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And just like that, I’m yanking my hands out of my pockets and closing the distance between us. As soon as my body slams into his and my arms go around his waist, Shepherd doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around me, keeping me held firmly against him. Turning my face to the side, I close my eyes and rest my cheek against his chest.
“Apology accepted,” I finally reply softly, listening to the quickly beating thump-thump-thump of Shepherd’s heart against my ear, perfectly in tune with my own rapidly beating heart. Feeling the weight of his strong arms around me and his warm, solid body pressed tightly against mine for the first time, nothing else matters and everything finally feels right in my world. “It’s fine.”
“I’m pretty sure the last week has proven it’s not fine,” Shepherd says with a small laugh that rumbles through his chest and against the side of my face, making me squeeze my arms tighter around his waist and breathe him in. I feel him rest his chin on top of my head, and I smile against him, just enjoying the feel of being in this man’s arms when I’ve been dreaming about it almost all my life.
“I’m sorry I was so weird.”
I feel his chest bounce with laughter again, and he slowly starts rocking our hug from side to side, shifting his arms around me and hugging me tighter.
“I like it when you’re weird.”
We’re both quiet for a few minutes, still wrapped up in our hug with his chin still resting on top of my head.
“I’m sorry,” he says again quietly.
“Stop.” I laugh softly, clasping my hands together against his lower back when I finally pull my head away from his chest so I can look up at him. And regret it immediately.
I’m several inches shorter than him, but even with our height difference, I’m still closer to his mouth than I’ve ever been before. All I’d have to do is push up on my toes, and my lips would be on his. I try not to, but I can’t help it. My eyes flicker down to his mouth, and something that sounds like a groan rumbles deep in Shepherd’s chest, forcing my eyes back up to his. A muscle tics in his jaw as he stares down at me, no longer rocking us from side to side.
“Believe me, I get it,” I finally speak, needing to break the silence. “I saw it on the news. It was very sweet and romantic. I’m happy for you.”
It was stupid, and over the top, and ridiculous, and I want to puke on the front of your shirt right now.
Lost in the feel of Shepherd’s smell, Shepherd’s body, and Shepherd’s arms around me, imagining it was just the two of us and nothing else mattered, it completely escaped my attention that this entire time, we’ve been standing right on home plate. Exactly where Alana Caldwell stood wrapped in this man’s arms and then sealed their new, exclusive relationship with a kiss. It’s not the same home plate, but it reminds me it isn’t just the two of us, and it never was. All of the butterflies flapping around excitedly in my stomach suddenly turn to nausea.
“No, you don’t get it,” Shepherd tells me as I try to pull back out of his arms, but he holds tight and doesn’t let me. “Go to dinner with me tonight. Let me explain.”
This time, I unwind my arms from around his waist, bring them between us, and shove against his chest as hard as I can until he final releases me and I take a few steps back.
“There’s nothing you need to explain.” I laugh instead of cry, waving him away with my hand as I take another much-needed step back from him. “Believe me, I get it. You apologized, and I thank you for that. I know we can’t go back to the way it used to be, but at least now we can be civilized when we see each other.”
I don’t know how I manage not to throw up in the dirt when I say those words, but I do. I even punctuate them with a smile.
“Okay, I’m obviously not doing this right,” Shepherd mutters, running a hand through his short hair in frustration. “I want you to go to dinner with me tonight. As in a date. With me. Tonight. Maybe I should have led with that.”
If this was a year ago and he was standing right in front of me, looking so adorably nervous, I would have jumped up and down screaming in joy. But this isn’t a year ago. And this is some bullshit.
“Are you kidding me right now?” I mutter, holding back the urge to shout at him.
Barely.
“I’m so bad at this,” he complains, taking a step toward me while I take another one back before I punch him. “I’m trying to say I’m not with Alana anymore. She broke up with me. So it’s cool now! We don’t have to just be civilized with each other.”
