Page 104 of Chasing Headlines

“Oh. Sorry. Just thinking.” It stopped. Her hand slid over my shin . . . and needed to keep going. Heat pooled in my abdomen. I held my breath.

Her hand stilled. “Um, Coop?”

“Yeah.” My voice rumbled as I forced it through my lips.

“Can I sit beside you? I'm, uh this—please?” The last word pitched up an octave.

“Yeah.”

What happened next was a strange series of shuffling and her hands in awkward places. When she placed her palm on my chest and finally spilled next to me, it was all I could do not to trap the thing there. To keep her near.

And then she was sittingso close. The citrusy scent of her perfume or shampoo tinged the warm space beside me. An electricity crackled in the darkened room. I swallowed, hard. “Better?”

A hesitation. A breath. Something pulled or pushed, but I needed to be closer. Maybe she understood what was happening. Maybe she felt this same?—

“You could let me interview you? Storyline: Standout Baseball Prodigy Needs More Hugs.” Her hair brushed my arm. “In a touching battle that reminds us that athletes are more than their exploits on the field, freshman Striker Breslin Cooper holds a simple desire. This powerhitter and former number one in the high school baseball rankings, frankly, he just needs a hug.”

My heart skipped a beat at the sound of my name. When everyone else in the world seemed to forget I had a first name at all, she would say it—with just a hint of an accent that was uniquely her.

“You could have your own crowd of little helpers hanging around the locker room.”

“Helpers?”

“You know, like the gaggle of women who follow Tanner everywhere.”

I grumbled. “Don’t compare me to him. And no, no interview.” I leaned my head back against the wall.Fuckin Meyers.

“Well, I tried. It'll be a weird gap in my reporting. Never being able to feature a quote or an interview from one of the starting roster. I wonder how long it'll take Mrs. P to notice.” Shesighed. “If I can even land the assignment. Not looking good so far.”

I had no idea what she was talking about. Or why.

“But, when we get out of here, I’ll give you a hug. If you want.”

My stomach dropped into that heated, simmering pool in my abdomen. Oh, if there was one thing I couldn’t deny, it’s that Iwantedher wrapped around me. All of her.

“You don’t have to, though, I know we’re not exactly friends. Coworkers, maybe? But if it would help or anything, I'm here. Do you have to like the person for it to be helpful? Keep you from your downward spiral into delinquency and all that.” Trembling fingers found my forearm.

“Not sure. They’d probably have to be quiet, though.”

A harsh puff of air rushed from her lips. “Oh ha ha ha. I talk anormal amount. You don’t-talk an abnormal amount. And then there’s your Storm Cooper glare.”

“Patent pending,” I said to the outline of her in the dark.

There was a pause. “Did you just say patent pending? Was that like an actual joke? Are you ok? You’re really coming unglued being locked in here.”

“I thinkyou’rethe one who's nervous.”

“I'm fine. I'll be fine. There's air, we can breathe.” She inhaled a shaky-sounding breath, as her hand tightened around my arm. “Right? When you said 'seal', that didn't mean air, did it?”

“There's a vent.”

“Ok good. See, nothing to worry about. Totally fine.”

The heat in my stomach flickered higher, warming my chest. “My . . . mother would struggle with feeling shut in.”

“Oh. Yeah.” She shifted, and her touch lightened. “Hospital rooms can be small.”

“She would give me this look, and that would be my cue to get her out of there, take her for a walk.” I rubbed the back of my neck. “When she couldn't, anymore. It was like . . .” I stared into the dark haze of the room.

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