Page 24 of Spring Break with a Bass Player
Shaking her head, she grins. “So, do you want to go with me?”
“Definitely.” I nod, a smile stretching across my face. “Let me grab a different shirt.”
Stepping inside, Saige walks past me into the living room, and I can’t ignore the way my sister smiles at her like they share some kind of secret. The idea is mildly terrifying, but I can’t dwell on it now.
Instead, I hustle down the hall and pull my shirt over my head as I enter my bedroom, tossing it in the hamper as I grab my favorite Illinois Blues baseball tee. It’s worn and faded with gray sleeves that used to be a lot darker. Grabbing a hat, I’m almost out the door when the bottle of cologne on my dresser catches my eye.
I don’t wear it often , but this feels different.
This feels like a date.
But more than that, she’s trying and that means I should too.
Here goes nothing.
SAIGE
The Illinois Bluesare ahead in the bottom of the sixth, and it’s damn near impossible to concentrate with Bridger sitting so close to me. Somewhere around the top of the third, he draped his arm over the back of my seat, the movement bringing me closer to him. He smells delicious, the scent of his cologne doing something to me that we are verynotready for.
“Who is that again?” I ask, pointing at a random player on the field to distract myself from jumping the man in the seat next to me.
“That’s Colt Harrington. He’s the shortstop and he— Oh, hey,” he whispers as he motions toward the video screen. It takes me a second to realize what I’m looking at.
Oh shit.
“We obviously don’t have to,” I say quietly, turning toward him. I’d only meant to look at his face—try to get a read on what he’s feeling, what he’s thinking. But the movement brings us nose to nose, and all I want to do is throw myself at him.
The roar of the crowd is deafening, people cheering and shouting things I can’t make out over my pulse pounding in my ears.
“Just kiss her already!”someone behind us yells as my eyes drop to Bridger’s lips and the way they’re curved up into a smile.
“I think I will.”
With his arm around my shoulders, his other hand cups my face as he slants his mouth over mine, his lips soft and enticing and gone far too quickly.
“I can’t kiss you like I want to in this stadium,” he murmurs when he pulls away. “And now it’s all I can think about.”
Me too.
“How many innings are there?” I ask, the words breathy and full of need even though Iknowwe shouldn’trush into anything.
But maybe I can get away with some heavy petting while we make out somewhere with a lot fewer eyes watching us.
“We can leave now if you?—”
“No,” I say firmly, his eyebrow arching slowly at my quick response. “I just mean we’rehereand it’s great—they’re playing great.”
“So, it’s great?” he teases, and I roll my eyes as we settle back into our seats, his arm still draped over my shoulders.
“Definitely great.”
16
BRIDGER
Saige and I somehow make it through the game without mauling each other, but it’s close. I can tell by the way she drags her thumb back and forth over our joined hands and the flirty looks she throws my way that she’s thinking the same thing.
My team won, but I can’t think of anything I care less about as we follow the crowd through the stands. Saige’s hand is warm in mine, our fingers locked in a death grip that says a hell of a lot about the desperation we’re both feeling.
