Page 3 of Catching Feels

“My brothers are professional athletes; they can afford it,” I remind Mom.

“Can afford what?” Roman asks from behind me.

“She’s swooning over the purple mattress again.”

“It’s a double.” Roman kisses her cheek. “You swoon over a king, not a double.”

“I’d get lost in a king.” She kisses his cheek back. “I’m more than happy with a good book in a double. Goodnight, my Harts.”

“I’ll walk you out,” Roman says, following behind her.

“Reels starting in ten … nine … eight … seven … six …” AJ Tereira, six-foot-two, hot as hell Brooklyn raised centerfielder and one of the three displaced Slugger Row players still crashing at CeCe’s, calls to us.

Blaze Bennett Jr, the Jags’ starting pitcher, is also hot as hell, but that stick up his ass and the fact he acts uncomfortable around us takes him from ten to nine-point-five; and Nour Uyar, the six-foot-three, two-hundred-twenty-three-pound catcher who is so hard to read, are the other two.

“Rome’s walking his mom out. Chill.” Nour Uyar’s deep voice pours over me like warm water on a cold day.

Sweet Jesus, I think as he passes me, leaving the smell of man, soap, and a hint of something extremely sexual to waft in the air.

If all three of these players’ books were on a shelf, I’d find Nour’s dark exterior the most alluring, and it would be the one I’d pull down from the shelf and read first. On the surface, he seems so laid back, yet I’ve witnessed his quiet restraint and find it extremely sexy.

A few weeks ago, there was a fight at O’Donnell’s, and when others jumped in, he stood back but not too far. His dark brown eyes were honed in entirely on the situation, as if he were assessing the situation and would step in if needed.

There have been games where Bennett’s pitches have been called poorly on the field, and from sixty feet and six inches, you can tell Nour remains calm and soothes Bennett’s anger or anxiety.

His body is so sexy. He’s built like a Greek statue. Okay, well, the body type. But the dick size? Those statues always seem to have below-average-size cocks. I know Nour is packing—I’ve seen the outline of his dick in sweats, sans the cup.

I’m not all that experienced because, hello, two brothers made me any decent guy’s little sister, but I’ve done my research, and his dick isn’t resting on his balls; it’s hanging long, thick, and proud. It passed Go and collected two hundred dollars, if you know what I’m saying. You can even see the outline of his head, and even though giving a BJ isn’t something I’d like to do for fun, my mouth has watered more than once when I’ve been able to sneak a peek. I imagine he has the kind of dick you’d want to high-five for being awesome but fear you’d hurt it.

His ass? Perfection. Not that I’d be into eating ass, but I’d love to bite his to see if it’s as hard as it looks. Catchers have the best asses, anyway, due to the fact they squat for half the game. And then there are those nipples, and I am generally not turned on by a man’s nipples, but Nour’s are so perfectly placed and proportionate on his pecs that I’d love to bite them, too.

“You wanna help me out?” Cora laughs, drawing my attention back to the here and now while she juggles plastic movie-theatre-looking popcorn containers. She nearly drops them when she looks at me. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” I force a laugh.

“Yeah,” she sighs as I take a couple of the containers from her hand. “You and me both.” Then she whispers, “I need to get laid.”

We both start laughing but stop when we hear the clearing of a voice.

Thinking it’s Roman returning, I look back and see Nour freaking Uyar holding up my phone. “This either of yours?”

1

May

Jillian

I wake to the sound of my phone vibrating on the nightstand and slap at the surface before finally finding it. Rolling to my side, I rub my eyes with one hand and squint as the bright light from the phone screen renders me temporarily blind.

When I’m finally able to see, I realize it’s a notification from Flingshot.

“What the hell?” I mumble, wondering how I managed to turn the notifications back on since I always make sure to check, only when the app is in use. But then I see it’s from SportsManSam and am a little less annoyed because at least he’s funny and has a hot body.

SportsManSam: What’s up?

I blink a few times, contemplating closing the app and trying to fall back to sleep but fuck that, he’s already disappointed me in bed, and he deserves to hear about it. Well, read it, anyway.

GoodtimesOnly: Are you seriously coming at me with ‘What’s up?’ After that bio, I was sure you’d give good banter.

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