Page 36 of Pitcher Perfect
“Only because I feel a little bit guilty for implying that you’d be a ratbag boyfriend.” She pinched her fingers together and held them up to prove her guilt was scant, at best. “But the guilt is against my will.”
“Aha. You hurt my feelingsandyou get to avoid injury. This sounds abundantly fair.”
The guilt wasn’t so scant anymore. Was she being a bad teammate? Or too judgmental? Did everyone else keep the truth to themselves to be more likable and why couldn’t she seem to pull that off? “Maybe this is why I’m so bad at dating. I’m too blunt. Or honest. Or—”
“Hey, hey. No. Stop that.” Robbie clasped her shoulders in his huge hands and a weird tingle shot all the way down to her knees. “I’m only kidding around. If a guy can’t handle your bluntness, maybe that’s a good sign that he’s uncomfortable with honesty and you should run in the other direction, huh?”
The sudden wave of gratitude and belonging came as such a surprise, Skylar took a full five seconds to nod. “Okay. Thanks.”
His gaze dipped to her mouth, his bare chest expanding. “Welcome.”
Musk and cinnamon and... was it the taste of bare flesh coming off his torso and throat? Whatever it was, the trifecta made her eyelids feel heavy. Made her wonder again about how his beard would feel in her fingers. Or dragging sideways along her collarbone.
When his hands dropped from her shoulders, they both stepped back, visibly regrouping. After what? What had happened, exactly?
Was sheattractedto Robbie?
Surely not.
Just the dry spell talking.
Skylar did her best to circle her focus back to the task at hand. Despite Robbie’s assurances, she couldn’t help wanting to make up for what she’d said. Was there a way to gain some trust in each other and smooth over the awkwardness she’d caused?
Her eyes landed on her closet.
Maybe.
“I have an idea.”
He dragged his bottom lip through his teeth. “Skip to Thursday on the calendar?”
“Nope.”Ignore the way your skin is heating.“I’m going to let you read a page out of my diary. From when I was thirteen.”
“Shut up.” His jaw fell open. “I should make you feel guilty more often.”
“Don’t get too excited. You have to share something embarrassing with me, too.” She was careful not to brush their bodies together as she moved past him to the closet. “It’s a trust exercise.”
“Ah.” Robbie sighed dramatically. “If only I’d ever done anything embarrassing...”
“I’m sure you’ll dredge something up,” she said, while rummaging through a clear plastic storage container that held school projects dating back to middle school.
The bedsprings groaned as he sat down. “I’ll have to dig deep.”
“Doubt it,” she muttered.
“I heard that, Rocket.”
She almost—almost—apologized again for being so mean, butswallowed the sorry when she emerged from the closet to find him grinning and rubbing his hands together. “Are you picking the material? Or can I open to any random page?”
“Any random page will do. They’re equally humiliating, I’m sure.”
“Hand it over, girl. Let’s go.”
His visible excitement somehow made it easier than it should have been to hand over the small pink book. As soon as the diary was in his possession, Robbie cleared his throat as if preparing to deliver the Gettysburg Address and flipped to a section in the dead center. “June seventh, two thousand sixteen.” He smoothed a palm down the page filled with loopy blue printing. “Oh, we have some daisy doodles in the corner.Verynice.”
She slapped her hands over her face. “Shut up and read.”
“‘A lot of people have crushes on celebrities, but I feel like my crush on Kit Harington is totally different. I think if we met, he would get me. He would know I’m different. He would stop signing autographs and stare at me.’”
