Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 25708 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 129(@200wpm)___ 103(@250wpm)___ 86(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 25708 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 129(@200wpm)___ 103(@250wpm)___ 86(@300wpm)
And then, though it kills me, I leave the center of my universe to go play a baseball game, knowing my mind will be on her the whole time.
Today, tomorrow, until I take my last breath.
6
Scout
After the game, I meet Cash behind the stadium. The same security guard who babysat me during the game waits with me and as soon as Cash storms through the rear entrance, hair still wet from his post-game shower, I’m swept up into his arms without so much as a hello, his arms banding around me possessively on the way to the parking lot. He settles me into the passenger side of his truck, the scent of soap clinging to him.
I inhale it like a beggar, my nipples puckering in my tank top as he slides the seatbelt in between them, my lungs ceasing to function properly. My virginity is gone. He took it. On a desk. While the entire baseball team and coaching staff were within earshot. I’m still reeling from the experience…and wondering why I wouldn’t change a single detail.
I loved it. I loved how he spoke to me with such harsh language.
I loved how roughly he handled me.
I loved the sensation of his come spurting inside of me, hot and thick, the way he groaned as it happened, like he’d been waiting his whole life to give me what his body produces.
“You played great,” I say, sounding totally breathless. Like a simpering freshman mooning over the star baseball player, because that’s exactly what I am. Aren’t I? “Two home runs. Three RBIs. The pitcher looked like he wished he’d stayed in bed.”
He pauses in the act of fastening my buckle, his gaze dragging down over my body. My breasts, my thighs, then back up to my lips, which seem to plump beneath his rapt attention. “I was just trying to end the game so I could get back to you.”
“Oh,” I whisper, studying him for signs that his feelings are authentic. Not make-believe. “Because you were worried about the stalker?”
A drawn-out silence ensues. “Something like that.” He clicks the buckle home, his big warm palm sliding up my thigh, massaging me just beneath the hem of my skirt. “I’ve been thinking, maybe we should go somewhere in public. Like we’re on a date. See if we can draw him out into the open.”
I’m in a weird blissful purgatory.
On one hand, the idea of going on a date with Cash makes my heart race wildly.
On the other, he keeps implying it’s all in the name of catching my stalker.
Maybe it is.
Maybe I’m being naïve in thinking he wants to be with me beyond this single weekend.
And perhaps I should enjoy him while I have him. “Okay,” I say, swallowing the knot in my throat. “What do you want to do?”
Am I imagining things or are his pupils dilating? “I bet he’s always wanted to take you to the movies. Is there anything you want to see?”
“I love the movies,” I say, enthused, sitting up straighter. “I went to the movies yesterday with friends. We saw a rom-com…so maybe we should go see Hidden Master tonight? The one about the guy who follows his ex-girlfriend to college and follows her everywhere…” I trail off with a wince. “Or maybe that’s a little too close to home.”
“No. I think that’s the perfect choice.”
“Maybe it is.” I shrug. “I hear she kills him at the end. It could be empowering.”
His expression is momentarily strange. Like a combination of amusement and dread. But it fades into thoughtfulness. “Do you…feel powerless, Scout?”
“A little bit,” I say honestly. “Some faceless person is controlling my life from behind the scenes. Telling me I can’t date…or he’ll kill me. Giving me nightmares. Forcing me to go everywhere with protection, wondering when I’ll receive another letter or email. It’s scary.” I lean forward, pressing my nose into the freshness of his neck. And I leave out the part where the letters make me feel buoyant. Alive. Itchy. “But I don’t feel scared when I’m with you. I feel safe. And the fact that we’re trying to catch my stalker makes me feel proactive, instead of like I’m hiding.”
“Good,” Cash says, sounding a little choked, his fingers combing through my hair. “Nothing is going to happen to you as long as you’re with me. That I can promise.”
“I know,” I whisper, following an impulse to touch my tongue to his neck, surprised when he releases a guttural sound, his hand tightening painfully on my thigh. But I’m shocked to find that it’s a pain I like. I like the way he inflicts it, like his body is out of his control. “I’ve always wanted to make out at the movies,” I breathe into his ear.
With you, I say to myself, afraid to reveal that I’ve been harboring serious feelings.