Page 3 of Ruled Out
If he only knew I’m sitting here lusting over one of his recruits. I see beautiful women when I’m out all the time, but I’ve never been this fixated on someone after just once glance.What is it about her?Before I have a chance to answer my own question, my phone rings.
“Hi Bud! It’s your two favorite people,” my mom chirps happily when I answer the call, and I immediately know Dad is with her too.
“Hey! How’s Yellowstone treating you?” My parents both retired a year ago, bought an RV, and plan to travel to all the US national parks.
“It’s fantastic! Cell reception is a little spotty. We just wanted to call and wish you a great first day of work, in case we can’t reach you tomorrow. We’re so proud of you, Knox,” my dad says, his voice cracking a little at the end. “Dan couldn't be happier that you said yes to his offer. We plan on driving down for a few games. You’re gonna do great, son.”
I have a feeling my dad knows why Dan decided to retire, but I’m not going to push him to tell me. Dan has his reasons; he’ll tell me when he’s ready.
“Thanks, Dad. It would be great to have you guys come out here for a bit. Hopefully by then, I’ll know the town better, and will have mapped out the best spots to eat. We can make a weekend out of it.”
“Sounds great, bud!”Bud.It’s been Mom’s nickname for me for as long as I can remember. “Let us know how your first day goes!”
“Will do. Send me pictures from your trip when you can. Love you both.”
“We love you!” Mom responds. “If you speak to your sister, tell her we love her too,” she adds before disconnecting the call.Damn, I miss them.It’s a pipe dream, but I can only hope to have a relationship like theirs one day.
* * *
Hours later,I toss and turn in bed, unable to sleep. I grab my phone from my nightstand and open up Instagram. I mindlessly scroll for a little bit before my mind registers what I’m doing. My pulse hammers in my neck as I realize I’d typed “Phoebe Rhodes” into the search bar.
Just this once, I tell myself. This is the last thing I should be doing, but my curiosity wins and I tap on her profile, noticing immediately that it’s public. Half of me wanted her account to be private so I wouldn't have the opportunity to creep, but the other part of me is dying to know more about her. A round circle in the left-hand corner shows her profile picture, a selfie of her beaming smile. I curse Instagram for not allowing me to zoom in to see the full photo.
“I’d like to be my old self again, but I’m still trying to find it.”
The quote in her bio is confusing to me. Does she feel lost? Is it just a random quote? I google the sentence to find out its lyrics. I wonder if the words hold more meaning to her than just a song.
I put two and two together once I start scrolling through her feed. She has multiple photos with her friends at Taylor Swift concerts. Okay, so obviously she’s just a diehard fan and isn't sad and depressed. Why does this bring me a sense of relief? I don’t even know the girl, yet her feelings are weighing on me.
I notice she hasn't posted anything related to softball. To play at the collegiate level, a sport has to be your life. She seems to share a lot about herself on social media, so it’s odd to me that Phoebe hid that she’s signed to play college ball with one of the top teams in the nation. You’d never know she even played a sport from just looking at her social media.
“Holy shit,” I draw out. I should have stopped scrolling – hell, I shouldn’t have even clicked on her profile because what I’m looking at now has me wishing I wasn’t her fucking coach.
She’s sitting on the beach, wearing a light pink bikini. Her blonde hair is flowing in the sea breeze, her skin painted gold from the sun.Fuck… her perfectly round tits are on full display, pushed up by her bikini top. I finally allow myself to admit it; she’s the most beautiful human I’ve ever seen.
My dick thickens in my boxers and reality hits me like a train. I lock my phone and throw it across the room, not caring if the screen shatters.What the hell am I doing?I can’t allow myself to feed into this attraction.
Throwing the covers off my sweaty body, I walk to the bathroom for my second shower of the night. I usually prefer hot showers, but right now, I’m in need of a damn ice bath. My dick finally settles down with the sting of cold water, and I convince myself I just need to get laid. I’ll go on a date, have a night of hot sex, and forget this ever happened. My infatuation with Phoebe Rhodes stops now.
THREE
PHOEBE
The smell of coffee brings me to life as I pour oat milk creamer into my insulated travel mug. I barely got any sleep last night, thanks to first day jitters. I finally decided to get out of bed at six and go for a jog around campus.
Even in the dim morning light, CCU is absolutely stunning. Palm trees border the Victorian-style campus, and a beautiful bell tower stands tall in the courtyard. The ocean sunrise twinkles from the east side of campus, allowing rays of morning light to flicker across the horizon. I had to stop mid-run to take in the view of the sun ascending above the sea. I’ve always loved the symbolism of a sunrise, the notion that each day is a fresh start.
“That smells heavenly,” Maisie says with a yawn as she emerges from her room. “Please tell me you made enough for two.”
“What type of roommate would that make me if I didn't? Help yourself,” I answer as I swipe a banana off the counter for breakfast.
“You’re the best,” Maisie groans as she pours herself a fresh cup of coffee. “Why do you look so hot?” she questions as she looks me over, bringing the steaming mug to her lips. “It’s an unspoken rule that the college dress code consists of scrunchies and oversized t-shirts.”
“Maybe I’ll meet the love of my life today. You never know,” I say with a smirk. My first class doesn’t start until nine, so I had a few hours to myself after my run. After reviewing my class schedule for the hundredth time, I spent the rest of my morning getting ready. I curled my hair in soft beach waves and settled on a pair of high-waisted jean shorts, a sky-blue tank top, and white converse. Casual but cute is always my go-to style choice.
“Mmmm,” Maisie hums as she sips her coffee, holding a finger up in thought. “Can you take a picture of me? I promised my mom I would send her one. It’s a tradition she started when I was in kindergarten, and we’ve never skipped a year. I swear to God, she’ll make me take one until we graduate,” she jokes.
I can’t help but feel a pang of jealousy at her comment. My parents haven't so much as called me. I thought about trying to call last night, but quickly decided against it. Screw that; it’s their responsibility to call their only child to check in. If it wasn't for Corbin, I would have moved with no help. Hell, my parents would have happily paid a moving company before they did any physical labor.