Fastball (Stadium Series Book 3) Read online

  Fastball

  Stadium Series #3

  S.A. Clayton

  Copyright © 2021 by S.A. Clayton

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  Want a FREE book?

  Join my newsletter and get a FREE copy of my short story Wounded Hearts! Download HERE

  Contents

  1. Harper

  2. Josh

  3. Harper

  4. Josh

  5. Harper

  6. Josh

  7. Harper

  8. Josh

  9. Harper

  10. Josh

  11. Harper

  12. Josh

  13. Harper

  14. Josh

  15. Harper

  16. Harper

  17. Harper

  18. Josh

  19. Josh

  20. Harper

  About the Author

  Also by S.A. Clayton

  1

  Harper

  A Rolodex of pictures continues to filter through my brain. Over and over again I see image after image of Josh and me, all in different stages of undress, all extremely revealing and embarrassing.

  This happens every night.

  Falling asleep has become harder and harder because my brain doesn’t shut off the possibilities of who is doing this to us and why it keeps getting worse and worse. Every night Josh holds me, whispering encouraging words in my ear as I pretend to fall asleep. Does he know I fake it until he drifts off behind me? Probably not, but right now I try every trick in the book because those pictures are haunting me and nothing I do seems to quiet the storm inside my head.

  After a few hours, I drift off, waiting for the haunting dreams to start. The ones where the pictures leak, where Josh loses everything and in turn, I lose the best thing that’s ever happened to me. But tonight is different. Tonight’s dream morphs from a nightmare to a flip-book of the worst horrors of my childhood, and before long I’m knee-deep in one of the worst nightmares I’ve had in decades.

  I shoot up out of bed, soaking in sweat and shaking. My eyes struggle to adjust to the darkness as I try and find something to ground myself to this reality. The pads of Josh’s fingers graze my back and I jump at the contact.

  “Shh, sweetheart, it’s just me.”

  I look over, the exhausted look in his eyes evident, yet the worry creeps through enough for the guilt to set in. I take a deep breath, trying to calm down as I struggle to get the remnants of the dream off my skin.

  “It’s okay,” I lie. “I’m fine.”

  I don’t say anything else as I get out of bed and make my way out of Josh’s bedroom and into the kitchen. I don’t turn on any lights, letting the glow of the moon through the windows cast an eerie film over the space. The darkness of the dream starts to surround me as I shudder, trying to shake the image of my father’s lifeless body from my brain. I stayed here tonight because I wanted to see Josh before he went to practice tomorrow, and now I'm regretting it. I haven’t had a nightmare like that for months. I honestly thought they were gone for good, but now the realization that I have to explain to Josh what happened settles in and my stomach plummets. I try and shake the feeling as I get myself a glass of water, leaning back against the counter as Josh walks into the room.

  My eyes catch the clock above the stove. Three a.m., great.

  “You should go back to bed, it’s too early for you to be up,” I mutter.

  Josh’s eyes never leave mine as he sits down at the island, his fingers intertwining as they rest on the cool granite. We sit in silence for a few seconds before I take another drink and place the empty glass in the sink.

  “You're not leaving that spot, are you?”

  He just shakes his head, his eyes pleading for me to say something, anything that will allow him into this moment. Yet the effects of the dream still linger and the idea of talking about this shakes me to my core.

  “Sweetheart, I need you to talk to me. I know this is hard, but I want to help you and I can’t do that if I don’t know what I’m up against.” My eyes cast down, feeling the weight of his gaze as I play with the edge of the counter. “Harper.” He doesn’t sound mad, he sounds concerned and it's that distinction that propels me to the empty seat beside him.

  Without saying a word, I sit down, leaning my head against his shoulder as his arms encase my body, sending a sense of warmth through my veins.

  “This memory isn’t something I talk about… to anyone,” I admit.

  He says nothing, his arms tightening as his lips brush my temple. “You can tell me as much or as little as you want. I just want you to let me in. I hate that I can’t fix this…”

  I take a shuddering breath, realizing how long I’ve waited for someone to say those words to me.

  “You won’t be able to fix this, Josh. Trust me. Years of therapy haven’t gotten rid of the nightmares.”

  He leans back, our eyes meeting and the sense of helplessness that surrounds me is almost overwhelming, so I do the one thing that seems to always calm me down. I lean in and lightly kiss his lips, basking in their softness and I steel myself for what’s about to come out of my mouth.

  “You know that my dad was my hero.”

  He nods slightly, gently curling a stray piece of hair behind my ear.

  “He was everything I wanted to be and more. He made me believe that I could do anything I set my mind to, even become the world’s first female MLB pitcher.”

  Josh smirks, and I can’t help but do the same.

  “I know now that he knew that wasn’t a possibility, but at the time, he never let on. He encouraged me anyway. “God, I’ve already told you most of this anyway…” I mutter, shaking my head and turning away. But his fingers grip my chin and bring my gaze back to his.

  “I don’t care. Harper, get it out if that’s what you need to do. I’ll listen to it over and over again if it helps you get through this.”

  God, I love this man. More and more each and every day. I nod my head and continue.

  “I went to every home game, skipping school when they were during the day, and I’d spend time in the dugout even though it really wasn’t allowed. Dad got away with it because he was Hank Stevens.

  “I loved that field, the vastness of it, the smells, the atmosphere. Everything. It was my favorite place to be until that summer. That’s when my world started to fall apart.”

  Josh’s arms tighten, his lips grazing my ear, whispering, letting me know it was okay to stop. But I know I can’t.

  “I remember his fastball was on fire that day. He was striking out batters left and right. I was so freaking proud of him.”

  Josh chuckles beside me as I smile at the happiness of that memory.

  “It was the fifth inning, he threw a hundred mile an hour fastball that the batter hit directly back at him.” I take a shuddering breath as the tears start to form. I drop my head into my hands, the scenes replaying over and over and over in my mind as Josh’s hands aimlessly run up and down my back. “It hit him so hard that I swear I could hear the sound of the ball hitting his skull.”

  My voice cracks with every word, my breath becomes erratic as the panic starts to set in. Before long I can’t take it anymore, so I get up and start pacing the kitchen, Josh’s concerned eyes continuing to follow my every move.

  “I remember screaming. God, there was so much screaming. Then silence. Utter and complete silence. In all my life, even to this day, I have never hea
rd thousands of people that quiet before. That emptiness still haunts me to this day…” I take another deep breath as Josh comes up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and kissing my neck.

  “Harper…” he mumbles, and I can tell he feels my pain, it’s radiating off his chest and into my own skin. “Was that what you were dreaming about?”

  I wish I could lie and say that it was, I shake my head, knowing I need to get this out before I chicken out.

  “I thought he died that day. And in a way, I wish he had, because the world had another cruel punishment up its sleeve for me. Because instead of losing him that day, I watched my father disappear before my eyes.” I take a deep breath, trying to find the words to continue. “He spent months in the hospital, and they tried to figure out what happened and what the consequences would be. They said he had a traumatic brain injury and I remember rolling my eyes when the doctor said those words because it was so obvious. Even to me. But what came after that was just as traumatic as the ball hitting his skull.”

  Josh’s breath is shallow as his arms tighten even more, pulling me closer to his chest, almost as if he knows that connection is exactly what I need to get through the next part.

  “When they told my father he could never play baseball again, I think a part of him died. That, along with the lasting head injury, the man who came home from the hospital was not my father. He was angry, easily agitated, and hated everything that reminded him of the career he lost. Including me.” I close my eyes at the last memory I have of my father. I wish like hell it was a good memory, but instead it’s of when he told me he never wanted to see my face again. “I think that was one of the worst parts of all of it. Knowing my father hated me before he died.”

  Josh’s breath cascades over the tender skin of my neck as he breathes me in. “Harper, your father did not hate you.”

  I shake my head because he has no idea what I lived through and that’s my fault. I should have told him all of this sooner.

  “Harper.” His voice is strong as his fingers pull my chin so our eyes meet. “He was just dealing with everything in a very unhealthy way.”

  In part I know he’s right, but then there’s the little girl screaming inside, needing him to understand that he wasn’t there listening to all the vile words he threw at me.

  “That’s the thing Josh, it wasn’t just him not playing baseball anymore that made him change. I think it contributed, but the doctors told us that his personality might change, that he could get agitated easily, get angry at the drop of a hat and all of those things happened. He became a different person. The father I knew never yelled, never said a bad word in my direction and yet in those last years of his life, that’s all I knew, and it slowly broke me.”

  I unravel myself from his arms and make my way into the living room.

  “What happened to him?”

  Such a simple question, yet the one I find the hardest to answer. How do you explain something you don’t even really understand yourself?

  As I sit on the couch, Josh sits next to me, taking up all the available space and taking my hands in his. “I woke up one night to screaming. I don’t know where it came from and a part of me doesn’t even think it was real, but it woke me up. I went into the hallway to see if there was anyone around, but the hall was empty. All I could see was the light coming in through his office door, and when I opened that door, my entire life fell apart.”

  I take a steady breath before saying the next part because that memory is still lingering on my skin.

  “When I opened that door, I knew my father was dead. He was slumped forward onto his desk, his eyes open and staring blankly at me and all I could do was scream.”

  “Fuck,” he mutters, lightly pulling me into his lap as he strokes my hair.

  “They said he died of hydrocephalus. Fluid buildup in the brain. He’d been having headaches for weeks and refused to go to the doctor and I guess he was working late that night and just… died.”

  Josh pulls me toward him, his strong arms wrapping around my shoulders, saying nothing.

  “I dream about the way his eyes looked that night. I dream about how pale his skin was, the way the room felt cold when I entered. I used to relive it every time I closed my eyes.”

  He doesn’t say anything for a long time as he just listens to me breathing.

  “Thank you,” he whispers against the side of my head as he picks me up and places me on his lap where I now straddle his hips and wrap my arms around his neck.

  “For what?” I question, my eyes searching his soft ones.

  “For telling me.” He kisses me softly and I try to deepen it, but he pulls away. “I know talking about him isn’t easy for you, I just want you to know that I appreciate you trusting me enough to tell me about him.”

  I look at him bewildered. Never in my life has anyone said something like that to me. Everyone always assumes they are entitled to know what happened because my father was famous. Like that somehow makes it justified. I kiss him again, showing him just how much he means to me in this moment.

  “You’re the only person, besides Mel, that’s allowed me to tell it in my own time.”

  “I love you,” Josh whispers against my hair, my whole body relaxing into him.

  “I love you too.”

  2

  Josh

  There is something rewarding about seeing the sweat pour off my body as I work out at Hard Ball. Usually I spend these workouts at the stadium, working out with my trainers and teammates but right now there’s an incentive walking in front of me in tight yoga pants and a formfitting shirt that has persuaded me to stay here just a little bit longer.

  “You know, it should be illegal for you to look that good all sweaty and gross…”

  The second Harper’s eyes meet mine, I want nothing more than to show her just how gross and sweaty I can be, and how much I know she likes it. But before I can say anything, Henry comes out of his office, eyes me and then calls Harper back into his office. She gives me an apologetic look before I wink as she turns and walks away. My eyes follow her ass and wonder for the millionth time what it would feel like to sink deep inside the one place she’s kept from me. Before I can dwell on my fantasies, my phone buzzes from in front of me on the treadmill and when I see the text is from Harper, I can’t help the shit-eating grin that surfaces.

  Harper: Stop looking at my ass.

  Me: It’s a nice ass.

  Harper: I know what you’re doing. The answer is still no.

  I roll my eyes as I continue to walk on the treadmill, my heart rate slowing with each passing second.

  Me: That’s what you think. I’ll change your mind one day.

  Harper: Keep thinking that, handsome.

  She sends a winking face and it’s at that moment that she steps out of Henry’s office and gives me that slight smirk that she knows drives me crazy. Just as I shut off the treadmill and step off, the front door opens, and my eyes catch the sight of the one person I never expected to see walk into this building.

  TJ.

  What the fuck is he doing here?

  Before I can try and figure it out for myself, I watch as he makes his way into Harper’s office and shuts the door.

  Oh hell no.

  I take my water bottle, feeling the plastic crack beneath my fingers the closer I get to her office door. The second I touch the doorknob, I freeze, straining to hear what is being said.

  “TJ, for the last time, I told you we are not interested.”

  The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end at the tone of Harper’s voice and it takes everything in me to stay put and let her handle this.

  “Come on, Harper…”

  “It’s Miss Stevens to you, and like Henry told you last week, we are not looking for more players to sponsor, so if you could see yourself out...”

  Pride wells up inside my chest at her tone, not just because it’s hot when she uses that boss lady tone, but because I love that she’s directing it t
o the man I am beginning to hate more and more every passing day.

  “You mean the one you’re sleeping with is the only one you want to pay? Is there a clause in his contract that states he has to date you in order to get paid?”

  That’s the last I can handle before I jerk the door open and witness TJ standing just a little too close to my girl. When her eyes meet mine, they’re full of fire. I give her a wink just before my fingers wrap around the back of TJ’s neck and haul him back toward the now open door.

  “I believe the lady told you to leave.”

  He jerks around as a nervous laugh bubbles out of his chest.

  “Of course he comes to your rescue. Typical,” TJ mutters before giving Harper one more long hard look before he books it out of her office, and I shut the door behind him.

  “You know I didn’t need you to do that,” she admits as I stalk toward her, loving the way her eyes light up as her back hits the wall. “I can handle myself.”

  I still say nothing as I crowd her, placing my hands on either side of her head as my lips find the shell of her ear, causing her to shiver.

  “I know that, Sunshine. Doesn’t mean I’m going to sit back and listen to a man berate my woman, especially when all I wanted to do was beat the shit out of him.”

  Her breaths come in pants as my lips lightly trace down her neck, her hips circling as her fingers tangle in the fabric of my T-shirt.

  “Why didn’t you?” she says breathlessly.

  “Why didn’t I what?” My lips dip between her breasts, loving the way her chest rises and falls the closer my lips get to her tits.