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Tatum nudged Shane with her hip. “Oh, maybe we should stay at your place then. You know how much I like stinky.”
They giggled playfully, like the young lovers they so clearly were. Seated on the bench together, scarfing down hot dogs and grape soda in the crisp fall afternoon sun, Tatum had never been happier. She had a feeling, for all his cocky bluster and goofy charm, Shane hadn’t, either.
They sat in comfortable silence, chewing and sipping until she spotted his darling face, peering up at her from the middle spread of the campus newspaper. She snatched it up and waved it gently toward him, murmuring regretfully. “Gonna be hard to keep things under wraps once everyone has a chance to read this, you know?”
“What wraps? You’re mine, I’m yours. Nothing to hide, nothing to be ashamed of, remember?”
“You say that now, Shane…” Her voice was as full of warning as it was resignation, knowing how hard it would be for a cocky young jock to resist temptation once the hot, sexy, younger girls of Sycamore State got a good look at Shane in the paper.
He set down his soda can and turned toward her, clasping both cheeks in his big, sweaty hands. “When are you gonna learn to trust me, woman?”
“I do trust you, Shane. Honest, I do. I just know how boys think.”
“You know how three boys think, Tatum. Your first ex, your second, and your third. Damned if I’m going to be your fourth.”
Despite how many times he’d said it since they’d met, made love, and for lack of a better term, fallen in love for the first time, Tatum was inclined to believe it. She sagged in his arms, smothering him with a grateful kiss and comforted by the pounding of his young, foolish heart.
“Okay, Shane. Fine. I’ll trust you.”
“Why do I sense anifin there somewhere?”
She chuckled. “You know me so well, Big Guy.”
“So, Tatum, you’ll trust meif what?”
She stood abruptly, unsticking herself from his sweaty torso and standing above him with an alluring gaze. “I’ll trust you if you stop reading that article I wrote about you.”
“What?” He picked it up, waving it around playfully. “Why? I love this thing, almost as much as I love the gal who wrote it.”
“Yeah, but the more you read it, the cockier you’ll get, and I love you just the way you are.”
He chuckled, standing to join her as they tossed their wrappers and empty soda cans into the trash by their cozy little bench for two. “Yeah, well, I’m not promising that because it’s the only thing I have that you’ve written and until you write something new, it’s all I’ve got, so…”
She slid her hand into his, squeezing it tight as they started the long, slow walk to exit the stadium. “Well, you’re in luck.”
“Don’t I know it,” he teased, nudging her hip suggestively.
“No, seriously. I … Moira was so happy with the way the article turned out that she wants me to cover the team this season.”
He stopped dead, yanking her back with his strong grip and wrapping her up in a hug so tight she struggled to breathe. Just not very hard. “What? That’s awesome, Tatum. Congrats.”
“Thanks, I … I couldn’t have done it without you, Shane.”
He eased her gently away from his chest, offering a big, dimpled smile. “That’s true, actually.”
She punched him playfully as they turned and continued walking. “Honestly, though, that’s a few months away still.”
“Oh, sure. Lots to catch up on, so I’ll be working on this full-time until spring training and then, opening day.”
“Looks like we’ll be spending a lot of time together then, huh?”
“Oh, all the time, Babe. All the time. You up for that?”
“Time with you? I’d spend every day with you until I retire from this here sport, Tatum. As long as that takes.”
For some reason, holding Shane’s hand as they walked out of the stadium and into the crisp, clear day, Tatum couldn’t help but believe him.
The End
