23. Monroe

F eeling Cobb underneath me gave me the most powerful feeling. I was in control and it was a heady thing. His hands ran up my sides and I couldn't stop myself from basically dry-humping him right there on the couch. In about two seconds, it was going to be wet-humping.

I was already wet. We just needed to get rid of all of these clothes.

When I leaned back and pulled my shirt over my head, Cobb groaned and let his head fall back.

"I can't," he said, which made me smile and slide myself over his erection.

"I think you can."

His big hand cupped my cheek then slid down my chest, almost purposefully avoiding my breasts.

"I really can't," he said with so much regret. "First, there's not nearly enough time for everything I want to do to you. Second, I can't fuck you right before I start. That'll mess me up."

I hadn't thought of that.

Realizing what he meant, I slid back quickly and crossed my arms over my chest. Why? I didn't know. I was still covered by my bra.

"Sorry," I told him.

He slowly pulled my arms away from me. "No reason to be sorry. I really wish I didn't have a game today." He ran his hands over me. "Fuck. This might mess me up, anyway. It's all I'm going to be thinking about."

"Picture Brooks naked when you pitch to him."

He groaned and ran a hand over his face. "Mood thoroughly killed."

Snickering, I hopped off his lap and pulled my shirt back on. Reluctantly, he got up as well.

"You're coming to the game?"

"I didn't have a plan," I told him honestly. "I wasn't sure how this was going to go."

He cocked his head to the side. "So, you're coming to the game?"

Now that made me laugh. "Yeah, I'm coming to the game. It's the first time I'll see you pitch live."

"And if I fuck up, you'll know it's your fault."

I dropped my mouth open. "How dare you."

"Come on," he said once he'd stopped laughing as he grabbed my hand. "I have to pack my bag. You can come with me."

Inside his room, I kicked off my shoes, which I normally did at the door. I hadn't this time because I hadn't known I was staying. Then I climbed up onto his bed and settled myself right in the middle with my legs out straight in front of me. A black duffle bag sat on the end of the bed.

"Fuck." He sighed. "I like seeing you in my bed. I really wish we didn't have a game."

I shrugged. "But we have after the game, right?"

"Yes, we fucking do."

"What are you packing?" Some of this was still very new to me.

"Anything I might need while I'm at the park. Clothes for after I shower. That kind of thing."

"You don't just put what you're wearing back on?"

"Sometimes, but I'm not putting dirty underwear back on."

Yeah, that made sense. We continued like that until the bag was done and he zipped it up. Then he crawled over me.

"You're not supposed to be doing this," I said, though my breathing had already quickened.

"You're too tempting."

"I'm just sitting here."

Cobb dropped his head to my chest and asked, "Do you want me to leave a ticket at will call?"

"Can I let you know?" I asked. "I'll see if my dads are going. I can always tag along with them."

"Then leave with me after?"

"Absolutely."

Unfortunately, no matter how badly the two of us wanted to stay like we were, he had to get to the field. After walking me to my car, he headed to his.

My dads were planning on going to the game and hadn't invited anyone else, so they had a ticket for me.

We were driving to the field when Dad said, "I heard back from Owen's uncle today."

"You did?" My stomach tightened and there were butterflies suddenly flapping around my chest and not the good kind you got when your crush talked to you.

"I did. It's handled. You shouldn't hear from him again."

I furrowed my brows. "Did you have him killed?"

Papa laughed, but Dad said, "Jesus Christ, Monroe, no. I explained to the uncle that we'd not only file a protection order, but I'd sue the hell out of him for harassment. He's not going to be charged for filing the false report, which I wanted him to be, but for the same of this being over, I'm going to let it go. I also mentioned releasing the doorbell camera. It's an election year, so…"

"Well, good. Whatever it takes to get him to leave me alone," I said. Dad hit the brakes hard, sending me into the back of Papa's seat. "For the record, I wasn't against you having him killed. I would just want to know about it."

Papa continued to laugh, but Dad let out a frustrated groan. "Don't say that stuff to me. I really don't want to have to defend you."

I scoffed. "I didn't say I would have him killed."

Figuring that was enough torture of my dads for the night, I sat back and enjoyed the ride. I even remembered to grab the lanyard pass that Camden had given me before, which meant I could go down to wait near the clubhouse for Cobb after the game because one thing was for sure.

I wasn't going home with my dads.

Camden glanced back as we took our seats and waved. I'd heard that everyone liked her and it made sense. She was an easy person to like.

"So you're all good with Cobb?" Papa asked.

"I'm all good with Cobb. We worked it out."

"You don't have to say it like that," Dad countered, causing Papa to chuckle.

My brows pinched together. "Say it like what?"

"I'm all good." He made it sound so suggestive.

"That's disgusting," I said seriously and shook my head at him. I wasn't serious, but this made it funnier.

Both teams came out to line the baseline for the national anthem and we all stood as well. It was my first glimpse of Cobb since I'd left his apartment earlier.

Can we just all appreciate baseball uniforms?

"Baseball pants are nice, aren't they?" Papa whispered, which made me focus on something else entirely.

"Dad's going to kill you," I whispered back. But then the music played and we both quieted down.

The girl they had singing it today couldn't have been more than fourteen and she belted out those notes like she'd been doing it her entire life. It was amazing. At the end, most of the place cheered.

But the team headed back to their dugout. Cobb looked up and saw me. The corners of his mouth turned up as he nodded and his teeth sunk into his bottom lip. Heat whooshed over me.

The man was beautiful and the fact that he seemed to only have eyes for me made my knees weak.

As we were sitting back down, Papa said, "Well, you can't deny that was adorable."

"Pft," Dad responded. "I can."

"Oh, come on, Jonathan," he said with laughter in his voice.

"What?" He took a drink of his beer. "I can deny anything I want."

"The man clearly cares about our daughter."

"We'll see."

I sighed. Papa was the more romantic of the two and Dad was always skeptical. Probably came with his profession, but even I could hear that there was humor in Dad's voice.

Cobb was on the mound throwing some practice pitches. He'd stretch his shoulders and neck every couple of pitches.

And the game began.

I'd never fully appreciated baseball before this moment. Watching the guys play was awe inspiring. The fact that they they'd all built their bodies up with the power to do what they were doing… Amazing.

By the third inning, Cobb hadn't given up a hit, though Kalamazoo had two runs. Every time Cobb threw a ball, the smack of it against Brooks's glove startled me.

"Doesn't that hurt Brooks's hand?" I asked.

"Nah," Papa said. "He has a special glove, remember?" The last couple of weeks, I'd been asking a lot of questions and learning a ton. I'd learned over the years, but not like since I'd met Cobb.

"Right. But Cobb throws hard, doesn't he?"

"He does. If you look up there." He pointed to the score board. "The number under Cobb's picture is the speed. It's miles per hour."

"So that last pitch was ninety-seven miles per hour?" I asked. Papa nodded. "I've never even driven that fast."

"Now that is good to hear," Dad told me.

For the next pitch, I watched Cobb release it then checked the speed. Then I did it for every pitch after that.

In the seventh inning, Cobb was on the verge of walking a batter. Three balls, two strikes. Full count, as they say, but if he walked him, it would mean the other team got their first man on base. That wasn't great.

Cobb shook his head at Brooks three times, then Brooks's shoulder slumped for a second and Cobb nodded. He finally liked the pitch call that Brooks had made.

It was all going rather well, then Cobb released the ball.

I think every single person heard that ball hit the glove and then then ref said it was a strike.

When I glanced up at the scoreboard, the number I saw took my breath away.

"Holy shit." I leaned forward, then looked at Papa. "Did he really just throw that a hundred and one miles per hour?"

"He sure did." Papa grinned widely. "He had to get that batter out."

The music started up for the seventh inning stretch, but we didn't stand up.

"Looks like we've got a no-no going, Jonathan."

"It does."

"What's a no-no?" I asked. There were still so many terms that didn't make any sense to me. "What's a no-no?" They weren't answering me quick enough.

Papa leaned in close and whispered, "It's a no hitter. But you're not supposed to talk about it or acknowledge it. It's bad luck."

I cocked my head to the side. "Like saying ‘Macbeth' in a theater?"

"Exactly."

"But it's a big deal?"

"It's a huge deal," Dad told me. "They're not unheard of, but it's also not common. Most pitchers don't pitch full games so it's usually a combined one. As in, none of the pitchers allowed a hit. But I think Cobb's finishing this game."

"His pitch count is low," Papa added.

I sat back and listened to my dads debate over how the rest of the game was going to go and just how good my boyfriend was at what he did. But all I could think about was how good my boyfriend was going to be once we got back to his place.

In the top of the eighth inning, the batter tipped off back at Brooks. Brooks took off to catch it and slid into the railing of the other dugout. To me, it looked like his knee hit, but he caught the ball and hopped back up.

Then he took one step and hit the ground like someone had just unloaded a pile of bricks.

The Briggs men on the field took off running toward their brother. Urban got to him first, then Cobb, then Silas. Even the short stop, Jenner Greene, skidded to a stop before running into him. Camden had told me that Jenner had been around since forever because he was Silas's best friend from when they'd been little. She'd rolled her eyes the entire time.

Cobb waved someone over and people surrounded Brooks.

"What happened?" I asked no one in particular.

"Looks like he got hurt," Dad said. "But how?"

"I think his knee hit the railing or the ground."

Suddenly, I couldn't remember what I'd seen. That was when I popped up from my seat and hurried down the aisle, passing in front of everyone else who was also on their feet. Then I went down the steps until I was near Camden. "Camden!" I called. She came over to me. "Is he hurt?"

She nodded. "Looks like it." Worry lined her face. "It's unusual because Brooks is never hurt. I mean, he gets bruised up, but never something to take him out of the game."

Before I could ask anything else, Cobb was under one of Brooks's arms and Silas under the other while Urban had his helmet and glove. They slowly made their way back to the dugout. Then everyone minus Brooks went back out onto the field and another catcher was at the plate.

Cobb threw a couple of practice pitches as I said, "What does this mean?"

"I don't know." Camden sighed. "It depends on what's hurt and how badly."

"Can I do anything?"

She shook her head. "They have the best doctors. Mom's probably already down there. He'll be all right."

"OK." I squeezed her arm. "Call me if anyone needs anything. I'm happy to help."

"Yeah." She took a deep breath. "You'll probably have to help Cobb later." Fighting a grin, she added, "No. Seriously. When a player gets hurt, it shakes them all. Reminds them of what can happen."

I smiled widely at her. "I'll do my best."

Then I returned to my dads.

Cobb did finish the game and it was a no-hitter just like Papa had predicted. They left after I assured them I was going out with Cobb tonight. All night? I mean… probably, but I didn't know yet.

At first, I was going to head downstairs, but then I saw Cobb come back out of the dugout and over to someone with a microphone. The on-field interview. After a no-hitter, that was a given, I suppose.

I made my way closer to where they were near third base. He was talking animatedly then caught me out of the corner of his eyes and smiled but focused back on the reporter.

When he was finished, he came over to me, but some other fans were hurrying toward us. "Meet me downstairs. I want to go check on Brooks."

"OK. I'll meet you down there."

I didn't hurry because it wasn't like Cobb would be there immediately. But once I'd gotten down there, I found a spot out of the way and sat on the floor to play on my phone. I'd taken some pictures during the game and decided that one I'd captured of him pitching was going to become my background.

Not knowing how much time had passed, I startled when he said, "Hey."

After jumping, I hopped up onto my feet and smiled. "How's Brooks?"

"He'll be all right." He reached out and took my had to lead me toward the door. "It's a muscle strain around the knee. He'll be out a little bit, but not forever." He pushed through the door to the outside.

"How long is ‘a little bit'?"

"Normally, it'd be a few games, but we're going into the All-Star break, so he'll be out these two games, then five days off. Probably be back after that."

I stopped where I was. "You get five days off?"

He chuckled and gave me a tug. "No. Baseball does, but I'm playing in the All-Star game, as are my brothers, though not Brooks now."

There was still so much to learn.

We arrived at his car and he threw two bags into the back seat while I climbed into the passenger side. Then he got behind the wheel.

"Where is the game?" I asked because I hadn't looked it up in those short moments.

"Cincinnati."

I squeed, making him laugh again. "I could go, then, right? I mean, if tickets are available. That's an easy drive."

"Yeah. You can go. Camden's coming. My parents are coming." He groaned. "I'm sure they have a ticket, but that means being around my parents in the box."

I had to think about that. I hadn't met his mom or dad, only heard of then and his dad didn't sound pleasant. I'd make it work.

"Camden will be there. As I'm sure will Everly and Amity. You wouldn't be alone with them and I'll knock my dad out if he's a dick to you."

"I wouldn't want that," I countered. "I can handle dicks."

Cobbs loud laughter filled the car. "Oh, I know you can." I pushed him. That wasn't what I'd meant.

"Will Brooks be there?"

He shook his head. "He'll have to stay behind to rehab his knee." This was nice. It was easy. There was only one dark cloud still hanging over us. "I have some news, though." He reached out to caress my cheek. "I saw my mom when I checked on Brooks. She took me aside to let me know that the Hannah situation is over. My lawyer confronted her and her lawyer with some information the investigator got."

"They work quickly," I told him. I'd never been involved in anything like this so maybe it was normal and I just didn't know it.

"Yeah, well she confessed who the real father is and my mom got her dad to promise that they wouldn't bring me into their bullshit anymore."

I launched right into his arms, wrapping mine around his neck and squeezing. "Really?"

He held on to me tightly. It was awkward, given the position in the front seat of his car. "Really."

When I pulled back, the emergency brake digging into my knee, I asked, "So, who's the real father?"

He sighed. "I guess it's a friend of her dad's." I scrunched up my nose. "That's why she knew he'd be pissed."

"That's kind of gross."

"It is."

I worried my bottom lip between my teeth. "Does that mean you'll go back to New York?"

He ran a hand across my cheek. "No, Baby. I was traded here so I'll be staying here."

A satisfied smile appeared. "I have one more question," I said. He raised an eyebrow. "How quickly can you get us back to your apartment so we can finish what we started earlier and do you need to eat first? Okay, that's two questions."

His nostrils flared and he wet his bottom lip. "Put your seatbelt on because I can get us there pretty fucking quick."

I clapped my hands at the answer I'd wanted and slid back into my seat.

"And we'll order food later."

Before I could get my seatbelt on, Cobb grabbed the back of my neck and pulled me to him then pressed his mouth to mine. His mouth was hot and demanding and pushing me to the point that I was about to climb into his lap again.

He rested his forehead against mine. "I fucking love you, Monroe."

The biggest grin spread across my face. "I love you, Cobb." Then I pulled back so he'd see that I was serious. "Now get us back to your place before I take advantage of you right here," I said. He snorted. "What? I'm needy."

A deep, sexy noise rumbled in his chest as he threw the car in reverse, pressing me against the seat. I pulled the seatbelt on right as he turned out of the parking garage.

I'd assumed meeting Cobb in that coffee shop was chance. Right now, I was starting to think that maybe it was fate.

I'd never given fate a second thought. Things happened. That was it.

But putting me there that day with Cobb was either fate or the best luck of my life.