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“Thanks again for doing it at the store. Dad is still on cloud nine. But I think it’s more because he has new customers to get to know now.” She smiles. “He makes a point to know every customer by name and what they purchase when they come in. Presley once suggested that we assign numbers to the customer roster and Dad completely lost it. You’d have thought she’d suggested throwing their names in the burn pile. He’s always said the personal touch is what brings them back to the store.”
“So, did you work there growing up?”
“Yep. Still do during summer break. I actually enjoy it. I love getting to spend that time with family—except for Rhett, he tends to drive everyone crazy.” She laughs as she speaks of her younger brother.
“Yeah. He seems like a character, much like his nephew.” I point to my forehead. “Is he always so fearless?”
“Yep. Tessa complains, says we all spoil him, but it’s hard not to.”
“I can understand why.”
We fall into an easy conversation, talking about her family mostly, although it does move to mine occasionally, and I’m able to answer with ease. It’s never been this comfortable and effortless with anyone. Or maybe I never cared to put the energy in before since I’d always questioned their motives. And now that I know what she’s had in her mind, it makes sense why she’d been standoffish before. Although, I can still sense that she has one eye on me, and one constantly glancing over her shoulder, watching for a runner to steal a base while trying to keep focused on the pitch being delivered to the person at the plate. I won’t aim for the stands. I’ll bunt, keep the ball in play until she’s able to recognize the only game I’m playing is the one where catching and keeping her makes me the winner. And it’s a good decision, the meal goes well.
Afterwards, as we walk to my truck, I decide (against my better judgment) to say what I’m thinking aloud. “I know it’s late, but I’m not ready for the night to end.”
And I’m freakin’ ecstatic when she responds, “Me neither.”
“Do you want to go somewhere or back to your place or mine?” I tried to make my innocent suggestion obvious but the statement is loaded with assumptions, so I clarify, “No expectations. I just want to hang out a little longer. We can watch a movie or whatever.”
“Okay.” She agrees, but I sense her reluctance.
We decide on my place, and once I pull in the driveway, I feel her unease notch up.
“Avery, let me know when you’re ready to call it a night, even if it’s now.”
“I’m not ready yet.” She gives me a reassuring smile that doesn’t put my mind to rest. But at least she’s not running.
Leading her into the house, we step into the kitchen, and I grab a bottle of water for her. As she accepts it, she stares at me for the first time like I’m a stranger. I immediately miss the familiarity in her eyes, there’s a hint of darkness, and it nearly makes my stomach turn to think I’ll lose that light I’ve come to crave when I look into her hazel eyes.
Stepping in front of her, her hip leans against the counter as I prop my hands on the stone countertop on either side of her, searching her eyes. “What are you thinking?”
“It’s just… more than I was expecting.” Her eyes dart over my shoulder. “I mean, my entire apartment fits in your kitchen.”
“Don’t. Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Look at me differently, like everyone else does. All it is is a big empty house that my agent picked out for me. I didn’t want to move back to this town, so I had zero desire to house shop.”
“Why wouldn’t you want to pick out a place for yourself once you signed with the team?”
“Because I didn’t plan on staying here.” Shock is evident on her face, and I say something I may regret later, but she needs to hear it. “But plans change.”
Leaning forward, I tenderly brush my lips over hers, waiting for her response. When she kisses me back, I dive deeper into it, savoring her every second she allows me to do so. She’s here. She’s letting me in. And I can’t get enough of her, relishing in her as long as she’ll allow. When she breaks the contact, I clasp her hand in mine and lead her to the media room that I’ve only used to study game reels since moving in.
Passing her the remote, I say, “Pick any movie. I’ll be right back.”
Making my way down the hallway, I step into the bathroom and take a second. Pressing my palms against the cold marble countertop, my head hangs down as I utter, “Don’t fuck this up.” Because it’s not the town or this house or even the team that makes it feel like home, it’s her. And that scares the shit out of me. The town my father lives in was supposed to be a pit stop, not the place I hang my hat.
19
AVERY
Sitting on the couch—Carter’s couch—I glance around before flipping through the movie selections and choosing a comedy. A few minutes go by before he joins me on the couch, sitting a few feet away.Alright, you’re letting me know this is not aNetflix-and-chillsituation. Message received.
Something is off with him, but I’m not sure if I’m imagining it or if it’s simply the fact that’s we’re both adjusting to whatever is happening between us. After a few minutes, he shifts closer, so I tuck my feet up under me, enjoying when he drapes his arm around my shoulders. I lean against him, failing to focus on the movie. Instead, I study the shelves beside the TV, noting they’re filled with only décor, no pictures. It’s not Carter Barlowe, star pitcher of the Coyotes, represented within these walls. It’s the kid who probably grew up in a home just as grand and uninviting as this one. Money sure didn’t buy the Barlowe family happiness, and though I don’t pity Carter, that fact does make my heart sad for the kid he used to be and the man he is today. He deserved to grow up in a home full of laughter and happy memories; a home where there wasn’t enough wall space to display all the favorite family photos.
Nuzzling closer to him, I let out a contented sigh. Being in Carter’s embrace is cozy; I fit into the nook he’s created for me perfectly. He still smells fresh from the shower he’d taken earlier at my parents’ house, and a little thrill shoots through me when I inhale that familiar scent on him. I’m still enjoying his warmth and being nestled against him when my alarm sounds on my cell phone.
