Page 104 of Bad Run

Same as he’s done every day last week—and completely ignoring how he just busted me drooling over his naked chest—he says, “Tell me about your day.”

Heat burns my cheeks as I push through. “Let’s see, I started off eating breakfast with my grandmother. I call her Juju, and aside from my mom, she’s my favorite person in the whole world. Then, I went to work and stared at spreadsheets until I thought my eyes were going to bleed.”

“Tell me about your grandma.” He places an arm behind his head, and I try not to stare as I imagine biting his juicy bicep like a turkey leg.

He’s making it hard for me to concentrate. Maybe talking about my grandma will kill my lady boner.

“Juju is my grandma on my dad’s side. She’s the perfect mix of no-nonsense, blunt, and sophisticated.”

Lance sits back and listens, letting me tell story after story about her.

He laughs as I recount how she loves to yell at my dead grandfather while pointing at the ground because she believes he’s in hell. “She sounds like fun.”

“She really is.” I chuckle.

Lance yawns, and I glance at the clock. It’s after midnight in New York. “Oh my god, it’s so late. You need to go to bed; you have a game tomorrow. Why did you let me jabber on?”

He shrugs. “I like listening to you.”

“I’m going to feel terrible if you play like crap tomorrow.”

“I won’t play like crap. Besides, I’ve stayed up late after a game before.”

My brain conjures up an unwanted image of Lance with some woman, staying up late together doing things I never want to think about. I make a face. “TMI, mister.”

Lance frowns. “Get that shit out of your head. That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

I know that’s not what he meant, but I can’t stop my brain from going off on tangents. It’s a side effect of my being an overthinker.

“You’re right. I don’t know why I said that. I’m sorry.”

“No need to be sorry. Just focus on us and on our future.” He casually says our future as if it were already a foregone conclusion. Words escape me, so I nod. “Good. Would it help if I told you that there has been no one else since you?”

“Really?” I squeak. “Not since November?”

We were together one night six months ago. That’s roughly one hundred and eighty-two days, and he hasn’t been with anyone else. I haven’t either, but I’m also not a hot-as-hell baseball player with all the options in the world.

“What can I say? You cast a dry spell on me, little witch.”

Little witch.

The moniker he’s been calling me makes sense now. Something a lot like hope and affection for the gorgeous man on the other end of the line blooms in my chest, making it ache.

Does this mean he was serious about catching me? Because he has feelings for me?

I stare into his mesmerizing eyes, searching for answers. For a hint of understanding about what is happening between us.

All Lance does is smirk.

“Go to bed, Gwen,” Lance drawls.

“Okay,” I answer.

“I’ll call you tomorrow. Same time,” he says with conviction.

“Okay,” I repeat. It’s the only word I can manage, but there are a million on the tip of my tongue, begging to be spoken.

“Night.”