Page 77 of The Sweet Spot

Whit in my jersey and hot dogs.

What did I do? What did I do in my life to deserve this sight in my kitchen?

“This is technically our second date. You might be rushing a little.”

Placing my hands on her knees, I step in between them, cup her cheeks, and kiss her again.

Her hands rest on my shoulders, and she relaxes the second my tongue swipes across her lips.

“Can't help it. You're the best thing that has ever happened to me,” I say against her lips.

She giggles, pushing me back, but I don't let her go.

“I'm serious. You in my apartment is better than the time I won district in Little League and the first time I was called up to the Bigs combined. Nothing will top seeing you cooking in my apartment, wearing my jersey.”

I kiss her again, never wanting to stop because I have no idea how long she's here for. She's supposed to be in Canada tomorrow, but right now she's here. With me.

Her back arches as she pushes her hands into my hair and scratches at my scalp, making me groan.

I slide my hand from her waist down to her bare thigh, and she makes a small sound into my mouth.

“JB,” she says against my lips.

“Yeah.”

“Hot dogs are getting cold.”

That stops me right in my tracks. I pull back and glare at her.

“Are you kidding me? You expect me to eat hot dogs when all I want to eat is you?”

I move to drop to my knees, but Whit stops me by pulling away and bats her long lashes at me. Her lips are pouty and plump, her nose is reddened and her hair is messy from my hands running through it.

Mine. She's all mine.

“You can't ignore the hot dogs! It's the first time I've ever tried to make them, and I didn't know what toppings you like.”

She gestures to the hot dogs beside her, and I stare at the counter for a second, taking in the ridiculous spread.

There are ten hot dogs, all loaded with different toppings. One's loaded with chili, one with pulled pork... every single one has something different, and every single one looks delicious.

Whit’s eyes flick between the hot dogs and me.

“It’s... a lot. I know,” she says, biting her lip. “I didn't know what you'd like, and I didn't want to disappoint you.”

I grab her face with both hands and tilt her chin up, forcing her to meet my eyes. “You could never disappoint me, Whit,” I say with the utmost seriousness.

Her lips purse as she holds back a laugh. I can't help it. I break too, chuckling as I say, “It’s a crazy amount of hot dogs, baby, and we're going to devour all of them. Pick the first one.”

She hesitates, then grabs the one with cheese and relish—the exact one I've been thinking about.

I lean in and take a big bite straight from her hand, my eyes locked on hers while I chew.

She watches me, her lips parted as the taste fills my mouth.

Fucking delicious.

“Is it okay?” she asks.