AllFreeNovel
Share Us
With a heavy sigh and a look of exhaustion, she nods. “Yeah, I think so.”
“Let’s get inside and I’ll make a late dinner.”
“Not hungry,” she mutters, shouldering her bag while I disarm the alarm and take her luggage inside the house.
Once she’s in, I turn and immediately reset the alarm, initiating the boundary alerts and I watch Greer’s shoulders relax.
“Did you eat before the game?” I ask, rolling her luggage down the hall and into the spare bedroom. I’m assuming last night’s sleeping arrangements were due to extenuating circumstances and she’s going to want her own bed tonight.
When she doesn’t respond, I turn to find her watching me from the doorway of the room.
“Don’t tell me you finally gave into the beignets and beers at the clubhouse?” I tease.
Her nose scrunches up in disgust and it’s adorable. “That’s the most disgusting combination I’ve ever heard of. Why on earth is that how y’all choose to celebrate?”
Chuckling, I shrug my shoulders and take a seat on the edge of the bed. “It’s been around for a while. Back when Ross and I were first traded here, we wanted to embrace the culture of the city and we’d always go out for late night beignets at Cafe du Monde. When the season picked up and we started winning, we kept going and later added beers into the mix. Throughout the season, we started including the whole team and it got to the point it was easier to just have the beignets and beers brought to us.”
“And I know how baseball players are about their superstitions,” she says, walking into the room and taking a seat on the recliner.
“Once we find something that works, we stick with it. How does the saying go? If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it? That’s baseball in a nutshell.”
She laughs and it’s music to my ears. I can physically feel the tension and trepidation leave not only her, but the air around us. The easygoing comfort we found this morning is easing back in.
“How about I introduce you to another tradition?” I ask, standing from the bed and offering her my hand. “Come on.”
For a second, I think she’s not going to accept my offer and call it a night, but then she places her hand in mine and I feel a faint electric current when our skin touches. Call me crazy, but that one simple touch seems to travel all through my body.
“I don’t like beer,” Greer says, following me down the hall. “But I do love beignets, especially with café au lait. Now, that would be a Reveler’s tradition I could get behind.”
“The beer makes it manly.” That earns me a hearty laugh from Greer and it makes me smile so wide my cheeks hurt. Turning to her, I ask, “How do you feel about grilled cheese sandwiches?”
Her eyes flare. “What kind of cheese?”
“Any kind you want,” I tell her, knowing my refrigerator is adequately stocked with a variety of cheeses especially for this occasion. “Back in college, I started eating grilled cheeses when I’d come home late from the bars after a win. I think it’s the bread and butter that always helped soak up the alcohol, but, regardless, it always guaranteed I’d wake up the next morning feeling no pain and ready to go again.”
“If it ain’t broke,” Greer says, leaning against the kitchen counter as I pull the ingredients from the fridge.
“Damn right,” I tell her, reaching around her to grab the bread from where I left it this morning after making us toast.
Greer turns a fraction of an inch, causing my arm to brush across her breast.
My rapidly hardening bulge presses against her thigh and I’m so close, I can hear her sharp intake of breath when she feels what she’s doing to me.
Closing my eyes, I inhale her intoxicating scent and immediately feel lightheaded.
As I step back and meet her eyes, there’s no mistaking the need. Greer’s pupils are dilated, swallowing the green of her irises. Heat radiates from her body, begging to be touched. The question is: how dumb would it be for me to hook up with my fake girlfriend?
I realize it could complicate things and possibly cause all of this to blow up in our face.
But it could also be exactly what we both need—a mutual agreement to fuck and release all of this pent-up tension. I know it’s the best way for me to release the lingering adrenaline from a game and I can only imagine the stress she’s feeling from all the bullshit happening in her life.
My dick is trying to convince me it’s a win-win.
But my head is still throwing up red flags and being a fucking cockblock.
Don’t complicate things.
She needs a friend right now.
