Page 86 of Wild Pitch
Me
Actually
Only if you want to
I don’t want you to feel like I coerced you into dropping the last names just because you were sick
He sends the emoji with flat lips and a raised eyebrow.
Annoying Cowboy
Please darlin’, I agreed of my own free will
I mean, Hope
It’ll take some used to, is all
Me
Sure, I’ll still call you Cowboy sometimes
Biting my lip, I tackle the other topic too now that the easiest one has been cleared.
Me
And um, also
I wanted to apologize for my behavior yesterday
Annoying Cowboy
For making me soup?!
Me
No, I mean for um…
I hugged you without your consent and I AM SO SORRY!!!! That should never have happened. I literally don’t know what came over me. I totally understand if you don’t want to work with me ever again, I’ll figure out a way to get you assigned to Otto or Steve every time. I’M REALLY SORRY and ohmygosh I’M SORRY FOR TREATING YOU DIFFERENTLY I’m sure you get so much crap from people for your origins and I just acted impulsively based on my own emotions without considering for a second how that might make you feel. I made you uncomfortable DIDN’T I?? Cade I’m sorry, you don’t need to forgive me just know that I really regret it
I hit send on what ends up being the single chunkiest paragraph I’ve ever written in my life. I press my curled fingers against my mouth, waiting for a response.
The wordreadappears under my text, and his three dots aren’t showing up.
I run my eyes through the text, cringing at the horrible punctuation and at how unhinged I sound, and try to put myself in his shoes. He must be calling up his lawyer to get a restraining order against me.
But then something terrible happens.
He calls me on FaceTime.
Yelping, I sit up so fast that the whole room spins. I check my reflection in the screen and the good news is that I’m not so red anymore, only my nose is. My hair’s a mess because I let it loose, and I quickly comb my fingers through it before accepting the call.
Oh my?—
A tiny squeak lodges in my throat at the sight that greets me. The cowboy is in bed, face down, his smushed cheek making his lips jut out. His hair’s a rat’s nest worse than mine and the scruff is scruffing way harder today. But the worst part is that I can see part of his shoulder and back and know he’s shirtless again.
And that transports me to seeing him on his bed in that exact same state, and how that awakened every hormone that has been dormant in my body for the past two years.
That has to be why I acted like a fool in his kitchen.
