Page 100 of The Problem with Players

“Yeah”—I sighed—“I do.”

“Here,” he said, grabbing a sweatshirt off one of the barstools. “It’s cold out there.”

We walked to the diamond together, and Nathan threw me a few pitches. Some I missed, others I knocked across the field. The chilled air brushed against my cheeks as his sweatshirt draped over my body. The more balls he threw my way, the more my body relaxed from the interaction with Wesley.

After we finished, I walked over to the pitcher’s mound where he was and took a seat. He sat beside me, bending his knees as he rested his crossed arms on them. I was slightly out of breath as I stared up at the star-laced sky. That was always one of my favorite things about Honey Farms. The amount of light pollution was much less than in town.

“I liked kissing you, Ave,” he said, pulling me back to the moment in my office. He didn’t look at me when he said the words. His stare stayed on the sky. Mine stayed on him. “I liked kissing you so damn much, but if it was too much for you, if you’re dealing with all your stuff, I don’t want you to think it had to mean anything. It meant something to me but doesn’t have to mean anything to you. No pressure. Plus, I sort of like what we’re becoming.”

“And what’s that?”

“Friends. We kind of skipped over the friendship thing when we were younger and went straight to love. Don’t get me wrong, I liked that. A lot. I’m just saying it also feels damn good to be your friend, too.”

I smiled and leaned toward him, resting my head on his shoulder. “I think I like being your friend, too, Nathan.” I looked back up at the sky. “These were some of my favorite moments with you. Sitting out here on this mound after a long day of working on the farm.”

“You’d always smell like the pigpens,” he joked.

“And you’d always try to kiss me.”

“What can I say? I liked my woman filthy.”

I laughed. “You were my first ever kiss, you know.”

“Yeah, I know.” He snickered, shaking his head. “A part of me still wants to be your last one, too.”

I lifted my head. “Nathan…”

He tossed his hands up in surrender. “Sorry. Friends. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“It’s not that I haven’t thought about you in that way because I have. But I’m still trying to find my footing. And like you said, we are so good right now. I’m scared if we move too quickly or move at all like we did when we were younger, we might explode again.”

His lazy smile spread, and he nodded. “I agree. Besides…what’s better than a bit of a slow burn? But I should get a shower in after working all day.”

“Turns out you’re the filthy one tonight.”

“You have no clue how filthy I can get.”

The sudden tingling between my thighs sure did wonder exactly how filthy that man could become. It turned out my brain and my body hadverydifferent reactions to Nathan Pierce.

He pushed himself to a standing position and then held a hand toward me. I took his hand, and he helped me stand.

“Thanks, friend,” I told him.

“Welcome, friend.”

“Just to be clear, even though we’re friends, I still hate you.”

He chuckled. “I’d actually be worried if you didn’t hate me anymore. It’s kind of our thing. You love to hate me, and I just kind of love to be within your orbit as you do so.”

We walked over to his house, and he held the back door open for me to move through. His voice made me pause as I walked down the hallway toward my room.

“Peas,” he said.

My least favorite vegetable.

“Harper,” he whispered.

My middle name.

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