Page 61 of More Than Words

“Didn’t have to struggle much,” Adrian’s amused voice was in my ear once again.

“Yeah, but it’s hard to go back to a struggling player when you’ve experienced the rush of an all-star.”

“Hutch, you leave that poor girl alone,” Pops chuckled from past Adrian’s shoulder. “Besides, some women like the underdog. They try a whole lot harder to get the job done. Sometimes those all-stars get lazy. All flash and no bang.”

My eyes watered as I tried to smother a laugh. The O’Neill men were not what I would have expected. But they were all endearing in their own way.

As the game started and the day warmed up, Adrian and Hutch really got into it, shouting at the players, cursing at the umpire, high fiving behind my back when the Sox scored. It was loud, and I was sweaty, and likely sunburned, but I couldn’t imagine being anywhere else.

Hutch and Pops welcomed me into their little circle, teasing me just as much as they teased Adrian. Making crass jokes and not trying to mansplain the game to me. It was strange to feel so comfortable around a man’s family so soon. It’d taken most of the four years we were at Cornell to be comfortable with Grant’s family. Even though Adrian and I hadn’t even defined what was going on between us, I was trying not to question how right it felt.

My cheeks flamed while Adrian’s fingers traced the ragged hem on my shorts. He’d been touching me all day. Not anything blatantly sexual. But it was possessive. And I liked it.

The big screen on the far side of the stands drew my attention. The infamous kiss cam scrolling across, pausing briefly to capture a sweet kiss between an older couple as they laughed.

As the camera zoomed in again on its next unsuspecting victim, I was too distracted by the men on either side of me to register that it was my face staring back until Hutch leaned in, his beard tickling the side of my face.

“Which one is it gonna be, Bel? You want me to lay one on you to make my brother jealous?”

My cheeks heated while I continued to stare at my likeness, sandwiched in the tiny stadium seats between Hutch and Adrian’s broad shoulders.

“Nice try,” Adrian growled, leaning over and planting his palm in the center of Hutch’s face as the crowd’s laughter surrounded us. “She’s mine.”

I didn’t even have time to respond as Adrian firmly grasped the back of my neck and pulled my lips to his, claiming me with a searing kiss.

The noise of the surrounding crowd couldn’t compare to the sound of blood rushing in my ears when he slipped his tongue into my mouth, stealing any coherent thoughts.

“Damn, Ad,” I heard Pops chuckle from a few seats down. “Don’t eat the girl’s face. Let her breathe.”

When I regained my ability to speak, I took one from Adrian’s book, letting my uninhibited thoughts fly after I cleared my throat.

“I think I’m ready for that sausage now.”

“You alright with me dropping these two off before we head to my place?” Adrian asked while we followed Hutch and Pops out of the stadium. We’d waited in our seats for a while after the Sox narrowly pulled off a win in the 9th, reminiscing about the impressive plays during the game. By the time we stood to exit, the crowd had thinned to a tolerable level.

“A little presumptuous of you to think I want to go back to your place after our first date,” I answered distractedly, watching the two men in front of us.

“Cute that you think this is only our first date.” He chuckled, bumping his shoulder into mine.

“Eating take out with you on my couch hardly counts as a first date, and—”

“Eating you on your couch is now one of my favorite ways to spend a Friday night,” he interrupted with a grin, wiggling his eyebrows for effect. Shameless.

My cheeks flamed, but hopefully, my blossoming sunburn would conceal it, because recalling straddling Adrian’s smug face on my couch was warming up other things. Things I should not be thinking about when I had to spend the next half hour trapped in the car with his eighty-something-year-old grandfather.

“I’m sure this is breaking some kind of date protocol, but would you mind sittin’ in the back with Pops? He’ll probably be snoring by the time we hit the freeway, but Hutch has a hard time with his leg being crammed in the back seat.”

Tilting my head to the side, I studied the men in front of me again, noticing a break in Hutch’s gait, his balance favoring one side. He was also wearing cargo pants on a day when most other people around us were in shorts.

“We can talk about it when we get back to my place,” Adrian whispered at my questioning look, his fingers skimming the back of my hand. “He was injured when he served overseas. He’s got a prosthetic.” Another mystery about the twin I never knew existed. Apparently, Mr. Suit Porn’s brother had been in the military. “I know we’ve done this all out of order, but I think it’s time we sat down and talked. And not about anything related to work or how much of an ass you think I am.”

Nodding, I was startled when he slipped his hand into mine, squeezing before he laced our fingers together.

“You’re not a total ass,” I whispered, suddenly nervous at the butterflies that took up residence in my stomach. It was probably the hot dog.

“Don’t start overthinking, babe. I know you think I’m not capable of having a serious conversation without cramming my foot in my mouth, but I’m trying not to screw this up.”

The two of us sitting down and having a genuine conversation scared me more than any confrontation we’d had in the office. It’d been so much easier to dislike him than to see him how I was starting to.

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