Page 69 of The Sweet Spot

That he is.

“Traitor,” JB mutters, glaring at his friend, but there's the smallest of smirks growing on his lips.

“Hey, Whit.” Tate keeps going. “Did you know JB once watched a forty-five-minute interview where you talked about lawn maintenance instead of coming out to the team dinner to celebrate a win he was responsible for?”

“No.” I shake my head, my smile growing wider as JB’s cheeks start to redden. He's just so goddamn endearing without even trying.

“To be clear, I was watching it for tips to improve my lawn.”

“You live in an apartment.”

“My future lawn.”

“You know, most people just buy flowers when they have a crush, JB,” I say with a wink.

“Where's the fun in that?”

“You're lucky, Whit,” Tate says. “That interview was the least concerning thing he did when he hadn't met you yet.”

“Is there a reason you're here, Tate? Or are you just trying to cock block me for the rest of my life?”

That's when Tate's smile fades. “Yeah, uh, there was something I wanted to talk to you about, but we can do it later.”

“If you're leaving because of me, don't worry, Tate. I'm beat. I need to get some rest.”

“You sure?” he asks with a raised brow. The fact that Tate came so late to talk to JB must mean it's important to him, and I don't want to get in the way of that.

“Yeah. I'm tired, and I have to do some press in the morning. You guys talk.”

JB pushes Tate out of the way so it's just his face visible. “Talk soon?” he says pointedly. “Need to pick up where we left off.”

My cheeks heat just a little as I give him a small smile.

“Yes,” I say quietly, then a little louder, “Goodnight, boys.”

“Goodnight, Whit,” they say simultaneously as I hang up still grinning.

I set my phone on the nightstand and lie back, staring at the ceiling.

Easy.

That’s what keeps pulling at my heart. Talking to JB is so stupidly easy, and I have absolutely no idea what to do with that. I’ve never had easy before. I’ve had good, and I’ve had a little fun, but never this. I’ve never been with someone who makes me feel like I’ve known him for years when it’s only been a few days.

The distance doesn't scare me. I've been alone on the road my whole career and I'm good at it.

It's this that scares me. Whatever this is, because if he can do that to me in a weekend, I genuinely don't know what he's capable of with more time.

Chapter 12

Week One

JB: Quick question...

JB: Hypothetically, if a man were to get a tattoo of a small catfish somewhere on his body, where's the least unhinged place to put it?

Whit: Really? That's what you're going to ask me after last night?

JB: What do you mean?