Page 11 of Hitting the Gap

“So she does this for multiple players?”

“Yeah, some of the guys hate cooking, so she cooks their meals, does meal prep and grocery shopping, dry cleaning that sort of thing. I hate grocery shopping and no one wants to clean a toilet on their day off, so Sylvia takes care of all that for me. I just didn’t want you to be surprised if you saw some random woman in the apartment.”

“I appreciate that.”

“I’ll give her a call while I’m home and let her know you’re here as well, but feel free to add anything you want to the grocery list.”

“I’m not going to put my groceries on your shopping list, Gonzo.”

“Why not?”

“You’re already letting me stay with you for free. I’m not going to start adding my food as well.”

“Up to you, but I’m telling her to double everything when I’m home if I’m cooking.”

“That’s fine. Just let me know what I owe you each week.”

“Yeah, that’s not happening.”

“Gonzo.” She glared at him, making it very clear she was not happy about him paying for stuff. Well, tough, it wasn’t up for discussion.

“I could use a soak in the hot tub. You want to come?”

“You have a hot tub? Where?”

“Up on the roof. I have a little private rooftop patio thing up there that’s perfect for the hot tub.”

Bailey nervously chewed the inside of her mouth. “I don’t really love wearing a bathing suit in public.”

“It’s not public. I’m the only one who has access to it. No one can even see you in there. Fuck, I go naked half the time, but I’ll cover the goods for you.”

“Gee thanks,” she mocked. “Still, I ju—just,” she stammered.

“Bailey, I’ve seen you in a bathing suit a million times.”

“Yeah, but not recently.”

“Bailey, I’ve examined your butthole as a kid. I’m pretty sure any kind of changes to your clothed body are a moot point.”

Her eyes bugged out. “You did not just say that?”

“Yeah, I did. It’s true.”

“We were five,” she screeched.

“Still counts. I’ve seen all your naughty bits in detail, so seeing you in a bathing suit isn’t going to shock me.”

She mumbled something that sounded a lot like, “That’s what you think.”

“Don’t be a prude. Put your bathing suit on and come soak off the shitty day.”

“I’m not being a prude,” she grumbled.

“You kind of are. It’s a body, Bay, we’ve all got one.”

“Fine, but no laughing.” She pointed her finger at him.

Why the hell would he laugh? He placed his hand on his heart. “Promise. If it makes you feel more comfortable, I won’t even look.”

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