Page 76 of Elevator Pitch

“Like physical props?” I ask.

Ross hums, placing his hands on my knees and spreading them, then he moves between my legs. He cups my jaw.

“Question one. How does it feel to kiss a woman.” He isn’t asking.

Instead, he leans forward and presses his lips to mine. Featherlight at first. A whisper of a kiss that has me gaping in surprise before he dives in. His tongue invades my mouth. His lips crush mine. He kisses me like he kissed me the first time, when we were both startled by our response to one another. He kisses me like he did the last time before I left Arizona, when it felt like he was memorizing every swipe and swirl.

I try to school myself. Remind myself this is for research purposes, and I’m his willing guinea pig. But I’m getting as much as I’m giving in this kiss. Which is everything. All my hurt from Ross. All my happiness. He’s been a constant contradiction, confounding yet surprisingly compassionate. He seems to appreciate who I am and accept what I do for him.

I’m a good friend.

With that thought, I pull back, cutting the kiss short, surprising Ross who chases my mouth, giving me one more nip before letting me go. His eyes are hooded. His lips swollen. His mouth slowly curls as I cover my own with shaky fingers.

“It’s like sipping wine,” he begins his instruction while rubbing his thumbs along my cheekbones. “A combination of tart and sweet. A balance on the tongue of tangy and tantalizing. A burst of flavor and then the slow swallow of warmth. The best is when the sensation lingers, like a phantom kiss, making my mouth water and want more.”

His gaze drops to my mouth, the look ravenous, like he wants to strip me bare and enter me right here on this wobbling kitchen stool. I swallow hard, then I lick my lips like I can taste all the sensations he described.

“You aren’t even a writer.” I swallow hard, the warm comfort he mentioned clogs my throat. “And yet that was good.” I clear my throat. “Good description. Good example.” A-plus-plus.

“What can I say, I enjoy the finer things in life.” He strokes my cheekbones once more and I remember him telling me something like that once before. “And you, sweetheart, are one of those fine things.”

Oh, he’s good. Very good. And I’m in trouble if I don’t rein myself in. I should remind him we aren’t talking about me. This is for informational purposes. For fictional characters.

Instead, I say nothing and lean back, but I can only pull away so far as the wall is directly behind my seat. My head taps it as I attempt to free myself from the constraints of his clasp and the invasion of his scent, not to mention the stirring buzz lingering from that kiss. Talk about wine analogies.

Ross’s hands slowly retreat from my face, and he stands taller. “For insurance purposes, I think I’ll hold off on answering the other questions for now.”

“Yep,” I choke out. If he provides any more examples, we’re going to be naked on the floor and I can’t allow Ross to expose me like that again.

“Then I’ll call you tomorrow?”

I nod, preparing to walk him to the door but afraid to let go of the seat of the stool. I hadn’t realized I’d been clutching it so tightly, holding myself back from touching him, from pulling him closer to me.

“I’ll show myself out,” he finally says, and I’m left sitting in my kitchen, wondering what just happened.

Did he kiss me to get what he wanted, or did he kiss me because he wants me?

Chapter 25

[Vee]

For the next week, Ross and I talk after his games which is late at night compared to spring training. The Arizona games were typically played during the afternoons, but the season games are more often in the evening, especially during the week.

By the end of the first home series, the Anchors had won two of three games and social media is breathing easier on the team’s potential for success under their new leader.

Additionally, these are Anchor fans who will be loyal no matter who they hate or admire on a team, and it’s become clear many people are not in favor of Romero Valdez and his antics. He’s been suspended for his actions toward a teammate.

The announcement also came that Ford will be on the injury list for a few months, citing surgery and recovery time as the reason.

Of course, Ross told me most of this himself. He opened up to me about his concerns for his team’s morale. His personal dislike of Romero’s attitude. His heartbreak for Ford Sylver.

“He’s a good guy. One I looked forward to coaching because of his leadership as well as his skill. Plus, I know what it’s like to go out on a fizzle instead of in a blaze of glory.”

Ross left pitching the year the Anchors won the pennant. He went out with a flaming inferno. Then again, his personal life had been smoldering embers while Ford’s circumstances sound like a dumpster fire. I don’t mention my concern that he’s falsely compared the differing scenarios. Instead, I listen.

And every night Ross surprises me by asking, “How’s the writing going?”

And I begrudgingly offer a variety of adjectives.