Page 39 of Double Play

“That’s my—” I stop myself when I notice something on the inside of her left wrist. A number inked on her skin right over her pulse point. I haven’t ever noticed it because she wears a watch when she’s reporting.

Three. My number.

When our eyes meet again, only a second passes before our mouths reconnect. Then I’m reaching for the shower handle, shutting off the water, and picking her up by the backs of her thighs. She wraps her legs around my hips, and I carry her to her old bedroom, where we play another round of memories and dreams.

seventeen

. . .

[Declan]

In the morning, I’m hesitant. Not that I didn’t enjoy every second of what happened between us. In private, we’ve encased ourselves in a bubble in which only the two of us exists. But outside the walls of this house is the reality that we work together, and she has reservations about that status.

“I’ll follow your lead here,” I admit as we stand across from one another in the kitchen, each cupping a coffee mug. I need to get to the ballpark soon. I imagine she does as well.

Her head tips to the side.

“Are we friends again?”

“I’d say we’re more than friends.” Her mouth lazily curls, sending my spent dick into spasms. I haven’t been this horny in years, but it’s just as I thought it’d be. I’d want more from her.

“I mean out there.” I nod toward the door. “At the park.”

Her expression falls as she lowers her mug to the countertop. A weak shrug moves her shoulders. “I can’t risk anyone finding out what happened here.”

Slowly, I nod like I understand, and on some basic level I do. But we’d been friends before last night. We’ve known each other for years.

“This job is too important to me.”

As far as I know, there isn’t a no-fraternizing clause, although The Den might have one between their staff and the team.

“So, we keep this between us?” Why do I feel like I’m thirty again, sneaking into her bedroom late at night or needing to find an excuse to see her for a minute to steal a kiss?

“Us?” She arches a brow. “For now.”

“I can do that.” I can keep our secret.

For now.

Our first night matchup against Colorado went better than expected, except for one pesky field reporter interviewing me during the game who remains her standoffish self. While one night certainly didn’t guarantee a new relationship, I still hoped for more. A sheepish glance between us. A shared smile of understanding. We’d spent an incredible night together.

So, when I return to Isaiah’s home late after the game, I’m prepared for a fight. I didn’t like being ignored or dismissed or whatever it was she was playing at by keeping up a professional veneer without even a friendly grin.

Instead, when I enter the house, I find India naked in her bed.

Her bedroom has changed a bit over the years while retaining feminine touches. Fake plants and fluffy throw-pillows. A heavy duvet in a large-print floral pattern. Even the woman on top of the cover is different in so many wonderful ways. The outline of her body. The confidence in her stare.

Then again, I see the same momentary flash of vulnerability I saw last night. That moment after she told me I was eye-fucking her. Her gaze softened just a bit, hesitated even, like she was afraid I’d reject her. As if I didn’t want her in the worst way.

And I’d give anything to have one real smile from her.

“Well,” I stammer. “This is a surprise.” I’m caught between the irritation that brewed on the ride over here and the sudden stimulation of her naked. Her breasts are on display, while a white throw blanket covers her lower belly and upper thighs. Her long, toned legs extend from beneath the covering. She is a work of art.

As she watches me, I reach behind my neck and tug my shirt over my head.

“Why is that move such a turn on?”

My cheeks heat as I drop the shirt to the floor and toe off my shoes. Climbing over her on all fours, I catch on her eyes, the sterling color shined to perfection without her glasses in the way.