Page 95 of Catching Feeling

“I didn’t book this house,” I tell her, and she exhales in relief. “My… parents own it.”

The car pulls to a stop in the circular driveway in front of the house, and I climb out before turning back to take Viv’s hand, helping her out into the warm sun.

Her jaw is still hanging open as she surveys the grounds and house in front of us. I take in this house, trying to see it through Viv’s eyes. The terracotta roof and the custom carved front doors, the large flower-covered balconies with wrought iron accents, and the limestone pathways with manicured grass lines. I can admit that it’s beautiful, and for a minute, Viv is speechless.

“Reese. This is crazy. I realize that I keep saying that, but I think I’m in shock. How many more houses do you have?”

My parents have…. quite a few more houses, but none of them technically belong to me.

I shrug, shutting the car door behind us. “A few. I don’t visit much with school and ball, so it’s really my family and their friends that get to use all of them.”

Honestly, my parents’ wealth has never been a huge deal to me. Granted, I know I grew up extremely blessed and had access to things a lot of people didn’t, and I’m thankful for that. For the opportunities I’ve had. But if it all went away tomorrow, then it would just… go.

And I would be fine.

Yeah, I’m aware money can make things easier. I also know how nice it is to not have to worry about paying for stuff, to be able to do shit like this for Viv and for my friends, but it doesn’t define me. I’ve worked really fucking hard to set myself up to make my own money with my baseball career.

“Come on, I wanna show you the inside.” I grab her hand and tug her toward the front door. I quickly get the heavy wooden doors open and bring her inside, giving her a second to look around at the entryway with the grand staircase and the mosaic Spanish tile flooring.

“This is fancy, even for you, All-Star,” she teases before she pauses to admire the oil painting my mom had commissioned last Christmas of all four of us, mostly as a joke for Dad. But of course, he called her on the bluff and insisted we hang it, so now it’s definitely… a conversation piece.

“Blame my mother and her sense of humor for that one. That thing creeps me out—the eyes follow you when you walk, I swear,” I mutter, grabbing her hand once more and guiding her toward the sitting room.

I give her a tour of the house, including the kitchen, where I plan to have her for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, the theater room, most of the downstairs, and then the large patio with the pool. It’s got a waterfall with a Jacuzzi and overlooks the ocean. One of my favorite spots in this house.

Then, I take her upstairs to show her the master bedroom that’ll be ours while we’re here.

“There’s a bathtub, Reese. On the balcony.”

I nod, my lips curving into a smirk. “Yup. And I can’t fucking wait to get you in it.”

She walks around the room, gazing at every little detail before approaching the king-size bed in the middle of the room and dramatically flopping down backward on it like a starfish.

Fuck, she’s cute.

“I’m never leaving this spot.” Sighing happily, she burrows into the mountains of pillows and the thick blue, down comforter on the bed until I crawl over her, covering my body with hers.

My gaze holds hers as I slowly start to tug her shirt up, then dip my head and drag my lips languidly along her jaw. “Don’t worry, Sweet Tart. I’ll make sure you’re too exhausted to leave.”

I’M NERVOUS AS FUCK. I feel like this is happening a lot lately, me being nervous about something. About something with Viv.

And it’s not a feeling that I’m used to experiencing. I’m generally calm and collected under pressure. I’ve played in sold-out stadiums with crowds chanting my name. Held my composure and made key plays in high-stakes games. But this feels different.

This one conversation is going to change everything. Good or bad, it’s going to shift things between Viv and me. I hope like fuck she feels the same way that I do. That we’re doing more than just hooking up, but if she doesn’t… I’m going to be heartbroken for the first time in my life.

That’s a scary fucking feeling.

But I have to be honest with her before this goes any further, before I fall harder.

“Hey, can we talk about something?” I ask, trying to hide my nerves. We’re sitting on the patio, listening to the ocean as we rock in the porch bed after having dinner on the beach. I always thought it was ridiculous that my parents had this thing installed when we moved in since we come here once, maybe twice a year, but right now, I’m thankful for it. It feels like the perfect place to tell her how I feel. The sun is painting the sky in shades of orange and blue as it sets. It’s the perfect temperature, cooler at night than during the day.

Viv turns to look at me, her eyes worried. “What’s wrong?”

She looks so fucking beautiful like this. Her hair is wild and blowing in the breeze, freckles scattered lightly across her nose from the sun, her skin slightly red after our time by the pool, making her eyes look an even brighter blue.

“Nothing. Nothing,” I say quickly, reaching out and grabbing her hand, lacing my fingers in hers. “I just…”

The worried brow furrow I spent all day watching melt away starts to return as I stumble with my words.

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