Page 52 of Off Season

I walk toward the booth and Quincy looks up at me. “Where did Ripley go?”

“To perform brain surgery. Where do you think? The bathroom.”

I am absolutely convinced that the two of them are secretly fucking. It’s like a cheesy Hallmark movie. Each of them stares at the other when they aren’t looking. I bet there’s a good story there. They’ve known each other since they were little kids. She probably secretly lost her virginity to him.

My Hallmark reel is broken by Cheetah flicking his tongue suggestively at me. “Damn, Kam bam, you look good enough to drink up tonight.”

But he doesn’t touch me. Henevertouches me without invitation. As much as the two of us trade suggestive comments, he somehow manages to do it respectfully. It’salwaysdone in good fun. There’s something so different about Cruz Gonzales from every other man I’ve ever known.

I gently pat his hand like I’m expressing sympathy for him. “Are you jealous because my heart is pumping inside me and you’re not?”

His adorable dimples come out just as he lets out his sweet, distinguishable laugh. One that soothes me for some odd reason.

We trade a few more sexually laced comments, per always. He’s the only man who has ever been able to go toe-to-toe with me in that department. I think his witty yet dirty mind is almost as attractive to me as his sexy exterior and genuine interior.

God, he makes me laugh. No one in my life has ever made me laugh harder than Cruz Gonzales.

It turns out the girl in the booth is with Ezra. She’s a childhood friend of his and is allegedly in a relationship with another guy, but she and Ezra are all over each other. I’m just happy to see him with a woman. I think Bailey broke his heart. He’s wanted her since we moved here, but she’s friend zoned him. Now that she’s doing the deed with Daddy Tanner, Ezra doesn’t stand a chance. I doubt he ever did.

Ripley returns to the table and Layton wobbles in on his crutches looking like someone shot his puppy. He whines about missing Arizona terribly. He’s such a goner for her.

Some skank tries to hit on Layton, but Ripley stands up to her on Arizona’s behalf. After which, the skank makes some nasty comment about Ripley’s weight. I’m about to beat this bitch up when Quincy then takes it to a whole other level by physically threatening the woman and then having her booted from the bar by the owner before grabbing Ripley’s hand and disappearing toward the bathroom area.

Yep. They’re fucking. Not a doubt in my mind now.

Cheetah brings me back to the present by once again asking for another chance with me. Should I give it to him? In fairness, the sex was amazing before my waterbed popped. I don’t usually like to have sex with someone more than once because it leads to expectations, but I suppose we didn’t technically finish.

Wait. What happened to me being off men? What if he turnsout to be just like the rest? I feel like I’ll truly lose all faith in mankind if he ends up being a typical asshole.

I know he’s not. That’s the problem.

I exhale a long breath and cross my arms in challenge. Narrowing my eyes at him, I say, “I’ve got one for you, big mouth. Tell me two authentic things about me that have nothing to do with sex, my body, or my current softball team. If youactuallyknowanythingsubstantive about me, I’m yours for the night to do with as you please.”

His entire face lights up like it’s Christmas morning. Like he’s been waiting his whole life for this question.

He makes a big fucking show of stretching like he’s about to run a marathon. He then picks up his beer and makes another show of handing it to Ezra with nothing but pure Cheetah mischief in his eyes. “Hold my beer.”

He places his hands on the table and leans toward me, so his handsome face is right in mine. His dimples briefly come out before he begins his little speech. “Kamryn Sarah Hart, age twenty-eight, is the younger of identical twins by nine minutes. Incidentally, that’s also your number, but we’re not talking about the Anacondas. Your parents are Beverly and Chris. They still live in the same Southern Florida house that you grew up in. You have no other siblings. You were the Gatorade Player of the Year in the state of Florida during your senior year of high school. You had your choice of full athletic scholarships to any college in the country. You chose UCLA because they were willing to take Bailey, who, at the time, wasn’t considered as strong of a player as you. You like dark chocolate, not milk chocolate. It’s your comfort food. Milk chocolate makes you gassy. You love dogs but realize you can’t have one right now because of your life on the road. When you retire, which you plan to do after the twenty-eight Olympics, your first order of business will be to adopt a dog. You smell like peaches, and I know firsthand that you taste like them too, but I’m not allowed to talk about your body. You don’t like Doublemint Gum. You and Bailey were in a commercial for itwhen you were little kids, and they made you chew it for days until it started to physically make you sick. You refused to ever chew it again. You chew grape bubblegum on the field and blow giant bubbles that make my dick hard because I’ve never been more jealous of a piece of gum in my life. You hate it when—”

I sit there flabbergasted through his speech. I’ve never felt more seen by a man in my entire life. A woman either, for that matter.

Yes, we’ve had a bunch of conversations, but he actually listened to the small things and remembered them. Even the tiniest details. And the Gatorade Player of the Year thing? I never told him that. Or the Doublemint commercial thing. He thinks about me when we’re not together. Enough to google me.

The gum comment is my final tipping point. Before he can get out the next sentence, I practically crawl across the table and smash my lips to his.

As if we’re not in a crowded bar, he grabs my waist and pulls me to straddle his lap. I slide right down onto his hard dick and let out a moan into his mouth.

I forgot how good he tastes and how perfectly he kisses. Our tongues invade each other’s mouths as my hands move up and under his sweater, running my nails down his broad, bare chest. His hands squeeze my hips hard while we shamelessly grind onto each other.

Fuck, we’re in the middle of a normal bar. This might be acceptable behavior for a dark club but not a regular sports bar. I’m not sure I give a fuck, but I don’t want any blowback on him. I mumble into his mouth, “Get me out of here and fuck me senseless.”

He lets out a growl before standing with me still wrapped around him. We don’t break our kiss or bother to say goodbye to anyone as we leave the bar. I think I hear them all laughing, but I don’t give a shit. Laugh away, suckers. I’m about to get it good.

As soon as we’re outside, he pushes my body against the brickwall of the building and kisses down my neck. “You have no idea how badly I want you. I can’t stop thinking about you.”

I can’t deny that I’ve wanted him too. “Let’s go back to my place.”

He breathlessly lifts his head, so our eyes meet. “There is zero chance of me attempting this again on your waterbed.”

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