Page 56 of Left on Base

That’s when I notice Camdyn still hasn’t gotten her shirt on. She’s turned away from Jameson, but this perverted kitten is straight-up staring at her chest like he’s never seen anything so fascinating.

Relatable, bro. Relatable.

Cam grabs my hoodie, laughing despite herself. “What the hell, dude?” One hand covers Mookie’s eyes, and he bolts for Jameson, who thankfully turns his back.

The hoodie swallows her, cheeks blazing—embarrassment or something else, who knows. She grabs her phone and heads for the door without looking up.

I follow while Jameson coos over Mookie, who’s exploring his new bed like it’s the most fascinating thing in the universe. At least someone’s getting what they want.

At the door, she hesitates. Those green eyes lock on mine, full of secrets I wish I could read. “I'll, uh, see ya at the game.” She nods to Jameson. “Good luck.”

He returns the gesture with a smile. “Thanks.”

Pause here. Do you see it?

The emotion in her eyes?

The strain in mine?

Things could be different, but I don’t know how to make that happen. Neither does she.

“I’ll walk you out.” I glance back at Jameson. “He better know how to use that damn litter box.”

Jameson doesn’t look up, completely absorbed in dangling a string for Mookie. “Mhm.” His cat-dad transformation would be hilarious if my heart wasn’t flipping out.

The second we’re in the hallway, I pull her in, arms wrapping around her like they belong there. Her shampoo hits me—vanilla and something else that’s just her. This girl. She’s everything familiar and everything I try to forget, but can’t. “Sorry about that.” I hold her longer than I should, way past when a normal hug would end. I can’t let go. Won’t.

“It’s okay. It was funny.” Her voice vibrates against my chest.

“If you say so.” My laugh shakes us both. Above us, the fluorescent lights flicker, painting weird shadows on the carpet. “I’ll text you a link to some good seats for tonight.”

“Okay, I’ll take Callie,” she mumbles into my shoulder, fitting there like she never left.

I need to go. But my arms won’t listen to my brain. Words build in my throat. I want more, want what we had, but swallow them back. Instead, I kiss her, drowning my desperate thoughts. I don’t care that we’re in the hallway, don’t care about doors opening, or the bass from someone’s room.

What matters is making her understand physically what I can’t say out loud. I don’t know if she feels it too. What I do know is this thing with Camdyn isn’t something I can cut out, even if I wanted to.

My tongue slides against hers and the kiss turns from desperate to deep. Romantic, even. Maybe it’s my way of showing her she’s more than convenient. Always has been.

Slowly, I break the kiss, move to her ear, feeling her shiver. “Ya believe me?” I pull back, memorizing every detail—light freckles across her nose, the way her eyes catch the harsh hallway light.

She smiles, lips still swollen. “Believe you?”

My breath hitches, but I say it anyway. “That I missed you.”

“Oh.” Her laugh is soft, intimate. “Mmm, I’d definitely say you missed me.”

I wink and fix my hoodie on her. Seeing her in my clothes does something to my chest I’m not ready to unpack. “Good.”

She takes a deep breath, her chest rising against mine. “Good luck.”

I smile through the ache. “See you soon.”

We separate, but I can’t help stealing one last look. That’s when it hits me—the harder I try to resist her, the weaker I get. The realization sits heavy in my gut.

Could we have more? Is that even possible after everything I’ve done? The questions echo, unanswered.

That last look turns into me watching her walk away, throat tight. I hate seeing her leave, even knowing she’s coming to the game. That girl isn’t mine anymore. Not in the way that counts, and it kills me. Some days I think about walking away and letting her move on. Maybe it’d be better. But I can’t. Neither can she. We’re stuck in this limbo of wanting and waiting.

---