space.

  “Colson, I need to grab a beer for Gavin.” I look around, but we’re not alone.

  Moans and lips smacking together permeate the quiet as Colson leads us toward the front of the house. Mostly everyone is in the back where the pool and foosball tables are.

  When the music starts to fade further away and no one else is around, he lets me go, letting me take in the space. I’m not sure what room this is, it looks like a small nook or a walk-in closet that’s the size of my room.

  “Now I can hear you a little better,” Colson voices.

  “Didn’t you hear what I said before? I need to grab a drink for Gavin.”

  “Yeah, but I can’t enjoy mine while you’re judging me with your eyes,” he argues, bringing his cup to his lips.

  “It’s dark in here, you can’t even see my eyes.”

  “No, but I can always feel them, Bases.”

  “Not sure what that means,” I counter, knowing exactly what he means because I always catch myself staring at him on the baseball field. When he goes up to the plate, my eyes are constantly busy taking in the muscles of his arms and the way his jaw ticks when the ump yells out a bad call.

  I see everything he does to the point of being stalkerish.

  “What did you want?” I huff, threading a hand through my hair.

  “This Wednesday, are you free? I know you help your mom on Tuesdays, and you have softball camp coming up.”

  “For what?”

  “Our project,” he replies slowly.

  I shift my weight to my right foot. “You said you were going to start it.”

  “I didn’t even get a copy of our outline, you wrote it all down.”

  “I can just give it to you in class on Monday,” I retort.

  He exhales a heavy sigh. “Do you want a fucking A or not, Bases? Quit making this harder than it needs to be.”

  “I don’t need to be attached to your ass, Hayes, and babysit while you write, do I?”

  “Nah, you’re already Gavin�
�s keeper,” he retorts sourly. “And I’m a big boy, I don’t fucking need one.”

  “Oh, yeah,” I mock. “You’re a responsible adult who pays bills and works a full-time job, aren’t you? Wait...you’re not. You’re an immature jerk who sits at home thinking of ways to make people’s lives a living and breathing hell on Earth.”

  “I haven’t done shit to you in over a week,” he snaps. “Appreciate the fuck out of it.”

  “I still have girls sending death glares my way, Colson. And now, I get to be seen with you outside of class, which makes things twenty times worse.”

  “Fight back, you were doing a good job with Misty.”

  “Her name is Mandy,” I seize. “And I don’t want to have to fight back. I just want to do my own thing and stay under the radar at school.”

  “Sounds boring as fucking hell,” he dismisses. “And you sound like a broken record with that shit.”

  “It’s what I want.”

  He scoffs loudly, looking over my shoulder. “I beg to differ on that one too.”

  “Again, Riddler, not sure what you’re—”

  “If I had a dollar for every time you eye fucked me during baseball practice—” he returns his focus on me. “—I’d be a fucking millionaire.”

  I set my lips in a hard line. “You’ve probably heard this a thousand times, but you think too highly of yourself, Hayes. You’re nothing special. Just another player who’s going to be nonexistent the day you graduate.”

  He smirks. “Love how you didn’t deny it.”

  “Would it even matter? You think I’m the plague. I don’t have to go into our crap, but let’s get one little thing straight.” I step closer to him, hearing Taylor’s previous words echo in my head. “Word on the street is that someone is jealous that his best friend doesn’t spend any time with him anymore. That he’s picking on a girl to get her to bug off.”

  “Don’t step into territory that you’re not ready to delve into,” Colson leisurely warns. “Trust me, you’re not geared up for it.”

  I tsk. “I think the only thing you haven’t done is get me expelled. Is that your grand finale?” Colson stares at me, towering over me by a few inches, but I’m not scared of him, not anymore.

  Somewhere in our feud, I found the courage to face the big bad wolf. Maybe it’s because I’ve been tormented so many times that I'm used to the impact every time he does it.

  He steps closer to me, the faint smell of weed, beer, and Colson. Danger and rebellion dressed in jeans and a white T-shirt with a red flannel over it.

  “The grand finale, Bases,” he mutters so lowly that I have to perk my ears to make sure I hear every single word. “Is for you to kiss me like you were supposed to the first time.”

  Ten years ago

  I’m high as hell, but I’m aware of every single word that spills from my lips.

  And I let them fall.

  In the beginning, everything Sawyer just said was true. I wanted my best friend to be by my side and not hers, knowing the aftermath would be a broken heart if their relationship continued into something more than a quick fuck. But over time, things changed.

  I changed.

  No longer could I ignore the way my body hummed when she was near me. Or how I loved when she purposely dodged me even though I could already feel her in the room. That gravitational pull tugging me in her direction like it always does. Everything about her speaks to me like she was sent for a reason.

  And I don’t want to get rid of her now. I just want her to be free of Gavin.

  My best friend.

  I don’t know what’s worse, my not giving a shit that it’s selfish and screwed up that I want her for myself or the realization that I’ve done too much fucked-up shit to make it work between us.

  It couldn’t work. I have plans already set in stone, I’m just waiting for the ticket and my suitcase to be packed.

  It doesn’t help when her lucent eyes are peering up at me like she wants to kiss me. Silently fighting with herself just as I’ve been doing all along. We both know it’s like a damn bad movie, the tearjerker, the one where star-crossed whatevers will never be together. I won’t give up on my future, and she’ll unintentionally get me to stay.

  She pulls on me that hard.

  But my curiosity is beyond piqued, its ravenous to feel her lips against mine. Even if it’s one kiss, that’s all I need.

  “What would you do if I kissed you right now?” She blinks, searching my face for any sort of humor or cynicism.

  She won’t find any.

  I’m as serious as the damn British guards with the tall hats. Except I’d move to yank Sawyer Boyd into my body and show her how sincere I am.

  “Wh-what?”

  “I don’t like repeating myself,” I reply, inching closer to her.

  “You were just...kissing a girl a minute ago. A beautiful girl. I should be the last thing on your mind.”

  “But you’ve been the first thing on my mind lately, and think about it. Red hair?” She jerks her shocked features away and peers over my shoulder in thought. “Bases…” I take another step, but her hand comes up to meet my chest.

  “You’re drunk.”

  “Buzzed,” I correct. “And high.” I cup my palm over her hand laying on my chest, and a soft gasp leaves her lips.

  Wrapping my fingers around her small hand, I gently pull it away, moving it over to my hip to remove the barricade she placed there. Closing the distance between us, her chest brushing my upper ribs.

  She doesn’t belong here, this isn’t her scene, but I’m glad she came tonight. I substituted her for a lookalike because I needed something close to the real thing. But it did nothing to keep me satisfied, and just like that, I felt it.

  Sawyer.

  My fingers extend along her back, brushing the thin T-shirt she’s wearing. “You’re so fucking sexy tonight.”

  “I’m wearing jeans and a T-shirt,” she counters with furrowed brows.

  “Just like at that other party when you danced with me,” I voice. “When you said you’d never forget me.”

  “That was part of the song, Hayes.”

  “You looked me right in the eyes,” I continue. “And do you remember what I said?”

  That boring ass Logan wasn’t going to do it for her. And the next time she smiled like that, it’s going to be because of me. That she’d be on my arm at a party like this. And no motherfucker was going to tear her away from me.

  Her focus never leaves my chest as I tilt her chin up with my index finger and thumb, brushing the soft skin there. “Was I that scary?” She nods weakly.

  I’m a dickhead, I’ll be the first one to admit it. It was the plan, and I succeeded. I just didn’t plan to somersault into a mild obsession for her.

  “Did you want to kiss me that night?” I ask gently, my fingers tracing the curve of her neck while I pull her closer with the other hand. “Because I wish you would’ve. I haven’t been able to get it out of my mind. I can still see you on your tiptoes, pressing your lips to his instead of mine. I remember the party, you dancing around like an idiot. Your hair in your face, and how you didn’t give two shits that you were the only one who liked the song.”

  “It was a good song,” she mutters.

  I angle my lips into her neck. “Sure, if you like mainstream punk music.” She pushes at my chest, but it’s not enough. It's a feeble attempt to make it feel like she’s trying to resist this.

  Us.

  I’m a fucking tornado, and she’s the sun after the storm, the hope that things will be okay afterward.

  “Colson, we shouldn’t...”

  “Why?” My mouth hovers over her skin, and I force myself to stay put, not to rush her. I don’t want her as uncomfortable as I am right now. I’m fighting for control over my body that is on the verge of quivering at her being so close to me.

  “Gavin.”

  “He’s a fucking tool,” I growl. She inhales deeply, her breasts brushing along my T-shirt.
r />   “I’m good with that.” I pull away from her, and her fingers death grip my forearms. “Colson…”

  “Hm?

  “I can’t,” she says. “I’m not that person.”

  I can respect that.

  Sort of.

  I don’t want to, but I also don’t want her in an inner turmoil of regret over me. So, I’ll wait for her to come to me.

  If I can last that long.

  “Why did you pick him over me?”

  “Gavin is nice,” she mumbles.

  I scoff and straighten my back. “He isn’t nice, Bases. He’s a class A douchebag who can’t keep his eyes off other chicks.” I stride back, but Sawyer holds me in place, and I avert my eyes from looking at her.

  “And what am I?” she counters. “He’s downstairs, and I’m up here with you, in a...whatever this is. With a dozen girls who are, more than likely, coming up with a plan to jump me if I step foot outside this house alone.”

  I don’t answer her, which makes her pull back so that she can grab my attention. But she stays grounded, anguishly close to me.

  She’s better than him, I know that.

  “What am I?”

  “You’re a fucking siren that wants to be claimed by someone who’ll appreciate you,” I bite out. “Who worships the ground you walk on but makes you work for it. You don’t like easy but, at the same time, you’re scared as hell to go off the deep end.”

  “I’m comfortable with who I am.”

  “Comfortable is monotonous,” I dismiss. “You’re not boring.”

  “Yes, I am.”

  I shake my head. “No, you’re not. You don’t even come close.” I can’t breathe or move, my body’s malfunctioning from our proximity.

  “It doesn’t matter,” she refutes, gradually letting her fingers fall from my arm. “You can’t be those things for me.”

  “I want to,” I allude. I let out a heavy breath. “Fuck, I want to, I just can’t have you. I can’t have you scattering my mind when I have things I want to do. I can’t have you wanting to—”