Two hours later when I wake, it’s with her in my arms. A smile tilts my lips when she stirs and peers up at me. “Did you get rested?”
“Yeah,” she replies at the same time her belly growls.
“I need to feed you.”
“No, that’s fine. I’ll just grab something.”
“What kind of friend would I be if I left you hungry?” I make sure to emphasize the word friend when we both know we’re more than that.
“Right. Friends,” she says, moving away, but I capture her in my arms before she can get too far.
“You’re more than that. I’m letting you tell me when you’re ready to label this as something other than friends. Until then, we’ve agreed that neither of us are seeing other people.”
“Did we agree to that?” she asks coyly.
“Damn right we did,” I say, moving my hands to tickle her sides.
“Stop!” She laughs. “I’m going to pee my pants,” she pants, squirming in my arms.
“Say it.”
“N-No one else,” she says, spluttering with laughter.
I release her, and she jumps off the bed, rushing to the bathroom. A few minutes later, she appears, leaning against the doorjamb. “That could have been bad, Cameron.” She points at me.
“I’ll take my chances. I need to go to my place and shower. Come over in twenty, and I’ll feed you.”
“Where are we going?”
“Nowhere. I’m going to cook for you.”
“You cook?”
“Yes, I cook.” I stand and adjust my cock. Her eyes follow the movement, and I don’t bother to hide my smirk. “I’m a man of many talents, Paisley.” I press my lips to her cheek. “I’m going to head to mine. If I don’t see you in twenty, I’m coming to find you.”
“Bossy,” she sasses.
“Not bossy, baby. Confident. I know I want to cook for you.” I shrug. “I’ll see you in twenty,” I say, pressing another kiss to her cheek. I have to force myself to step away from her and grab my bag. I don’t bother getting dressed since my condo is right next door to theirs. Instead, I walk out of her place in my underwear and quickly slip inside mine. I drop my bag next to the door and make my way to the kitchen to see what I have that I can whip us up for breakfast. Luckily, I had groceries delivered the day I moved in. It looks like omelets and strawberries it is. They need to be eaten anyway before they go bad. With the menu planned, I head to my room to shower.
I’m showered and in clean underwear when I start making us a late breakfast. Hell, I guess it’s lunch now. I crack some eggs into a bowl and whip them up before setting them to the side. I’m in the middle of chopping some fresh veggies when there’s a knock on the door.
“Come in!” I call out.
“Oh.”
I turn to find Paisley’s eyes locked on my ass. “Give me ten, and this will be ready.”
“Should you maybe, I don’t know, put on some clothes?” she asks.
There’s a flush on her cheeks, which is all the motivation I need to stay exactly the way that I am. “Nah, I need to feed you first.”
“I can wait.”
“Well, I’m starving. Have a seat.” I motion toward the small kitchen table. I was lucky that this place came furnished when I moved in. It made the move a hell of a lot easier, especially since I lived in a house with five of my teammates from the Outlaws.
“Can I help?”
“Nah, I’ve got this. There’s coffee in the pot and orange juice and milk in the fridge. Help yourself.”
“Sure. What are you drinking?”
“Milk for me.”
“Glasses?” she asks.
“Next to the fridge.” I point at the cabinet and get back to work chopping vegetables.
“Is Willow coming?”
“No. She’s already gone. She had to get to the office. Tonight is her late night.”
“What does she do?”
“She’s a social worker. Some of the things she sees, I don’t know how she does it.”
“She’s making a difference in a lot of lives.”
“She is,” she agrees.
“What time do you have to be at the stadium today?”
“Two. You?”
“Same.”
“Yeah, we need to be there to tape up the players, assist with stretches, assess injuries, those kinds of things.”
“You love it, don’t you?”
“I enjoy it. I’m still new, so I’m still getting into the swing of things, so to speak. It’s not playing, but it’s being a part of the game I love.”
“Is that because of your dad? Your love of baseball?”
“Maybe.” She laughs. “I can’t really be sure. My first season of T-ball was the year he met my mom. Apparently, when I met his teammates, I claimed them as my uncles and roped them all into playing catch if they were around.”
“Ah, Uncle Drew.”
“Yeah.” She smiles. “Uncle Drew. He and my dad are best friends, and he was victim to my request to play catch more times than I can count.” She takes a sip of her orange juice. “Anyway, I don’t know if that’s why I loved the game that much, or if it was my dad and his friends and their willingness to play ball with me that made me fall in love with the game. All I know is that I’ve always loved it.”
“I’d love to see pictures of little Paisley all decked out for a game.”
“Oh, don’t worry. My parents have plenty of embarrassing pictures of me. I think my mom kept all of my old uniforms from the time I started when I was four.”
“Really? My mom did the same thing. She said I would appreciate seeing them when I made the big leagues. It was all just a pipe dream at that time.”
“Look at you now.”
I nod. “Look at me now.”
“I remember when I first met my dad, I rambled on about wanting a pink glove. My mom looked everywhere, and she couldn’t find one locally. She was a single mom, busting her ass to make ends meet. Anyway, Dad, he found me a pink glove. I loved that thing. I still have it. It’s in a keepsake box in my closet.”
“I’d love to see it.”
“What?” she asks, surprised. “It’s just an old tiny pink glove.”
“Yeah, but it’s important to you.”
Before she can reply, her phone rings, I stay busy with making breakfast as she answers. “Hey, Dad,” she greets. “The games were good. The Blaze pulled off back-to-back wins.” She’s quiet for a few minutes. “Oh, no, I’ve already eaten. I think I’m just going to get caught up on laundry before heading to the field.” She listens again. “Great. I’ll see you all later then.” Another pause. “Love you too, Dad.”
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah, that was my dad. He wanted to see if I wanted to grab lunch before heading to the field.”
“Call him back and invite him over.”
“What?” she shrieks. “Are you crazy?”
“I’m going to have to meet him eventually, Paisley.”