“Just hooking up.”
“Just hooking up,” I echo.
“Okay,” she says as she walks around me to the door of the shed.
“Allie,” I call after her, and she looks back, her eyes doing that questioning thing they do. “It has to be exclusive, though. For as long as we’re doing this. Even if it’s only physical. That’s my only condition.”
She cocks her head to the side, thinking it over. “No sex with other people. I can live with that.”
“Noanythingwith other people. No dating until we decide this—whatever it is—is done.” My heart prickles at the thought, but I want to be specific about what I’m willing to do. She doesn’t want to be my girlfriend. I can deal with that. For now. But there’s no way I can watch her go out with other men.
“Fine.”
“And I’m walking you to your car. It’s late and it got dark.”
She goes to argue, but I hold a finger up to her mouth. “Or do I have to remind you how I can control you with just one word?”
She snaps her mouth shut, a faint blush creeping up her cheek. Was that really all I had to do to get her to shut up? A few orgasms? If so, I’ll gladly repeat what we just did every day.
Allie doesn’t say anything, but she also doesn’t push me away while I trail behind her as she walks to her car. The sun is long gone, as we make our way to the parking lot. The field is empty, not a trace of the game that was played hours ago.
We get to her car and that’s when I realize that we didn’t even kiss. We haven’t since that day in my office before she got sick. When I pushed her away. When I admitted to the feelings I had months ago. The feelings I still have, but will shove down deep if it means I get to be with her, even casually. I want to kiss her, but I won’t. Not now. Not like this.
She throws me a half-smile as she opens her car door. “Goodnight, Rich Boy. Thank you for the—” She pauses. “Thanks for getting me out of my head for a little while.”
“Anytime.” She gets in and I close her door, watching her taillights disappear around the corner through the smoke from her exhaust. I look down and notice the hat I’m still holding. I remembered to grab it before we left the shed, but I forgot to give it back to her.
I run my fingers over the drawing on the front. That’s when it hits me. This woman who throws punches during a recreational softball game while wearing her lucky pizza hat? Yeah, there’s no recovering from her.
21
ALLIE
Hazel eyes stareat me in absolute horror as I jump on one foot while shaking my leg out of the other side of my leggings.
“What’s that look for?” I ask.
Emory reaches up to physically close her own mouth with the tip of her finger. “Who the hell are you having sex with? Damon Salvatore?”
“What?”
I look down.Oh, shit.I didn’t even think to hide the hickeys that run up my thighs, my belly, and the tops of my breasts. I told Ashton to keep the love bites to areas that no one would see, but I failed to remember that Emory and I have been getting dressed together for years. I didn’t even think twice before deciding to share a fitting room with her.
“Oh,” I say as I pull my pants all the way off and slip a black skater dress off the hanger. “I’m afraid that’s classified.”
Emory finishes undressing and pulls on a gray-and-white polka dot maternity dress. She looks in the mirror and tilts her head to the side, momentarily distracted enough that she doesn’t press for more information.
“I look like I’m a cake at a minimalist gender reveal.”
I come up behind her. “You don’t look like a cake.”
“Tell that to my tiers.”
“You’re beautiful,” I laugh as I look at my own reflection. This dress is so short, you can see the pink and purple marks on my thighs. I definitely can’t wear this tonight.
It’s been a month since the softball game. Needless to say, I was kicked off the team after my violent outburst. I don’t care what anyone says, that ump had something personal against me.
Ashton and I have fallen into a rhythm. After work, I go to his house or he comes to mine. We fuck, he tries to cuddle, I humor him for long enough so he won’t accuse me of being against aftercare, we shower, we usually end up fucking again in the shower, and then we go our separate ways. No sleepovers. No kissing. Not from his lack of trying on both fronts. We’ve obviously kissed before, and I’m not against it in general, but kissing Ashton is different. It feels like hope, and that’s not something I can afford to have right now. Not when I’m trying to support two people on a salary meant for one.
