The Dugout(61)

“It means we are exclusive. She’s mine and I’m hers, no one else is involved.”

“I see. I see.” Jerry taps the table and then leans forward and says, “She’s had two sexual partners her entire life, so what are your intentions sexually?”

“Annnd we’re done.” I stand abruptly from the table. “This was fun, but I need to get to class.”

“That’s fine.” Shane waves me away. “You don’t need to be here for this inquisition.”

Taking Carson by the hand, I pull him—

“Gasp.” Jerry points at my joined hand with Carson like an idiot. “Look, they’re holding hands. Aw, Milly.”

Shane and Jerry lean in together, holding their hearts and each other at the same time.

“Our little girl is getting everything she’s ever dreamed of,” Shane says on a fake sniff.

Yup, I should have waited to tell them. I love these two idiots and their protectiveness, but along with their shield comes relentless teasing. It’s something I’m used to—something I realize is an automatic consequence when hanging around guys—and I’m accustomed to absorbing each jab with little to no care.

But that doesn’t mean I don’t know how to vacate a situation before it gets out of control. And we are about one question away from total humiliation.

I point to my two obnoxious friends and say, “When you two get your shit together, maybe we can have another conversation.”

“Or a dinner date,” Shane says, releasing Jerry and going back to his plate.

“A dinner date sounds like a winning idea,” Jerry says, feeding off Shane.

Rolling my eyes, I pull on Carson’s arm, who says over his shoulder, “More than a winning idea, fellas, a dinner date must be penciled in to your schedules.”

“Anything for you, beefcake,” Shane calls out and pretends to dab at his eyes. “I’m just so happy right now.”

“Take her to the locker room,” Jerry calls out. “She’s totally locker room material.”

Yup, I’m going to murder the both of them. So glad I’ve had these past few years with them, but they’re dead to me now.

Locker room material . . . could that be any more embarrassing? As I drag Carson through the throng of students in the dining hall, I briefly consider whether Carson even believes in the locker room rumor. Surely not. I’m as superstitious as they come, growing up in a prominent baseball house, superstitions are nothing to joke about, but sex in a locker room? I’m not sure I can truly believe that . . . or get on board with the idea. Not that Carson would invite me.

I’m getting way ahead of myself.

Once outside, Carson slows me down, yanks on my arm, and presses me against the brick wall of the dining hall, so we’re not in the middle of the walkway.

“That was fun,” he says, leaning in and pressing a quick kiss across my lips. When he pulls away, he tugs on one of my French braids and says, “I like it when you wear your hair like this.”

I pull on the brim of his hat and say, “I like when you wear hats, because your eyes shine brightly under the brim.”

“Are we flirting with each other?” he asks, a giant grin spreading across his face.

“I think we are. Are you okay with that?”

“More than okay.” His lips connect with mine, soft and patient. There’s no aggressiveness to his kiss, not like last night when he couldn’t get enough. This go-around, he’s taking his time, exploring to the point that my muscles begin to turn into mush and my heart begins to hammer so hard in my chest that I have to pull away to catch my breath.

He keeps his head close so I can feel the smile on his lips. “You taste so good. I should have been doing this a long time ago.”

“If you did this a while ago, you never would have fixed your swing. You would have been too busy trying to count my teeth with your tongue.”

“Nah, I would have wanted to impress you. I would have fixed my swing, but I wouldn’t have parted so easily after we were done practicing.”

“Are you saying you can concentrate in the cages and not get distracted by touching me?”

“Hell yeah. When it comes to baseball, I’m all business, Coach.”

“Uh-huh,” I say skeptically. “Do you want to practice tonight?”

“Are you challenging me?”

“I might be.” I press a chaste kiss across his lips then step aside, leaving him with both hands pinned against the wall and looking over his shoulder. “Cages tonight, after your practice?”

“I’ll text you. Bring some electrolytes, we’ll be working our asses off.”

“We . . . or you?” I give him a quick wave then take off toward the main campus, but not before he calls out my name.

I turn to see him with his arms spread and a cocky grin on his face. “No goodbye kiss?”

Walking backward, I say, “You already took enough this morning. See you later, Stone.”

Pleased with myself, I pull my phone from my pocket to text my brother just as a pair of strong arms wrap around my waist and spin me around.

My breath knocked from my lungs, I glance up to see Carson lowering his head to mine. Then his mouth is claiming mine in the middle of the walkway just outside the dining hall.