Page 7 of Rounding Third

“Nice try. I can see it in your eyes. I saw you…” I glance down at my watch before meeting his gaze again. “I saw you two and a half hours ago and you should still be at work. Clearly, something happened.”

Smithy wraps his arms around my waist and tugs me onto his lap. He twists his body so his back is resting against the arm rest and his long legs are stretched out on the cushions. He scoots down until his head is on the arm rest and takes me with him. I'm pinned between his hard body and the back of the couch, but I'm not complaining.

“Smithy,” I groan his name, regretting it almost immediately. It sounds way too intimate. “I’m supposed to be working and you know it.”

“I know, but I need you for a few minutes, then I’ll leave.”

“Promise?” I arch a brow, not believing a word he says.

“Yes.”

“Fine.” I let out a dramatic sigh and lay my head on his chest.

Every once in a while, Smithy gets super touchy feely. I love those times. For just a little bit I can pretend we’re a real couple and not just friends. I cherish those moments and think about them on the nights I wish I had a man in my life.

“I’ll just go.” He sighs and tries to slip out from underneath me, but I stop him as my brows tug together. This isn't like him.

“No! I don’t want you to leave.” I wrap my arms around his waist and hold on as tightly as I can. I don’t want him to be upset with me.

“Are you sure about that? You seem annoyed I'm here.”

I peek up at him, finding his eyes shut and a deep V formed between his brows. There’s no playful grin tugging on his lips or glimmer of mischief in his eyes. This is the raw and vulnerable version of Travis Smith. The one I fell in love with years ago.

His brown hair is tousled and there’s a thick layer of scruff on his jaw. I want to run my fingers over it and feel the roughness against my smooth skin.

“I'm stressed out about this article, but that doesn’t mean I'm annoyed to have you here.”

“What if you work while you sit with me? I promise I won't talk to you, I just want to be here.”

“We can do that, but I have to actually sit. I can't lay with you.”

“Can you give me five minutes like this?”

“Five minutes. I’m setting a timer.” I climb over Smithy and grab my phone off the table where I left it. I know if I lay on this couch with him and don’t set a timer, I'm going to fall asleep and never get this article written.

Once I have it set, I try to figure out how to get back into the same position we were in already. Somehow, he takes up the entire couch even though I was just lying next to him.

Smithy rolls on his side with his back against the couch and stretches out his arms to reach for me.

“C’mon, Sweets.”

I lay down with my back against his chest and he tightens his arms around me. His nose gets buried in my hair and every time he exhales, his breath fans across my skin and tickles me.

I’d never tell him this, but I set my alarm for thirty minutes. He’s always been needy, but never like this. His head isn't in the right space and I'm sure that’s why he’s here and not at work.

“Where’s your head at, Travis?” I whisper as I grip his forearm and run my fingers softly back and forth along his skin.

“I can't stop thinking about her,” he says softly.

“Who?”

“My dream girl.”

I want to roll my eyes and scoff, but it wouldn’t matter. He’s been in love with this mystery woman for as long as I can remember. He won't tell me who she is or anything about her. At least not anything that could narrow down who she is or help me figure out her identity.

“I think you need to give up on her and move on.”

“That’s like telling me to stop breathing and find a new source of oxygen. It’s never going to happen, Sweets.”

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