Taylor nodded and padded into the hallway.
“I guess winning a Gold Glove isn’t as important as a viral reel these days,” I said, huffing out a laugh as I leaned against the dresser.
“Maybe not for her demographic,” Rachel said, closing the door with a gentle push. “But everyone in baseball remembers. Don’t be so modest, Coach.”
Before I could reply, she came over to the bed and eased onto the mattress. “So, is this your actual childhood bed?”
“From my teenage years on, yes. They had to buy me a full-size after I outgrew the twin.”
“I see,” she said, her mouth curling into a smirk as she lay back, gliding her hands over the comforter. “How many girls have you had in this room?”
“A few,” I admitted with a shrug. “I can’t give you a number.”
“That many?” she said, pressing a dramatic hand to her chest.
“No, just none that I could remember enough to count,” I said, taking slow steps toward the bed.
She counted. More than I could begin to tell her, even if the words hadn’t been lodged in the back of my throat.
“This is kind of hot,” she whispered, a breathy rasp to her voice as I settled between her legs.
“What is? Being on my bed in broad daylight in a house full of people?” I pressed into her, my cock already hard enough not to care who was here and what time it was.
“Being in the room you grew up in, sleeping in your old bed. I didn’t date any athletes, but this is like the ultimate high school fantasy. Hot jock, small bed.” She raised her brow. “But—” she tapped her finger on her chin “—you went to high school a decade before me, so it wouldn’t have worked in real time.”
She giggled when I pinched the inside of her thigh. In a T-shirt and cutoffs, or anything she wore, Rachel was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen.
I never thought about our almost ten-year age difference. From the moment I met Rachel, I’d always found her to be wiser than I ever was, at any age.
“I bet a lot of athletes wanted to date you in school, even if you wouldn’t give them the time of day.”
“I went to an all-girls school and wore an ugly plaid skirt every day. Maybe a few wanted to date me. I did have good legs back then.”
“Do you still have the skirt somewhere?” I joked, even though my cock jerked at the thought of her in a schoolgirl uniform, a skirt short enough to show off those curvy thighs, the shadow of a lace bra behind a white button-down shirt. “I may have an old high school jersey in the closet that I can bring home with me. Not that it would fit anymore.”
“Holy shit, are you serious? Could you find it tonight?”
I cracked up when her jaw went slack as she sat up on her elbows.
“Look who’s on board with fucking under my parents’ roof now.” I traced her jaw with the tip of my finger. “My dirty girl has a jersey fetish.”
A mix of shock and heat swam in her chocolate eyes.
“Please don’t call me your dirty girl when I have to go back downstairs and talk to your adorable mother.”
I burst out laughing and dropped my head to her shoulder, peppering kisses along her collarbone and up her neck until I swirled my tongue around the sweet spot behind her ear.
She covered her mouth after she let go of a whimper, meeting my gaze with wide eyes.
“My sweet little live wire,” I teased, kissing the tip of her nose. “I’m so glad you’re here.” I cinched my arms around her, pulling her to me as tightly as I could, and it still wasn’t close enough.
“Me too, Coach.” She kissed my cheek, wrapping her legs around my waist as she looped her arms around my neck. My body melted against hers, and I wished it could always be just like this.
Maybe this was what it was like to find your other half. All the chaos in my head settled when I was with Rachel. She replaced it with a deep peace and excitement for a future I’d never thought to plan for.
I wanted more than just a weekend or every other week between road trips. Maybe I didn’t know how to say it yet, but I wanted to end all my days with Rachel in my bed.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
