Over the Fence: Lyssa Layne's Baseball Romances Read Online Free Page A

come on. I stand and say to Maddox, “Thanks for your company.”
    Maddox grins and responds loud enough for Grant to hear, “Any time, Colie! There’s always room on my blanket for you.”
    I laugh as I see Grant grimace at Maddox’s comment. Grant turns around and grabs my hand while we walk to the front of the restaurant. Pulling me toward him protectively, we wait for someone to come to the register. His fingers fidget with the charms on my bracelet. He looks down at me and asks for a second time, “Have you been drinking?”
    “Three cups of coffee,” I say, still avoiding the question.
    The cashier arrives and Grant gives him a fifty dollar bill, telling him to keep the change. He guides me outside to his black Escalade and holds the passenger door open for me.
    We ride in silence for a few blocks until Grant finally talks. “I don’t like you being around Maddox.”
    I roll my eyes in the dark. “He’s harmless!”
    Grant glances at me out of the corner of his eye. “Colie, you’ve been drinking. You don’t know anything about him other than he’s a hobo outside your building. He could’ve easily taken advantage of you. It’s a bad combination I’m not comfortable with.”
    I lean back in my seat as I mutter, “Well, I’m not the one who got someone’s apartment condemned.”
    Grant grips the steering wheel and glances over at me again. “You can stay with me ‘til spring training starts, then I’ll help you find a place when we get back.”
    Oh no, the ugly cry, it’s about to come and I don’t know if I can stop it. With the mention of spring training, the tears prick my eyes and I squeeze them shut to try to fight them off. My emotions are intensified by the alcohol and fact that I might not have a job soon. I’m already out a place to live. As I sniffle, still trying to fend off tears, I feel Grant’s hand on my thigh.
    In a low, almost whisper, he asks, “Colie, what’s wrong?”
    I sit up, shaking my head. “Nothing, I’m fine.”
    I feel his stare, but refuse to look in his direction, knowing if I do the waterworks will start. I open the door and jump out of his SUV, following him into his house. While he’s a multi-million dollar MLB star, he lives pretty modestly. Don’t get me wrong, it’s still a nice house and I’m sure he has a proper fire escape. It’s a four-bedroom, three bath, two story home in a small suburb of New York City. It’s a huge house for a bachelor like him, so I don’t feel bad about crashing here for the night… or the next few weeks.
    He flips on the light in the guest room that’s across the hall from his bedroom. He points to the bed and says, “I laid out a shirt for you to sleep in if you want to change.”
    Grant exits the room and closes the door. I quickly change and use the attached bathroom to wash my face and brush my teeth with a spare toothbrush. I know he keeps them under the sink. Last season, when we’d get home late from away games, Grant would insist I stay at his place. His reasoning was that it was safer than me walking by Maddox at early hours of the morning.
    I flip the light off and lie down when there’s a soft knock on the door. I hear his voice call out, “Colie?”
    “Come in.” I roll over to face him as he sits on the edge of the bed, looking down at me.
    “I didn’t mean for your apartment to be condemned.”
    I’m not mad, I never was. I know Grant is always trying to do what’s best for me. Not just me but for his teammates as well. That’s the kind of guy he is. He’d give the shirt off his back if someone asked. I let out a long breath and nod before I respond, “I know.”
    Neither of us speaks. I watch him inspecting my face in the moonlight and wonder what he’s thinking. He pushes my hair away from my forehead and speaks in a deep baritone, “Tell me what’s wrong.”
    That’s all it takes, his calming voice and concern, and I can’t keep the tears in. They start falling down my cheeks and then