Page 30 of Imperfect Player

Everly: Glad you like it.

Me: Having fun?

Everly: Loads.

Another picture comes through. This time it’s a shot of an empty container of ice cream and what I assume is a serial killer on the screen.

Me: I should be there to protect you.

Everly: Aren’t you sweet.

Me: No.

Everly: I don’t think you give yourself enough credit.

Me: You give me too much.

Everly: What are you doing?

Me: You don’t want to know.

Everly: Who is she? ??

You. She’s you. It’s been you every night since we met. Sparkling blue eyes. Beautiful smile. Tits that I can still vividly recall what they feel like pressed against me.

Me: If that’s what I were doing, I wouldn’t be texting you. Unless…

Everly: Ugh. No.

Me: Can’t blame a guy for trying.

Considering we are just friends, she actually could. Fear rises in me that my stupid joke may have just caused me to fuck up something that actually matters to me.

I’m not used to things outside of baseball mattering. Certainly not people mattering. Everly’s different though. I just wish I knew what the fuck I was doing. I wish I wasn’t so fucked up that maybe, just maybe . . .

I shake my head before I even finish the thought.

What in the hell is it with this woman and her ability to get me to want things, need things, that I’ve never wanted or needed before. Namely, her.

Me: Thanks for the pics. Enjoy your night.

Everly: You too.

Chapter 8

Everly

There’s a hum in the office.

This time I don’t even have to glance up to know who it is.

Glancing up from my desk, I see Ethan. He’s leaning his hip against Jessa’s desk and smiling at her. Flirting with her?

My heart begins to race. A jealousy that I don’t want to experience rises inside me. As does my body from my chair as my feet begin to move to the lobby without my permission. It’s as though I’m on autopilot.

“Hey there,” I say, stepping up to Jessa’s desk.

Ethan turns to me, a broad smile on his face.

---