“Taiwant you so bad,” whispers Cyndi in the ear of a sweat-glistened Chien-Ming Wang. The bar reeks of desperation and despair, and no hopeless scent is more acrid than Wang’s. He has just been non-tendered by the New York Yankees, following a miserable injury-plagued season and a half. But Cyndi’s gentle touch on his shoulder is the opposite of non-tender.
His shoulder. The reason why his $5 million contract is gone. It has still not fully recovered from the season-ending surgery he underwent in June. Wang shivers, and he doesn’t know if it’s from the sadness or the desire. Cyndi clearly thinks it’s the latter, giving him a wink as she retreats behind the bar to take another customer’s order. Wang puts his head in his hands. He can’t do this. He has a wife and a young daughter. How could he live with himself if he betrayed them? And yet…his career might be over. Nothing in life seems to give him satisfaction anymore. Maybe he needs Cyndi.
She whirls back around to face him and hands him another drink. “So, what do you do?” she asks. “I…uh…sell cars.” Want doesn’t want to disclose his true identity. “What kind of cars?” “Uh…mostly…gray cars. With doors.” She nods and smiles. He’s not sure if she believes him or not. “My shift is over. Want to get out of here?”
Wang wants. Cyndi leads him out of the bar, grinning at him. “I can’t wait,” she tells him breathlessly, “let’s run to my home!”
“NO!” shouts Wang, his eyes filled with fear. The last time he ran home he sustained a season ending injury in Houston. Cyndi is taken aback, but doesn’t ask for an explanation. “Let’s just walk. Carefully.” She agrees.
They are in her bed, ripping each other’s clothing off like . Nothing stands between their naked flesh but the last shreds of Wang’s guilt. Continue reading