I start for my car when she calls out, “That’s why you called me here? For that?”
I ignore her, my heart about to crack from embarrassment. I want to murder Jason for even convincing me to come all the way out here and make a grand statement. He’s getting a punch to his dick the minute I see him.
“Carson.” Milly pulls on my shoulder, halting me. Strong for such a little thing. “Why are you leaving?”
“Because I got my answer.”
“There has to be more,” she says, her teeth chattering. It’s not very cold out, so is that nerves? “You didn’t just ask me out here to inquire about the party.”
“I did.”
“Then tell me why it matters. Why did it matter if I went to the party? I didn’t think it was a big deal, just an open invitation.”
“It was a big deal,” I roar, losing my ability to keep it together. When I glance at her, she’s startled, but she doesn’t move.
“Wh-why was it a big d-deal?”
Great, now I made her stutter. Could this night get any worse?
Realizing she’s not going to let me leave without an explanation, I say, “Because, I wanted you there, okay?”
“Why?” she asks softly.
Succumbing to defeat, I say, “Don’t you see, Milly? Don’t you see the way I am whenever I see you? Don’t you see the way I itch to touch you? Don’t you see how desperate I am to spend more time with you?” Her eyes widen in surprise. “Fuck . . . you don’t, do you?”
Her head shakes. “No, I . . . no, I had no clue. I’m”—she bites her bottom lip—“I’m n-not your type.”
“How the fuck do you know what my type is?” I ask, offended. How the fuck can she not know?
“I . . . I don’t, b-but, Carson. Come on.”
“Come on, what?”
“I’m . . . me.”
“Yeah, I know exactly who you are,” I say, growing angrier and more passionate by the second. “I know that you’re Milly Potter with the devastating dimples and ocean-blue eyes. I know you’re Milly Potter with the perfect laugh and beautiful sense of humor. I know that you’re Milly Potter with more knowledge about the game I love than any person I can even comprehend, and I know you’re the Milly Potter who continues to invade my mind every second of every goddamn day.” I take a step forward and pull her hand into mine, linking our fingers together. God, how long have I wanted to do this?
She doesn’t say anything at first, just stares at our connection in awe, shock, and surprise. When she finally brings her eyes back to mine, they’re watery.
Quietly, she says, “You’re holding my hand.” Her surprise? It’s just adorable enough to chip away at my annoyance.
“I am.”
She studies our connection some more, tears filling her beautiful eyes. “You’re holding my hand.”
And just like that, my anger vanishes, and I pull her into my chest and wrap my arm around her shoulders. It only takes a few seconds before I hear her sniffle, snapping my will. I press my lips to the top of her head, her cheek, and then I lift her face so I can see those soulful eyes of hers. I brace myself, lean down, and kiss the tip of her nose right before I lift her mouth a little higher, angling her just right so when I bend even lower, my lips match directly with hers.
Hesitant at first, she scares me, not giving me her sweet mouth, but after a few passes of my lips, she moves her free hand up my chest to the back of my neck and presses into me.
And fuck is it amazing.
Soft, sweet, and timid, it’s everything I could have hoped for in a kiss from Milly. That’s until her lips part, letting my tongue swipe inside her mouth.
That’s when I truly get lost. Everything around us falls to silence, and the night just becomes me and my girl, Milly.
Chapter Fifty-Three
MILLY
Is this really happening right now?
Am I dreaming?
If I’m dreaming, why does this feel so real?
Not only is Carson Stone kissing me, but he’s . . . oh God, I’ll cry again.
He’s holding my hand. It’s what I’ve wanted for such a long time, to have a guy hold my hand, appreciate me enough to want to reach out and touch me. Intimately.
But Carson sees me.
He truly, truly sees me.
My hand grips tighter to the back of his neck, not wanting this moment to end, but my traitorous emotions take over and my tears start falling.
Pulling away with a hazy look on his face, he studies my eyes and then my tear-stained cheeks, causing his demeanor to change into protection mode. I’ve seen this side of him before. The first time was when I almost didn’t get his glove to him before an away trip. He was protecting me from myself. It was the first time he held me, and I swear I can still feel his arms around me from that day.
But this concern is deeper as he bends at the knees to get a better look. “What’s going on? Why are you crying?”
“I’m sorry.” I wipe at my eyes from behind my glasses. “I’m never this emotional, but you do something to me that turns me into a mushy, unstable female.”
He chuckles and whispers, “I hope that’s a good thing.”
I don’t answer him, I can’t, my throat is all jammed up, so instead of reaching for an answer, he grips my hand tighter—which only causes me to tear up all over again—and he guides me back to the field and into the dugout where we both take a seat facing each other on the bench. He sets his backpack down and grabs my other hand, bringing them closer.
“Milly, look at me.”
Through blurry eyes, I try to focus on the man in front of me, the one I thought only saw me as his coach, as a possible friend, never anything like this, like he described me as.
“Tell me these are all good, happy tears.”
I nod. “They are.” I take a deep breath. “I’m sorry I’m such a wreck. I . . .” I settle my racing heart. “This was the last thing I ever expected to happen.”
“Seriously? Milly, what do you think this last week has been?”
“I don’t know.” I shake my head. “My imagination?” A gentle brush-off?
He tilts his head to meet my eyes. “Your imagination? Does that mean you were hoping something would happen?”
I chew on the inside of my cheek. “Are we being open an honest with each other?”
“Yes, if anything, I always want you to be open and honest with me.”
“Then yes, in my wildest dreams, I thought about you actually looking at me as someone other than your coach. But honestly, I was convinced it would never happen. I’m always the friend, never the girl guys want to be with.”
He cups my chin and says, “You are the girl I want, the girl I want to be with.” His face gentles, and a small smile picks up the corner of his lips. “Will you go on a date with me, Milly . . . tonight?”
“Tonight?”
I nod. “Tonight. If you say yes, I have everything we need in my backpack.”
“Seriously? You were planning this?”
“I should have planned it here all along, but I was nervous as shit to show you how I felt.”