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I just want to know if her lips are as soft as they appear.
"How about this," I suggest, turning so that our bodies are facing one another. "You keep your money, and for every thought I share with you, you share one with me as payment."
It's a dangerous game.
And I'm ready to play.
"You go first." The hesitance in her voice overshadows the confidence she's trying to portray.
"I'm thinking of applying to culinary school," I confess.
"Really? Do you need culinary school? You're already so good at what you do."
"I'm not professionally trained, so it would help."
"I think you should then. If you want. I mean, I know baseball is important to you but—"
"Baseball is a job. It takes up a lot of time. There's a lot of travel. You have to dedicate everything to the game. The higher you climb, the more pressure there is and the more of yourself, your time, it demands. I love it, but I also love cooking, and the more I think about it, the more I enjoy the lifestyle cooking allots me."
Piper stares at me like I've grown a second head, a small smile on her face. I can tell it's genuine because it's higher on the left side.
"Your turn."
"I was just thinking how amazingly talented you are. How I'd love for my biggest issue in life to be having to choose between the two things I love most in this world."
But she has it wrong. Even though I love cooking and baseball, neither of them are number one on my list.
She is.
And this feels like the perfect moment to confess my feelings.
We're alone on the front porch. The moon is shining down on us, illuminating her features.
Who knows when I'll have another chance?
I open my mouth to say something just as Max bursts out the front door, Mya hot on his heels.
"Damn it, Max. You can't run away from this. If you don't apologize, I will make your life a living hell!"
I watch in fascination as she continues to stomp down the sidewalk after Max, hollering at him the entire time, as students moving from party-to-party stare on.
Piper's laughter is what finally draws my attention away. When I turn back toward her, I notice she's closer than I was anticipating. Without giving it a second thought, I place my hands on her hips and pull her to my chest, inhaling sunshine.
My pretty girl.
"Julian, I have to go. My ride is here," she states, her voice shaking as she pushes out of my embrace. "I'll see you in class."
And then she's gone. Running away from me and slipping into the back seat of a dark SUV. Our moment, ruined by Max and Mya.
For the second time tonight, he stood in my way.
