twenty-five
Nico
Whathasotherwisebeenan amazing week has now officially gone sideways. My brain feels about two seconds away from exploding.
The guys and I won four of our six games, keeping the Evaders in the number one slot. I added two more home runs to my record. And I’m finally making some headway with Savannah.
At least I think I am.
We’ve been texting each other every day since I left. It started with brief insights into our days, but recently our chats have evolved into more personal conversations. Things we like. Our pet peeves. All the little things that make Savannah who she is, and like a greedy starving man, I eat up every crumb she drops.
I’m also pretty sure she’s enjoyed the dinners I’ve had delivered to her apartment in the guise of keeping her from starting a fire while I’m gone. They say the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, so I figured the same could be said for women.
Another shot of pain hits me behind the eyes and settles in my temple, throbbing in time to my racing pulse.
I inhale and exhale slowly, trying to quell the thoughts of Savannah swirling in my head. I can’t think about her right now. Not while my brain pounds in my skull like Nick Cannon playing a drumline. Yes, I knowDrumline. I grew up in a house with six women who love a good rom-com.
Just because I’m a jock doesn’t mean I don’t love a good Tom Hanks movie here and there. I just don’t go around advertising that information to people.
My phone buzzes in my pocket as I stagger out of the elevator with my shoulder bag and suitcase.
Unfortunately, my head is so scrambled I lose my balance and trip over the carpet, slamming my shoulder into the wall and dropping my bag onto the floor.
“Fuck.” I groan. That’s going to hurt tomorrow.
I close my eyes against the bright overhead lights and take a deep breath. I don’t hear Savannah until it’s too late, and I can feel the heat of her body beside me.
“Nico.” Her usually snappy voice is woven with concern, and fuck, do I hate it. I don’t like people, not even my family, seeing me in the middle of a migraine. I’m supposed to be the strong one, and here I am looking pathetic and helpless. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I’m fine.” I don’t have the energy to stand, so I lean my head against the cool wall and take a deep breath.
“Like hell you are.” The attitude she dishes out settles over me, and if my head wasn’t about to pop, the head in my pants would.
I open my eyes a sliver to find Savannah’s worried face in front of mine. Her hair is in a messy bun, and her face is shiny like she was wearing one of those paper face masks before bed. The overhead light blinds me while giving her an angelic halo. She’s so close I can see the orange and yellow flecks in her irises glow as her amber eyes search my face.
“Fuck, you’re gorgeous.”
Savannah sighs as she fights back a shy smile. “Save the flirting for later, baseball boy.”
“Not flirting. Just stating a fact.”
She hums and runs her fingers through my hair. When she gently digs her nails into my scalp, shivers rush down my spine.
“Fuck, that feels good,” I grumble.
“You have a headache,” she states.
I close my eyes and jerk my chin. I regret the action instantly as another sharp pain stabs me behind my left eye.
“Migraine?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Come on. Let’s get you inside.”
I crack my eyes open to watch Savannah grab my duffle bag and throw it over her shoulder. “Are you going to carry me inside too?”
Savannah lifts my arm over her shoulders. “No, you’re a giant.” I’d laugh if I weren’t in pain. She digs her shoulder into my armpit, helping me stand, and wraps her arm around my waist, balancing my weight as she reaches for the handle on my suitcase. “But I’m stronger than I look, so use me for balance.”
