Page 46 of Honey Pot

His shoulders tensed as his eyes dropped to my bed. The shirt I had stolen from his room was untucked from beneath my pillow. I waited for him to tease me. To say something about it, but it never came. He just dug in the bag for another fry as he waited.

“You ready?” He asked as he turned around. I sat on my chair and started to pull on my sneakers, tucking my face down to hide the pink color my cheeks had turned with embarrassment.

He walked over, dropped to one knee, and patted my calf softly to encourage me to raise my foot.

“Always on your knees for me,” I cooed quietly. Cael smirked as he tied each shoe, careful to double-knot them before helping me stand.

His sweet, citrusy cologne filled my nose as he wrapped his hand around my back and pulled me close to his body. Goosebumps covered my arms, locked in by his as I worked to control my beating heart, resisting the feral urge to run my thumb over his pouty bottom lip and kiss him until he begged for air. Those endless blue eyes ate away at my resolve to keep him at arm's length and I could feel the barriers crumbling as that boyish, lopsided smile formed to the left of his face.

“You smell pretty,” Cael whispered, pulling away but lingering on my wrist and rolling the bracelet there between his fingers before letting go.

I stood there for a moment longer as he disappeared down the hall toward the front door, unable to catch the breath that he had stolen from my lungs without remorse. I was treading water, trying desperately to keep my head above the surface, grasping onto the memories of that smile like a life preserver.

I had missed Cael Cody more than I could have ever imagined. I’d just barely learned how to swim on my own, and now I was paying the price for underestimating his intoxicating ability to pull me back beneath the surface.

“Move it, slow poke,” he whistled from the front door.

I followed him around the house to a path that led down the back. It was well worn, all the grass eroded away from them using it to get to the stadium. When it broke out from the tree line to the highway, Cael skirted around and put himself on the outside without breaking his train of thought as he rambled on about the muggy weather.

As we entered the stadium, he stopped to talk to a group of people who were painting a new mural on the west side.

“Hey, Tess! It looks amazing.” He looked up at it and nodded. “Arlo’s nose is bigger, though.” He pointed, and the girl covered in paint laughed. “I’ll give you ten dollars to paint a mustache on Dean.” He pointed to the man a little further down, who had just shaken his head.

I felt like I was watching a movie as he interacted with everyone around the stadium. Everyone he saw, he treated like family. He knew something about each of their lives that caught me off guard, and I couldn’t help but lean into him as he led us down to the field. It was weird to see him at ease, there was no tension in his shoulders, no tightness to his jaw. Just that light-as-a-feather nature that he carried around.

Cael stopped, poking his head into what looked like a gym but was empty except for Ella, who was working with a player I didn’t recognize.

“Hey Peach,” he called to her, and she looked up with a smile on her face. “Jensen has a meeting with his counselor. Would you mind substituting for dinner tonight?”

She nodded and went back to work.

“You call her Peach?” I said as he closed the door.

He looked back at me for a moment, confusion on his face. “You jealous?”

“No,” I said, but I looked back over my shoulder through the glass at her, talking softly to the player she was working with, and wondered what I was missing between her and Cael. Or maybe it was just a stupid nickname, and I was reading too much into it.

“Down here.” He opened a door that led to the field where players tossed balls back and forth. “Stadium has a retractable roof so that we can keep in shape during the off-season.”

The Shore family had spared no expense to give the team a top of the line stadium and it showed.

“You practice year-round?” I asked him.

“It’s more slack in the fall; training usually picks up again in the early spring, but the guys like to keep their bodies moving.”

Cael was a natural at the talking part. He pointed out a few of the stadium highlights and made his way to a section in the back concealed by a mesh tunnel and led me to the rear.

Van Mitchell and Dean Tucker could be heard between loud cracks of wood and the sound of whooshing balls. A row of three batting cages lined the back of the stadium, all empty except for the one that housed the two men.

“Boys.” Cael hooked his fingers into the chain fence.

“What’s up, Cody?”

Van poked the end of his bat near the fence while Dean just stared at me like he wanted to say something. Neither of them bothered with shirts, showing rippling muscles that spanned over their arms and chests, soft stomachs, and tan skin. The bodies of baseball players work hard and play harder. I licked my bottom lip as I came to a stop next to Cael.

“Came down to show,” he stopped short of calling me Clementine, “Ms. Matthews, what we really do…”

“You can’t swing, Cael.” Dean was the first to say it. “Ella’s orders. If we let you in, she’ll go full mom on us.”

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