Page 89 of Catching Feeling

“Stop trying to distract me from the fact that you’re a cheater.”

“Is it working?” I tease, kissing her again. My tongue traces the seam of her lips, slipping inside and stroking hers until we’re both breathless.

I pull back and gaze down at her. “Remember when I said I had a surprise for you this weekend?”

“No way. I thought Boo was the surprise! No more surprises, Reese.”

“Sorry, but my plan’s already in motion, Sweet Tart. I need you to be free Friday night. Can you please do that for me?”

Silence meets my question until finally, her sigh stutters against my lips, and she nods. “Fine. But I just need you to know that you don’t have to buy me things all the time, Reese. Even if it’s available to you, I don’t need material things. Please don’t think I’m unappreciative because that’s not it. I just don’t want you to think you have to constantly do things like this for me.”

“Baby, I do it because I love seeing you smile, not because of anything other than that. Alright? Plus, this surprise is… not technically a material thing. And I know that you’ll love it. That’s all that matters. Just be ready Friday when class is over, okay?”

“Okay.” She leans forward and slants her lips over mine, whispering, “Can we make up for that lost time now?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

22

viv

Boo! Look What You Made Me Do

In the days leading up to Reese’s surprise, I don’t see much of him. I’ve been at the library, both for my job and working on finishing a paper for English, and he’s been putting in extra time in the bullpen with Lane, practicing for their upcoming spring conference tournament. Which, I hear, is a big deal in college baseball. Not that I would know, but I learn more and more every day. It’s like a whole new world. Full of balls.

Literally and figuratively.

The only time I’ve really seen him is when he crawled into bed while I was writing, cuddled up with Boo against my side, and passed out the second his head hit the pillow.

Yeah, we’ve pretty much transitioned to sleeping in the same bed every night without ever officially making it a thing.

It kind of just happened, and I didn’t want to question it because at this point, it would feel weird to be in the same house and not fall asleep with his warm, hard body wrapped around mine like a blanket.

He has to be touching me somewhere anytime he’s in my presence, and I sometimes wake up during the night sweating because he’s the equivalent of a human heater.

I’ve gotten used to the feeling of sleeping next to him though.

And I like it.

Glancing in the mirror once more, I brush my hair out of my face and scan my outfit for tonight. I have absolutely no idea what he has in store, so I wasn’t sure what to wear, but he assured me that shorts and my Vans were fine.

I’ve gotta applaud the fact that he’s held out this long. Despite my attempts at… convincing him. Turns out he’s much better at keeping a surprise than I am. Even when my mouth’s involved.

“Viv, you ready? We gotta ride,” I hear him call from outside my bedroom door, and then he rounds the corner. “Gonna be late.”

He’s got on my favorite red baseball cap turned to the back with a black Hellcats hoodie and a worn pair of jeans, looking absolutely mouthwateringly delicious.

It makes me kind of want to stay home and ride him instead. “Stop looking at me like that, Sweet Tart, before we don’t make it out of this door.”

My teeth rake over my lip as I look up at him through my lashes. “I mean…”

His head shakes. “Nah. You would kill me if you knew what you’d be missing. Save all that energy for later—you’re gonna need it. Maybe tonight will be the night I finally take that pretty ass.”

I can feel the deep, raspy words in my core. I can’t help but clench my thighs together at the promise in his words, and if there’s something I’ve learned firsthand in the last few weeks, it’s that he always keeps his word. I wasn’t a virgin when I met him, obviously, but it’s one of the only things we haven’t done. Aside from his finger when he’s fucking me from behind.

And I want it. I want to feel completely full of him there. To give him that part of me.

“Fuck, Viv,” he mutters after my reaction to his words before closing the distance between us and tugging me to him, kissing me so fiercely that I have to hold on to the front of his hoodie not to lose my balance.

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