11. Cobb

CHAPTER 11

COBB

N ot kissing Monroe again last night might've been the hardest thing I'd ever done.

I walked her out to her car, told her to let me know she got home safely. All of that and it sure as fuck felt like boyfriend shit.

If only I didn't have the New York situation hanging over my head. It wouldn't be fair to bring her into that—if she'd even come. I had a feeling that there was more to the ex-asshole story than she was letting on, considering she'd said that they'd barely dated, yet he'd fucked her confidence when it came to picking men. Or was it that he hadn't been her first bad decision, according to her? In my eyes, she was blameless.

After packing my bag and heading to the field, I realized that I hadn't mentioned how long we'd be gone. This was only a three-game series, so I'd be back in a couple of days.

Why did I want her to know that? I hadn't told any of my other friends.

But I couldn't kid myself anymore that Monroe was like any other friends, even if we'd only known each other a matter of days. It wasn't like I'd fallen in love with her, but the problem was that I could. Easily.

That was a problem for me.

Once I was on the bus, I pulled my phone out to text her and there was already one waiting from her.

Have fun on your trip. See you in a few days.

After telling her that I would, I realized that she must've looked at the schedule to know it'd only be a few days, but a jolt ran through me at the fact that it seemed a given we'd see each other.

"Texting Monroe?" Brooks asked as he dropped into the seat next to me.

The way the team worked, we took a team bus to the airport, where we got on the team plane. Then a team bus took us to our hotel or the park or wherever we were going. There were so many rules on road trips. For example, wives, girlfriends, and partners couldn't even stay at the same hotel. Except Amity because she was part of the team. As the assistant travel secretary, she sometimes went on the road with the team, but it wasn't like she could share a room with Silas.

"She texted me to have a good trip. That's it." I slowly slid my phone back into my pocket to fight the temptation to keep texting.

"I like her," he told me. "She seems great. Where'd you meet her?"

I sighed. As my big brother, he wasn't going to let this go. Fuck. People talked about how tough it must've been for Camden to grow up with four older brothers, but no one said shit about being the youngest brother.

"Coffee place across from the courthouse."

"Something to do with her being arrested?" He shook his head. "I cannot imagine that woman as a criminal."

I snorted. "She showed me all of her mugshots." He laughed out loud. "But I see what you're saying."

"She just looks like such a good girl. I seriously can't picture it, but hey." He bumped my shoulder with his. "At least they were for good causes, right?"

"Sure." I didn't care why she'd been arrested at this point, but he wasn't wrong. She wasn't out there doing shit for no reason. Monroe was actually trying to make the world a better place.

"So what's going on with the two of you?"

The bus pulled away from the corner and we were on our way.

"We're friends."

He snorted. "You almost choked to death on water because she said she was already wet last night."

"No, I didn't." Yes, I had. "She'd been in the pool."

Now he sighed and sounded so much like a disappointed dad. "Cobb, come on. It's me you're talking to. Why are you fighting this with her? You clearly want her. You look at her like she's the sweetest piece of cake. I know you too well for you to bullshit me."

As I pinched the bridge of my nose and closed my eyes, I knew that he wasn't going to drop it. "Because of the New York thing. I don't want to bring anyone else into that with me. If it gets out, you guys will already be involved. No room for anyone else."

"Please." He scoffed. "All of us know it's not true and wouldn't give a shit. I mean, you're the kid who carried a baby doll around. Pretending to feed it, change its diaper. You did that until you were fourteen."

I rolled my eyes. "I was five." Not even close to fourteen. By fourteen, I'd been thinking about girls and when I'd lose my virginity and how to do that without creating a real baby.

He snickered because he knew damn well it hadn't been age fourteen. "What I'm saying is that you're the most nurturing of the bunch. We all know you wouldn't do this. Now if it was me… there'd be questions. Babies freak me out and I don't know what to do with them."

"You'd figure it out and I can't imagine any of us leaving a woman pregnant with one of our kids on her own."

"No. That's true." He quickly wet his lips. "I'm just saying not to let this bullshit hold up any part of your life. Sure, it means you're here and I can't say I'm sad about that. I like all of us on the same team and now that you're here, it's unlikely you'll be leaving unless you decide to become a free agent when your contract expires."

"I could do that." Though I didn't really want to. There were too many unknowns with free agency.

"You could." He nodded then looked me in the eye. "But you'd have to stay at the level you are now. No slumps, probably take a pay cut because Mom is going to offer you a fuck ton of money."

"Yeah." And as much as I hated to admit it, I liked us all being on the same team. "I don't know what will happen. I've got time to think about it."

"Besides…" He put one earbud in his ear. "By that point, Monroe will be a factor and I bet you won't want to leave." Then he slipped the second one in and closed his eyes so that no matter what I said, he wouldn't hear it or know that I was saying it.

Asshole.

The flight was short, the hotel nice, but we were whisked off to the ballpark pretty much as soon as we'd gotten checked in. We had a game to prepare for. Well, they did. I had a workout to do. I was set to pitch tomorrow, which meant I needed to do a practice run today. Make sure my mechanics were on par.

At this point, it was mostly muscle memory.

I did everything I was supposed to then had lunch with my brothers and headed to the game. We'd snack a little before the game, or they would because I wasn't playing, to make sure they had the energy. We'd have a late dinner. That was just how it was on game days.

The game was… rough. It wasn't that the other team was playing harder, it was that we were both playing the hardest and were pretty evenly matched. In the end, they won with a two-run walk-off.

Rough, but their fans loved it.

After showering, we got on the bus back to the hotel, then I ordered room service and decided to call Monroe while I waited.

I was thinking about her too much and shouldn't have called her at all.

Friendship was hard. Or at least it was when you desperately wanted to get that friend naked.

So maybe don't call her. Fuck, I didn't know.

My head was tight and starting to hurt.

If I called her, maybe she'd only take it as a friendship thing. Could she take it as anything else? Of course, but I didn't think she would. She wasn't showing any signs of wanting anything more than friendship, that was clear.

Not calling her didn't say anything. She probably wasn't expecting it, but fuck, I wanted to.

So I would.

Right after I'd let room service in with my food. I had the guy set it on the table, then once he was gone, I sat down, propped my phone up on the vase of flowers, and chose Monroe's contact for a video call.

Her beautiful freckled face answered on the second ring.

"Hey," she answered, her strawberry-blonde ponytail swaying from left to right, which meant she was moving.

"Hey. You busy?"

She flopped down onto her stomach on a bed. "Nope. Just at home. Nothing exciting. How was your game?"

"Fine. We lost."

Her brows pinched together. "Sorry."

"It's fine," I said with a shrug. "Can't win them all."

"That's true." She reached back and tugged on whatever was holding her hair, allowing those waves to cascade around her. I paused the bite of chicken halfway to my mouth. The corners of her mouth turned up. Clearly, she'd noticed.

So I took the damn bite. As she spoke, she moved so that she was sitting up with her back against the headboard. I'd been to her place, but not into her bedroom, so I couldn't know for sure that was hers. But she'd said she was at home, so it had to be.

She squinted her eyes at the phone. "Are you eating?"

"Yeah." I chewed some more then swallowed. "Just got back to the hotel and ordered room service."

"Doesn't that get expensive?"

"We get a per diem on the road, but I don't think about it much." Then I paused. "That's such a rich kid thing to say."

She shrugged. "It's fine. I understand, anyway. It's not like I grew up worrying about food or safety."

"Is that why you protest?"

She took a deep breath and her eyes stayed on the phone before she answered. "No one's ever asked me that yet. I come from a place of privilege and want to make the world a better place in the ways that I can. I don't get the same treatment as others and I want to use that for good."

"What do you mean, you don't get the same treatment?" I continued to eat as we talked.

"Well, I was arrested the second time with a woman my age who happened to not look like me. I was out that night, but she was there for days. When I found out, I asked my dad to help. He did and got her out as well as the charges dropped. But it shouldn't take her happening to know someone with a lawyer dad."

She was right. It shouldn't.

Now, all of us donated to charity, but it felt like there was more I could have been doing. Maybe that was something I'd have Monroe help me with. But later.

"Does your dad do pro bono a lot?"

She shook her head. "He does some, but he's in high demand and there isn't always time." Then she sighed. "What about you? What are you doing tonight?"

I pointed the fork at my plate. "This."

"What?" She giggled. "Aren't you like a young, hot, baseball stud phenomenon? Aren't you supposed to be clubbing it up? Going home with a bunch of women?"

Now it was my turn to laugh. She really had no idea what this life was like. "No," I said through my laughter. Once I'd calmed down, I continued. "Not at all. Even if I were, I wouldn't. That's not my thing. I mean, I am young and a baseball phenomenon—though I'd never call myself that—and if you say I'm hot, I'll take it." Her cheeks pinked up when she realized she had said that. "But clubbing? No. I don't even like parties." And the last one I'd been to had bitten me in the ass. "A bunch of women? No thanks."

She rolled her eyes playfully. "You're in your prime. If not now, when?"

"We have rules on the road. We have to be in the hotel at a certain time… all that shit. But seriously, ask my brothers or Camden. None of that was ever me."

"Rules?" She sat up straighter. "What kind of rules?"

I went on to explain to her that we were required to travel with the team, be in the hotel at a certain time, partners of any kind weren't allowed in the same hotel. All of that. She held on to every word that I was saying until she sighed then poked at her phone.

"What's wrong?"

Then she groaned. "Nothing. I just have to block another number."

I furrowed my brows. "What are you talking about?"

She nibbled on the corner of her mouth and blinked a whole bunch of times. If she didn't want to tell me, she didn't have to, but I very much wanted to know.

"I sometimes get these random texts and they have to be from Owen, but they aren't from his number."

"Owen?"

She groaned and dropped her head back. "Ex-dickhead."

My stomach tightened and my fingers held the fork more firmly.

"Why's he texting you?"

"You don't want to know."

My eyes narrowed on her. "I assure you, I very much want to know." It was hard to keep the concern and anger out of my voice. I had no right to feel protective of her or possessive, yet here I was feeling both.

"Fine." She didn't sound that happy. "In this case, he wants me to know that paying for the damage wasn't enough."

My jaw tightened. "What does it actually say?"

She rolled her eyes again but tapped at the phone. "‘You might think Daddy can buy your way out of all of your trouble, but I assure you, that's not the case.'" She dropped back against the pillow again. "OK?"

"Not OK. That sounds threatening. What's up with this guy? Why didn't you date him longer?"

"For the same reason I threw the brick at his car," she said. We held in a stare-down. I'd wait her out all night if I had to. There had to have been more. I mean sure, who would want someone like him, especially when she had two dads, but that didn't make sense for him to keep texting. "Fine. He was a controlling asshole. We were on a date—though we only went on, like, four or five—and I saw someone I know. A guy. He freaked out in the car that I was talking to another man while out with him. Or talking to another man at all."

"Is that all?" I asked through clenched teeth.

"He had a three-date rule."

"What the fuck is that?"

"If you don't have sex with him on the third date, you're not worth his time. For some reason, he made an exception for me because we went out on more than three and I never had sex with him, but after the third date, it was mentioned each time."

"Fucking Christ." I sat back, suddenly no longer hungry as the rage flowing through me was enough to feed me. "That's bullshit."

"Exactly. And why I stopped seeing him."

"Yeah, but if he's not leaving you alone, that's worrisome. Do you report these texts?"

"Report what?" She snapped to sitting up straight. "They aren't threatening. I block the number and move on."

I swallowed hard. Was it my place to push this? Yes, because I fucking cared about her. "You should at least tell your dads."

Her eyes widened and she snapped her fingers. "Did I tell you that I'm bringing my dads to the next home game?" she asked, changing the subject. "I have to see if Dad has his season tickets. He usually gives away the ones he doesn't think he's going to attend, but if not, I'll buy some. You don't have to meet them or anything, I—"

"Don't buy any. If he doesn't have them, I'll get some from my mom." But I knew what she'd done there. She'd changed the subject because she didn't want me to push her on telling her dads.

I'd let it go for now.

"Your mom?"

"Yeah," I told her. "She always has tickets held back until game day to give to people, business associates, giveaways, charities, whatever. Just let me know if he has them."

"I will." A small, satisfied smile appeared. She was probably patting herself on the back for getting us off the topic of the ex-dickhead and how I'd let it go. But I wouldn't forget about it.

"I won't be pitching that game. I pitch tomorrow, which is Saturday, so I won't again until our Friday game. It's every fifth game."

"Got it. We're still coming, though."

I chuckled. Clearly, I wasn't the draw or at least not the only one.

"Can I ask you something, Cobb?"

The way she'd said my name shot right to my dick. I wasn't proud of it. "Of course."

"Why'd you kiss me?"

All hope I had of that being ignored washed away. "I don't know," I told her honestly. "I wanted to and it was a serious lapse in judgment. It won't happen again."

Her shoulders fell and I couldn't tell if it was in relief or disappointment. Relief, I would think. She didn't want me kissing her and I'd crossed that boundary.

"Are you sure?" she asked quietly.

"Yeah. I'm sure."

But fuck, I didn't want to be.