Page 33 of Second Swing
“I don’t think stepping back would be a good idea. Not with what you’ve told me about Paloma. I think what’s most important is you being consistent and present. Don’t push her towardforeverbut don’t leave her hanging and wondering,” she reassures me, and I take a moment to think about her thought process. “Just be careful.”
“I don’t know how to be around her withoutwantingher. I don’t know what I would do if she—”
“Don’t worry about what could happen if she doesn’t or can’t move forward. We aren’t going to think about it being an outcome. Foreveristhe option, right? So focus on what you can do by creating what it could look like.” My cousin’s advice sits like a weight on my chest. How exactly am I supposed to not think about the possibility of her running away again?
“I see the faraway look you have. Try not to stress. Everything is goingto work out, Clinton.”
“I want to believe you.” I take another swing, simply practicing my form before I turn toward my cousin and say, “Let’s go get something to eat.”
18
Chuck: Never fall in love with someone who can’t tell the green from the rough.
Lou: You wouldn't be able to see the difference without your bifocals. What’s that say about you?
Chuck: We aren’t talking about me.
“What are you doing tonight?” We‘ve done nothing but tease and flirt with each other since I started. She keeps me on my toes. There’s absolutely nothing Paloma could do that would be anything less than perfect, which is what made me realize I needed to know more about her.
She smirks at me, nudging me with her arm as we walk to her parked car. She picks up her speed, putting distance between us with her pace. “You gonna ask me on a date, Mr. Pro Golfer?”
“Yeah.” I chuckle, watching her steps falter, and I consider if I just crossed a line. “Yeah, I am.”
“You sure you want to do that?” she asks, her voice strained.
“Why wouldn’t I?” She turns slightly toward me, and when I catch up to her I finish my thought. “You’re an amazing woman, Paloma. We laugh and joke with one another. You are everything that feels likesunshine. Why wouldn’t I ask you on a date? I’d be an idiot not to,” I confess.
“I-um. I don’t date, Clinton,” she says in a way like she believes it as much as I do. How am I supposed to believe it when her fingertips brush mine anytime we’re in the same room?
I rub her fingers between mine. “Paloma, whether we date and become anything is entirely up to you.”
We stand here until she speaks, “Okay. Go ahead and ask me.”
Smiling, I try again. “Paloma, would you go on a date with me to—” Before I can finish she’s already shaking her head no.
“Nah ah.” She hums. “I just told you I don’t date. You are so hardheaded.”
I choke on a laugh. This is exactly what I mean.Thisis why we work, why wecouldwork. “Oh, I’m the hardheaded one.”
“If you’re going to ask a woman out who just said she doesn’t date, the least you could do is ask the proper way.” She tilts her head down to the side, aiming her fire at me, and it only makes me want her more.
“And how would you have me ask you?” I watch the blush creep up her neck.Fuck.She’s enjoying this little game of ours.
Me too, Dove.Me too.
“When people are begging, they’re normally”—she stops herself, cataloguing our surroundings, as if worried someone might see us—“on their knees.”
My dick presses against my pants, and I smirk. With my sole focus on her, I wrap my hands around the back of her thighs as I lower myself in front of her, never taking my eyes off hers. “Like this, Dove?”
From this angle I can see how quickly her breaths are coming. Knowing me on my knees in front of her gets this kind of reaction…well, I may have to find a reason to do it more often. I squeeze her thighs, running my thumb up and down the softness of her leg.
“Yes.” Paloma’s voice is husky and just above a whisper. The next time I’m down on my knees I want my face deep in between her full thighs. “Try asking again.”
“Paloma, I’d love to take you to Midnight Miso tonight. I’ll pick you up at seven.” I stand to my full height, rubbing my hand up the back of her arm, not wanting to stop touching her yet.
Her chest rises and falls. “That wasn’t a question,” she says, her voice breathy, and I learn it’s my new favorite sound.
“Get in the car, Paloma. I’ll see you tonight.” She nods her head before getting into her car, and I walk to mine with my cock straining beneath the zipper.Worth it.
