Page 131 of The Strike Zone

Blue eyes bored into mine; the longer they held there, the quicker I could feel mine misting over.

“I’m sorryIwas such an asshole.” She grinned, holding her hand up before I could object, which I was about to do. “It was an asshole move asking you to lie for me. The interview process was stressing me out and I didn’t realize what I was asking of you. I didn’t know how serious the implications were. But I’ve fixed it, you’re not going to get into trouble.”

“I heard you spoke to Coach. You didn’t have to do that.”

Her thumb moved against the top of my hand, taking care not to touch the drip tube. “I did. I also spoke to Lowe Slater, I told her I didn’t want the job.”

My brow furrowed hard. “You did what?”

“It’s okay, I did it for me as much as you. I want to stay in my current position, I’m not ready to move on from it.”

“Did they even offer it to you?”

She shook her head. “No, I pulled out before. I don’t think it would have been mine, they wouldn’t prolong the process if they wanted me to have it.”

“Are you sure?”

“One hundred percent. I don’t want the added pressure, I want to stay loving the job I have now. And I want to stay with you, if you’ll still have me.”

My brows shot up. “If I’ll still haveyou?Are you kidding? What about you still havingme?”

“I’ll still have you,” she replied, inching a little closer up the bed. “But no more sneaking around. When you get your phone, you’ll find an email from HR with the form to sign.”

“Does that mean we can go back to our morning coffees?”

“I’ll do you one better, sometimes we can drive in together and I won’t make you drop me outside the gates.”

My hand eased out of hers and found her thigh. “Wow, Davison, I have to say, that’s a real turn-on for me.”

“Yeah?” She leaned in.

“Yeah,” I mumbled against her lips, just as I realized what a huge mistake I was making. “ARRRGH. FUCK.”

I doubt Scout had ever moved quicker in her life. If I wasn’t writhing in pain, I’d be laughing at her sitting on the floor where she’d landed.

“Oh my god, Parker. Are you okay?” she cried, just as the door burst open again and I was once more the recipient of Deirdre’s disapproving glare.

“What are you doing? Why are you on the floor?” Deirdre barked at Scout, marching past her and over to the bed. “Mr. King, you have just had surgery. No hanky-panky. What did you think would happen?”

I was concentrating too hard on wishing away the pain to provide a cohesive answer. Plus, I hadn’t been thinking about anything other than Scout, and the feel of her lips on mine.

Nope. No. Do not think aboutthat.

“Young lady, I suggest you sit over there.” Deirdre pointed to the couch and left the room with a loudertssskthan she had last time.

“Are you okay?” Scout whispered, as though speaking at any kind of volume might set me off again.

“Yeah,” I groaned, “but I should probably take this opportunity to warn you I can’t have sex for at least six to eight weeks.”

“I think I can manage that. We’ll play Twister instead.”

I groaned louder, my eyes squeezed shut.

“Okay, maybe not Twister. Monopoly, or we can learn to bake. Or watch movies and eat pizza.”

“Pizza. I can eat pizza, and while I’m being honest, I should also tell you that I think I’m falling in love with you.” I waited a second, then eased one eye open. “You don’t look surprised.”

“I’m not.”

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