Page 16 of Scoring Position

Sauntering toward the door, she exits the room, leaving me to wonder what the fuck just happened—and how I can get her to do it again.

ELEVEN

LARK

“So,you’re telling me that people thought jerking off would kill them in the 1800s?”

“Yep,” I say with a giggle. “Doctors warned men that if they masturbated, they’d become intellectually stunted and eventually experience memory loss. For women, it was even worse. They were told that if they dared to touch themselves, they’d fall ill with a dry cough and pale complexion that would eventually turn into weakness and death.”

After the away trip last week, we returned to Daytona, where Ace had half a day off before playing twice at Fury Field. We were able to get some studying in before the quiz, which he passed with a C, then read ahead a little bit for the Sexual Behaviors module that officially started yesterday. We still ended up a little behind because we spent all of yesterday traveling to Los Angeles, so we’re catching up now at the hotel. It’s a smaller room than last time, and there’s no table to sit at, so we’re huddled together on the queen-sized bed. It’s not exactly ideal, but we’re making it work.

After our flirty game of Twister the other night, I’m doing my best to stay on task, but it’s been hard. I acted way out ofcharacter before I left his room, yet for some reason, I haven’t felt weird about it. I probably should, since I’m his tutor and we’re ten years apart, but he’s fun to hang out with, and he makes me feel like I can just be me. Even though we’ve only known each other for just over a week, I feel so comfortable around him—like I don’t have to hide. I can be silly and flirty, and he gives it right back.

His brows pull in, confusion written all over his face. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. I’m dumber if I don’t jack off at least once a day. I can’t focus if I’m backed up.”

I shrug, looking down at my notes as I try to erase the mental image of Ace fucking his hand from my mind. I wonder if he lies on the bed or stands in front of a mirror. Does he do it in the shower? Does he moan, or is he silent when he orgasms? Does he stroke with his fist, or does he fuck into it with his hips?

Holy shit, Lark. You truly have no shame. Focus.

I clear my throat. “There are a lot of benefits to masturbation, both physical and psychological. The reason why it was looked at in that way back then was because nobody was comfortable talking about it. Even conversing about sex between a married couple was off-limits. Unless it was for procreation, the act of intercourse was frowned upon. People rarely did it for pleasure alone, and if they did, they never discussed it.

“That’s why researchers in the nineteen-eighties developed something called the Sexual Opinion Survey, orSOS.They wanted to be able to study people’s reactions to certain thoughts and behaviors regarding sex, and how comfortable they are with certain topics. You took one as your first assignment for this course. Professor Stockton always has her students do them at the beginning, then again toward the end to see if anything has changed. It’s really more for yourself since nobody sees them but you, but it’s interesting to see how people’s attitudesand comfort levels shift when they’ve been exposed to more information.”

“Did yours change a lot?” he asks. “I mean, after you took the course?”

I shake my head. “Well, I sort of knew I was comfortable talking about sexual behaviors before I signed up for the class because I had already started on my path to becoming a sex therapist. At least, thatwasmy path—until I found out I wouldn’t be getting my tuition covered anymore.”

He frowns, tilting his head to the side. “So, you completely dropped out?” he asks.

I shrug, exhaling a defeated breath. “If I can come up with the full amount for the year, plus books and supplies, I can at least get a few more classes under my belt. It all happened so fast. I didn’t really have a backup plan until you came along. One minute, I was working at the college with free tuition, and the next, I was in my ex-mother-in-law’s office being fired.” His eyebrows pull together, and he scratches his cheek, clearly confused, so I continue. “She wants me to go back to using my maiden name because she doesn’t like the thought of me tarnishing her family’s prim-and-proper reputation by helping people work through their issues with sex.”

He smirks knowingly. “And you don’t want to give her the satisfaction.”

“Exactly.” I pop a shoulder. “Icould.I’m sure it would make my life a lot easier, but she always bullies people. She did it to me throughout my whole relationship with her son. We never made any decisions together, even when they affected us both. If he needed something, she basically pushed me out of the way to take care of it. I always knew she was overstepping and inserting herself into our marriage, but I thought it was just a bad habit. I didn’t realize she was sabotaging the entire thing until thedamage was already done. I lost so much respect for them both that I couldn’t come back from it.”

My eyes go wide. I just word-vomited all my baggage on this poor guy. He probably thinks I’m a fucking basket case. Who does that?

“That was way too much,” I rush out. “I’m sorry, Ace. I didn’t mean to?—”

“Fuck her,” he says. “Fuck them both. You deserve better than that, Lark. I’m sorry they treated you like you didn’t have anything to offer. Just so you know”—he looks up, his gorgeous blue eyes burning into mine—“I think you’re amazing. And I admire the way you’re standing your ground.”

I bring my gaze to my hands, which are twisted together in my lap. “Thanks,” I reply. “I just hope all this fighting isn’t for nothing. Even if I do make enough to get myself through school, then what? Opening my own practice would be a risk in this economy. Not to mention, specializing in sex therapy instead of just general therapy or marriage counseling may be a bad choice. Society still places such a stigma on asking for help when it comes to issues with sex, whether they’re personal or with a partner. Will I even be able to build a clientele?” I shake my head. “I want to help people, but these thoughts get me every now and then, making me second-guess everything I’m working so hard for.”

His hand extends between us, curling a finger under my chin and lifting it so I’m looking at him. “You’re going to make a difference, Lark Dawson. Don’t doubt yourself.” The way he says it is soft, but also like he’s fully confident in his words. So much so that it makes me believe them too. In this moment, I realize that there’s more to Ace Mathers than just some young, professional athlete who likes to flirt and joke around. Sure, he does those things. They’re what make him so much fun to spend time with. But there’s also a man underneath all of that who’ssupportive and caring…and even though he’s famous and has tons of money, he doesn’t judge.

I swallow thickly, not knowing whether I want him to pull his hand away or lean in and kiss me, but I’m definitely confused as our gazes only become more intense. I can’t tear my eyes away. Looking at him makes me feel…warm. Like I’m being wrapped in a fluffy blanket and held tight.

We sit there for what feels like minutes, his hand finally dropping down to grab mine and pull it free from where it’s being gripped by the other. He laces our fingers together, indecision slipping over his expression for just a moment before he exhales and speaks again.

“My mom had me when she was sixteen years old,” he begins as I listen intently. I can tell that he’s uncomfortable with whatever he’s about to say, so I squeeze his hand gently in a silent show of support. “She dropped out of school to take care of me but got sick of motherhood really quick. She’d go out with her friends, leaving me with my grandmother and not coming back for days. When she did, she was almost always hungover. She’d sleep it off, doing the bare minimum as a mom, just to take off again the next night. Eventually, she said she didn’t want me anymore and just…left.”

I sigh, bringing my other hand to where ours are intertwined and rubbing his knuckles with my fingertips.

“As I got older, my grandma made sure I knew the consequences of having sex. She would warn me that having a kid would ruin my life, and I’d end up not being able to play baseball. The thought scared me so much that, before I knew it, I was an eighteen-year-old virgin.”

I shake my head slowly. “Ace, a lot of people wait until they’re adults to have sex. Between the way society views it as taboo—and how we’ve placed more importance on preaching purity than actually teaching people how to be safe—it’s hard to makean uninfluenced decision. It’s okay to wait in the same way that it’s okay to explore.”

He looks down at where my thumb is ghosting over the back of his hand. “It didn’t really bother me much through school because I was constantly playing travel ball. My only focus was standing out to scouts as a top prospect, which I did. But right after the MLB Draft, it all changed.”

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