Page 39 of Strike Zone

Her skin breaks out in goosebumps, but any other reaction is hidden behind a solid poker face.

“Might as well eat sawdust,” I say, backing away and passing her the plain animal crackers. “These aren’t even real cookies.”

Wren elbows me in my side. Son of a bitch. “You really got to stop hitting on me, birdie.”

“You’ve really got to stop calling me that. It’s juvenile.”

“Says the woman who enjoys eating crackers in the shape of little animals.”

“Make fun all you want. They’re my favorite.”

I hold up my hands in surrender. “Get whatever you like. Don’t come crying to me when you want something with a little flavor.”

“You are the last person I would ever go crying to.” Her words are spoken with conviction, strong and steady as always. But her eyes flash with an uncertainty that tells me she doesn’t believe what she’s saying any more than I like hearing it.

We make quick work of the rest of her list. I’m glad to see everything I texted her made the cut. I had a good time texting her one item at a time. By the eighth item she decided to video call me.

We ended up talking for over an hour. By talking I mean I would say something and she would make a smart ass comment about it.

Later that same night Charlie’s voice filtered through my dreams again but it wasn’t her. The image was blurry but I know it wasn’t Charlie. I barely got any sleep. I was a wreck at practice and Coach was pissed.

I’ve got to get this situation wrapped up so I can move on and get back on my game. You’ll never hear the words leave my mouth, but I will miss spending time with Wren when it’s all over. I don’t care what her teachers said. She gets along with me just fine.

“What’s that?” I ask Wren as she whips together cool whip, vanilla yogurt, and cake mix.

“Ooh that’s Wren’s special dip she makes. It’s so good when you dunk animal crackers in it,” Charlie informs me from the living room where she’s setting up the movie.

“Wyatt doesn’t like animal crackers,” Wren says, smiling. The little devil.

“I might.”

“No. You don’t. Tastes like sawdust. Remember?” She pushes up her glasses with the back of her hand.

“I might like them with that.” I nod towards the bowl of white whipped topping that smells like straight sugar.

“Too bad you’ll never find out because I’m not sharing this with you.” She moves the bowl out of my reach.

“Don’t be like that. Give me a taste.” My words register in my brain as one thing but somehow the translation gets twisted when it gets to my dick. It’s twitching in my jeans at the thought of tasting Wren. Which is bad. Very bad because I’m here to see Charlie.

A slight flush covers Wren’s cheeks and neck. Is her train of thought as dirty as mine? Because I am currently having a lot of thoughts about her that I shouldn’t. And if she’s thinking the same as me…stop.

She changed into something more casual when we got back to her place. Her hair is tossed up in a high ponytail that appears relaxed but is still perfectly put together. She threw on a pair of black leggings and a long sleeve shirt that keeps slipping off her shoulder exposing a thin strap of a tank top underneath.

It’s distracting me from my mission. Charlie and her haunting voice. That’s why I’m here. Focus man.

Wren has all the food spread out on the countertop in matching bowls and serving platters. She is quite the little hostess. I spy the animal crackers and snag a handful. Popping one in my mouth, I regret it immediately.

The cracker absorbs all the moisture in my mouth and turns into a gummy paste. Wren slides the bowl of whipped yogurt and cool whip closer to me. Her arms cross over her chest as she waits for the verdict.

I swipe the cracker through the dip getting a hearty spoonful. As soon as the sweet mixture hits my tongue, I brace myself on the counter and drop my head. I’ll be damned if I let her see the pure ecstasy on my face. Fuck, this stuff is good and addictive. I already want another bite.

“Not bad,” I say, once I finish chewing. Wren laughs. The sound pokes holes in the defensive walls I just forced myself to put up.

“More for me then. I wouldn’t blame you if you go back for more. I know it’s hard to resist.” Wren dips a cracker in the fluffy white goodness and pops it in her mouth. “So good,” she moans.

Son of a bitch. That sound. She’s doing this shit on purpose. She thinks she’s being cute rubbing it in my face that I was wrong about the damn animal crackers. Meanwhile, I’m hard as a fucking rock. No one should be laughing about that.

I scrub a hand down my face to wipe my memory clear. “Should we head in there?” I ask.

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