Page 5 of Swing and a Little Miss

"Who knew you were a softball shark, Abby?" Corinne gave her a hug. “You were amazing out there.”

Abby shrugged and finally broke eye contact with me. “Looks can be deceiving.”

Indeed they could.

As everyone started talking about hitting a bar to celebrate, I noticed Abby's expression waver. Her enthusiasm dimmed, and she almost curled in on herself.

“Abby, you’re coming with us, right?” Corinne was there again, hooking her arm through Abby’s. “It’s right down the street.”

"Uh, no, thanks. I'll have to pass on drinks, but you guys have fun."

As if she’d just announced she was an alien, everyone stopped talking and turned to look at her. Amongst the team, post-game drinks were a bit of a tradition, and anyone who didn’t partake was suspicious.

"Are you sure?” Brad stepped up and put his arm around her shoulders as if he knew her, but the way she cringed made me step closer too. “Come on, Abs. One drink won't hurt."

“She said no.” I leveled a death stare at Brad, and he immediately removed his arm before I did it for him. “You guys go on without us.”

“Us?” She waited until everyone drifted toward the locker rooms before following up with her question. “You’re not going either?”

"Nah, I don’t need to drink for fun anymore." I took a step closer, and she instinctively backed up against the chain-link fencing. “I drink enough with customers and prospective customers that my liver needs a break when I’m not trying to win business.” My party days were over. Now drinking was always part of networking or sealing deals, and it was hard to enjoy something when it was an occupational necessity.

“I’m the opposite. I only drink in the safety of my home unless I have someone to…” She stopped short and then looked up at me from under her long lashes. “Well, someone to make sure I don’t do anything silly.”

Something about her choice of words made me imagine things about her that probably weren’t true. But fuck, I liked thinking about her needing me to keep her safe when she was a little tipsy. “Smart girl.”

Her eyes darkened as if that were the secret code to break through to her. “Thank you.”

I stared at her for a few more moments before backing away. “We should probably get changed. Come on. I’ll walk you out.”

Right before she turned into the women’s locker room, she bit her lip and smirked. “How do you feel about floats?”

It took me a second to catch up to her. “Like, root beer?”

"Yeah." The corner of her mouth twitched upward in a smile. "Ever tried Mamma B's orange creamsicle float? It's got sherbet and pineapple whipped cream, and it’s the yummiest thing I’ve ever put in my mouth."

Fuck me. Now she was just messing with me. "Can't say I have, but I love yummy things in my mouth." I waggled my eyebrows, lightening the moment.

She giggled. "Then it's settled. You're coming with me to Mamma B's. We'll celebrate our win with ice cream instead of inebriation."

I raised an eyebrow, trying to talk myself into saying no, even as I caught her playful grin. Going out with her one on one was a bad idea. Definitely, not smart. Yet, I found myself nodding in agreement. "Alright, let's do it."

"Yay!" Abby clasped her hands in front of her chest and bounced a little. "Just give me a sec to hit the showers."

"Yeah, same." My pulse was already racing even as blood began to pool southerly.

Was this a date?Maybe she was just being polite. Or maybe she wanted someone to look after her now that it was dark out. I had no business thinking about a staff member as anything more than a colleague, but how could I resist?

And as far as I was concerned, it was definitely a date.

In the locker room, I peeled off my sweaty clothes and tossed them in the mesh pocket of my duffel. The heat from the game still radiated off me, and a trickle of sweat made its way down my spine.

As I stepped under the spray, the image of Abby rounding the plates with her ponytail swinging like a pendulum made my dick perk up. I cranked the temperature from hot to cold just to shock my cock into submission, but it didn’t help much. As I ran my hand over my skin to rinse off the sweat, I wondered what she was doing in her shower. Was she touching herself and thinking of me?

Fuck. I turned to get my backside and then turned off the spray. I brought loose jeans to wear home and didn’t want them tenting during our little ice cream float date.

It was getting harder to pretend I wasn’t attracted to her in a way that wasn't just about looks—it was about everything she was. And she’d been showing hints of having a Little side that intrigued me to no end.

My brain did its best to talk me out of pursuing anything more than a friendship, but if she showed any real interest in me, there was no way I’d deny her. I had to see where it could go.

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