Page 22 of The Road to Home Base
“Alex,” he said through a laugh. “I mean it. Don’t inflate my head. I won’t be able to sleep tonight because all I’ll think about are your compliments.”
I crossed my arms on the counter and leaned into them. “Good. Because I’ve been losing sleep thinking about you, too.” I looked down after saying that.
Too much. Too fast. Take a breath and take it slow.
I should have controlled my outburst. Over-complimenting did a disservice to both him and me. I watched as he piled in the rest of his food, chugged an entire bottle of water, then grabbed another from the fridge. He seemed to have shaken off whatever I said, that or he was the king at compartmentalizing.
He swung around the island and gently pulled at my arm. “Come on, let’s play some games.”
More confident in our situation, I sat on the cushion next to the corner of his sectional as he procured the game controllers. He hesitated when he turned back around and saw me sitting so close to where he would be. He circled around the ottoman and crashed down into the corner seat. Our sides touched. His feet went up on the ottoman, but I had to lean forward in order to concentrate.
I noticed he only selected one player. “Okay. Here’s the deal, Toad. You need to learn how to play if I’m going to have some competition. This game has changed since whenever you last played it.”
“Oh-ho. All right. What do I do?”
“You need to learn todrift.”
He cued up the game and the countdown started. As three, two, one flashed on the screen, Rome sat up and pulled his feet from the ottoman. I jumped in place as I felt his hand go around my body, his arm on my back. The fingers from both his hands went over mine as he held my controller and my hands. I looked down, startled for a moment. His hands weremassive. Baseball mitts, really.
“Like this,” he said softly into my ear. His fingers moved mine and Toad blasted forward on the track.
I swallowed hard and threw the entirety of my concentration into watching that little cartoon character zip around the racecourse. Every neuron in my body became hyperaware that Rome sat close enough for me to smell him, to feel the thickmusculature of his body in the thin clothing he wore. Those long fingers of his guiding mine. I could only imagine what they would feel like tracing baseball diamonds on my body.
“Getting the hang of it?”
Getting the hang ofsomething,I thought. “Oh, for sure. Totally.”
He snickered, the breath leaving his nose and tickling my ear. I felt the hair on the nape of my neck go up.
“I think you might be fibbing there, sir.”
I hit the pause button and gently extracted my hands from under his and spun to look at him.
Lookupat him, sitting this close.
“Why don’t you show me how it’s done? How about I watch youdriftyour way to victory and you can give me pointers?”
He nodded with a grin. Oh, he liked that idea. “All right, all right. You think I have sweet baseball skills? Just wait until you see me race Rainbow Road.”
Rome sat back on the couch, his legs going up along the other side of the sectional. I saw an opportunity and took it. I slinked closer to him, nestled myself right up against that six-foot-six frame of his and squeezed to make room along the couch cushion for all of our legs. He cleared his throat. Licked his lips.
I realized that might have been too much for him.
Low body count. Too much physical touch.
I watched him pull a blanket down from the back of the couch and cover our lower halves. I knew damn well that the A/C was at a perfect level and that there was only one reason he would want to conceal below the waist like that.
You’re a thirty-year-old who can make a professional athlete pop an awkward boner without kissing, I told myself.Take the win, Alex.
“This okay?” I asked.
“Close, but not quite.” He got the Rainbow Road level ready,then wrapped an arm around me so that I sank into him. His arm was long enough to encapsulate me and reach for the controller nestled on our laps. “Much better.”
I dropped my head back into his shoulder. I would need the blanket too if I let my thoughts wander too far. “Okay. Show me how it’s done.”
?
I awakened to the sound of electric, upbeat music, presumably from the video game load screen. Neon green, cherry red, and electric yellow lights washed out the room in a strobing rhythm as if I had been sitting at a traffic stop. One of my eyes parted open, the other buried against the steady rise and fall of a hard chest. I smelled masculine soap, something that vaguely reminded me of a locker room at the local gym. My arm lay stretched out across the chest on which I laid, the other arm tucked against mine and the other body. The flashing lights from the television screen reflected off of something shiny—a crucifix and a small, oval medallion, each on their own golden chain. I didn’t recognize the symbol in the oval. A saint?
