“Me too. Want to know a secret?” she says and I nod. “I was already on my way to Florida when I got the text from Zach. I wanted to get to know him.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Me too,” she says. “I’m still hoping Zach comes around, but I’m losing hope.”
“I could talk to him,” I say, and I want to smack myself. Who the fuck am I to offer that to her, and I know how stubborn he can be? If he’s going to come around, it’s going to be on his own terms.
“I appreciate it, but I think this is something I need to figure out on my own.” She tosses another bat in the box before speaking again. “What about you, do you have a lot of family?”
“Too many family members if you ask me.”
She laughs. “Like Penny?”
“Penny is nothing compared to my brothers.” She tilts her head like she wants to know more. “Being the oldest of four is definitely something. We all like to pick on each other, still do, even though we’re grown ass adults.”
“Do you have any nieces or nephews… or kids of your own?” she asks. I wonder if she’s gauging my relationship status and I know I shouldn’t like that, but I give her the information she needs.
“No, to my mother’s chagrin, all of her sons are hopelessly single and childless.”
She hums and there’s a question I’ve been wanting to ask.
“What about your mom? Any other siblings?”
“No, my mom passed a few years ago, and thankfully she didn’t have any other children.” She leaves it at that, and continues working on the bats. It’s nearly one in the morning when we get halfway through the box and I decide to call it a night.
Jessa looks absolutely exhausted, and the idea of her driving the forty-five minutes home to Clearwater eats away at me.
“I live right down the street and have a guest room if you’d like to crash there.”
“I couldn’t impose,” she says, and I shake my head.
“You just saved my ass, and the company’s. You can have whatever you want, plus I don’t like the idea of you driving so far so late.”
Her brown eyes explore mine before responding. “Okay.”
“Okay.”
Her eyes are wide when we get to my house, and I try not to feel proud that I’ve impressed her. She keeps her opinions to herself as I take her to the guest room. “Do you want a shirt or something to wear?” I ask her and she nods. Should I give her one of my old Rays shirts with my name on it… no… and I certainly shouldn’t enjoy the thought of her wearing my name. She thanks me, and I leave her alone for the night. Thankfully I’m exhausted enough to not dwell on it as I pass out, knowing that tomorrow is going to be long as fuck.
* * *
When I wake up, it feels like any ordinary day as I get ready, I wear casual clothes for the game later and head downstairs to get a coffee. I’m greeted by Jessa sitting at the bar top, her legs crossed as she sips her coffee. She’s still in my fucking shirt.
“Oh, morning,” she says blushing. “I’ll go get ready.”
I indulge and look at her legs one more time. I feel like a pervert for wondering what she has on under the shirt, and I know wholeheartedly I shouldn’t be looking at her legs and enjoying what I’m seeing. “I’ll take you to your car and you can go home and get ready.”
She arches a brow at me, taking a sip of her coffee, and I wonder if I’ve been caught looking at her inappropriately. This is all so not okay. I should have just driven her to Clearwater, but no, I decided to make things even more inappropriate by having her sleep here, in my clothes. She puts the coffee down and glances at me in a soft way, like she’s taking my appearance in. I shouldn’t like it as much as I do.
“But the bats?” she questions, and I can’t help the tug in my chest. Why does she have to be so caring and perfect? She’s beautiful. I’ve thought so since the moment I met her, but the more I learn, the more I like, and the more guilt starts to consume me.
“The rest of the office can put in some work. Make sure you dress casually, you’re spending half the day at the game with me.”
“What?” she asks.
“You made this happen, you’re coming to the game with me.”
She smiles and hops off the stool, the shirt bunching at the top of her thighs, and I have to hold back a groan. I don’t watch her ass or my name on her back as she walks down the hall to the guest bedroom. Why the fuck did I invite her? I knew it was crossing the line, and having her bare feet pad across my kitchen floor feels too domestic, in a way I didn’t think I’d ever like. I’m not sure what these feelings are festering inside of me, but I shut them down immediately.
