Page 37 of Pitcher Perfect
“Good lord.”
“Oh, it’s good all right.” He bit his lip to trap a laugh. “AGame of Thronesgirl, were you?”
Skylar groaned. “How much longer is this page?”
The man was enjoying himself way too much. “Well, you have three lines of overlapping hearts here, which must be some kind of code. Heart heart heartheartheart heartheart. Am I pronouncing that right?”
“Just skip the hearts, smart-ass,” she said, picking up a pillow and hitting him with it.
“‘Kit would come to my softball game and everyone would be like OMG. My parents would just have to effing deal with it.’” Robbie lost it on that part, collapsing backward onto the bedwith his sides shaking. “?‘Kit would tell Elton to stop making fun of me. Or else.’?” He closed the diary, biting his lip until it turned white. “Tragically, that’s the end of the page.”
“Thankfully, you mean.”
“You better hide this before I read the rest and make it my whole personality.” He made her tug on the diary three times before releasing it. “Are you ready for my embarrassing contribution? I managed to recall the one incident of my lifetime where I wasn’t obscenely cool.”
“Don’t leave me in suspense.”
He sat up and reached for his phone, which he’d left charging on the surface of her dresser. After a few moments of scrolling through his photo library, he handed her the device. “Mailer took this video of me in the shower.”
She snatched back her hand. “Whoa, whoa, whoa.”
“Relax, you won’t see anything.” He tossed the phone in her direction where it landed with apfffon the bedding. “But let me know if you want to. A team shower sounds like a good trust building exercise, too.”
“Challenge yourself to not be gross for ten minutes.”
His only response was to grin and stack his hands beneath his head, turning himself into a muscle buffet right before her very eyes. Not to mention the very unmissable ridge raising the leg of his sweatpants. A popular dish, surely. Who wouldn’t pile their plate high with that—
“You going to hit play, Rocket?”
“What? Yeah.” She picked up the phone, chagrined to find her hand was a little sweaty. “I’m terrified, but here goes...”
It took a full ten seconds for Skylar to figure out what she was hearing.
“That’syousinging in the shower?”
“That’s me.”
Her mouth fell open, spine zipping straight. “Hold on, you’re actually kind of a good singer. How is this embarrassing...?”
It finally registered that he was singing “Get’cha Head in the Game” from the originalHigh School Musicalsoundtrack.
“Oh.” Skylar tumbled sideways onto the row of pillows, her breath knocked out of her in a whooshing laugh. “Ohhhhnooooo.”
He took the phone back, presumably hitting pause, because the sound of his passionate crooning no longer filled the air, though her eyes were too tear-filled to confirm.
“What do you think?” Robbie asked, his voice coming from above. “Did this trust building exercise work?”
Skylar’s laugh cut out when she opened her eyes, finding his face inches from her own, his expression one of rapt fascination. Why? Because she was laughing?
“Yeah,” she said, winded, sitting up quickly. “Yes, I’d say it worked. You?”
“Sure.”
Neither one of them said anything for several seconds, during which it became very clear they were not only having a good time together, they were having a good time togetheron a bed. In their sleep clothes.
“Do you want me to sleep on the floor?” he asked, gruffly.
“No. We’re... we can be mature about this. Don’t be silly.”
