Page 116 of The Problem with Players

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AVERY

The following morning, I showered on my own and came out of my bedroom to find Nathan cooking breakfast for me. I could get used to the current living arrangement.

When he turned to see me, he smiled. “Morning, sunshine.”

“Morning.” I moved over and gave him a small kiss. “Food smells good.”

He buried his face against my neck, covering me in kisses. “You smell good.”

We moved to the living room and did one of our favorite things—watched ESPN with our plates in our hands. After we finished, Nathan turned to me. His eyes were slightly somber, and I could tell something was up.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“I want to give you something, but I’m not sure if you’ll think I’m an asshole.”

I narrowed my eyes. “That lead-in makes me nervous.”

He slipped a hand into his back pocket and pulled out a business card. “It’s the name of the wellness clinic I went to in Chicago when I was going through a hard time after losingMickey and my injury. My therapist was amazing and helped me get back on my feet. Yet they have a lot of different, extremely talented individuals. Some of the best in the industry. I still go bimonthly. Just wanted to offer that up to you if you ever want to speak to someone other than me.”

I smiled shyly as I took the card from him. “Thank you, but I don’t think I can afford the same level of treatment that an MLB all-star receives.”

“Don’t worry about the cost. I’ll cover it.”

I shook my head. “No, Nathan, I can’t let you?—”

“I’ll cover it,” he assured. “You don’t worry about that. I just want you to feel the best you can. That’s all that matters to me.”

“Oh no…” I murmured, moving closer to him. “You must really like me a lot if you want me to be mentally stable, huh?” I joked.

The seriousness in his eyes remained. “I like you so damn much that it scares me, Avery Kingsley. I’m around you all day, and then I still dream about you, too.”

Butterflies.

Butterflies and Nathan Pierce.

“Thank you,” I breathed out, glancing down at the card in my hand, because looking into his eyes was becoming too intense. “I don’t know if I’m ready yet, but I’ll keep this in mind. Is that okay?”

“More than,” he agreed. “When you’re ready, just say the word, and I’ll get everything in order,” he said, kissing my forehead.

I didn’t know it was possible for forehead kisses to feel like the ultimate kind of affection until that very moment in time.

Each day that passed,I found myself falling more and more for Nathan. On my dark days, he made me smile, and on mybright days, he made me laugh. It was becoming harder and harder to ignore the feelings developing in my chest for that man.

I sat in my bed, flipping through social media late one Saturday night. I knew Nathan was out with his brothers in Chicago to celebrate Evan’s and Easton’s birthdays, but I still wished he was home. Never in my life did I think I’d get to the point of missing having him around on the regular.

The house seemed lonelier without his voice bouncing off the walls.

It was around two in the morning when I heard him stumble inside. He must’ve run into the coffee table or something because I heard him holler, “Fuck!” after a big thump sound.

I snickered at the idea of him being wasted out of his mind. That was what he got for hanging out with his younger brothers. He couldn’t keep up with those guys.

“Ouch!” he muttered once more as he crashed into something else.

A few moments later, a text message popped up on my screen.

Nathan

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