Page 5 of Home Run

What was I doing?

Why was I hesitating?

Normally I’d take an open invitation like this without a second thought. Something very weird was happening to me tonight and I was starting to think I should have gone through the concussion protocol after the game. Maybe I knocked my big ugly head and didn’t realize it. Maybe I was unconscious in my hotel bed and this was all some fantasy my injured brain conjured up.

“Rhett?” She appeared in the doorway, leaned against the frame. Her breasts were fucking gorgeous in the soft light. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m debating whether I have a head injury or not.”

Her eyes did that dancing thing again. It was like mischief lived in her soul. “That’s either a fantastic compliment or a horrible insult.”

“Convince me this is real.”

She bit her lip again. She might have blushed. Hard to tell. “Compliment then. Groovy.”

Groovy? Who said groovy these days? Hope. That’s who. I certainly never said the outdated word. So maybe this was real after all.

She stepped out of the doorway and held out her hand. “There’s a little bit of a romantic in you, yeah?”

I balked. “I am not romantic. If anything, I’m an asshole.”

She closed one eye and examined me from head to toe. “Oh, you’re definitely a little bit of an asshole, but there’s a secret romantic hidden deep inside.”

“Why the fuck do you think that?”

“I can tell.”

I made a noise, really fucking pissed that she was seeing something in me that I didn’t. Mostly because I was pretty sure she was right.

“Do you kick puppies?”

This was hands-down the weirdest conversation I’d ever had. “No.”

“Do you drop babies?”

“Fuck no. I try not to hold them. Except for my nephews.” Those little assholes were getting just old enough to be fun.

“You have nephews?” She stepped even closer. “Tell me about them.”

“Why the fuck do you want to hear about a couple of seven-year-old miscreants?”

She placed her delicate hands on my hips and looked up, up, up at me with a grin. “Because you smiled when you mentioned them.”

“No I didn’t.”

“You did.”

Fuck. “They’re not awful and they like ice cream.”

Her hands slid around to the small of my back, our bodies touching again. “I like ice cream. Want some?”

“You have some? What kind?'' The idea of licking some off her skin appealed.

She turned, grabbing my wrist and pulling me forward. I went without any resistance. “You’ll have to come look inside my freezer to find out.”

“Is that foreplay?” I kicked the door closed.

“Yes.”

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