Page 45 of Convincing the Catcher

Then I remember that he also took the fall for something he didn’t do just so that his teammates wouldn’t get into trouble. Saving people? That seems to be his thing.

“You can,” I utter. “If you want to.”

“Where do you want it?” he whispers, swallowing.

Normally, my abdomen isn’t somewhere I like to put it because I’ve had to dive for balls before, even as a catcher, to make a tag out. So, I have to strategically place it where it’s less likely to be ripped out. But I don’t plan on leaving my mom this week, so my stomach makes the most sense, I suppose.

Pushing the towel off my body, I point to a spot on my abdomen before my instincts finally kick in and I wrap my arms around my chest to cover my breasts.

Cane tries his best to stay calm, but I can feel the nerves radiating off him, worried he’ll mess this up.

Step by step, he talks his way through it, and I’m not sure if it’s to make sure with me that he’s not messing up or for himself just to ensure he doesn’t miss a step. Either way, it’s obvious that when he watched the videos or saw me do it myself, he was paying attention.

“How much goes in here?” he asks, holding the vile and the syringe.

“One hundred units,” I whisper, watching him draw up the liquid to the mark, checking numerous times that it’s correct before flicking it a few times to get any air bubbles out.

Pushing the medication into the small area in the device that holds it, he brings it to my abdomen, pressing it to my skin. “Okay, here’s the hardware.” He doesn’t press it into my skin to secure it just yet. “So, this one gives you the insulin when needed, right?”

“Yeah. The Omnipod gives the medication; the Dexcom monitors everything. I don’t have to change that one for a few more days.”

He swallows sharply before pushing down on the device to secure it against me and sending the wire into my skin. Even though he did it, I can sense that he didn’t enjoy it because I’m sure he thinks it hurts. And typically, at least for a split second, it does. But today? Today, I feel absolutely nothing. In fact, if I didn’t hear the sound of it being pushed in, I wouldn’t even know.

And I sit here like a zombie while he finishes up. Once he’s done, he pulls the towel over me again before getting rid of all the waste.

He probably covered me up because he couldn’t stand to look at me.

Cane has been with a lot of women—at least, that’s the word around campus. And I’m sure they were all gorgeous and seductive. Me? I’m a twenty-year-old virgin whose first time being naked in front of a man was while he had to shower me because I was too screwed up to do it myself.

When he reaches for the shirt, my hand catches his before he can bring it over my head. He stares at me, his eyes dancing between mine, like he’s trying to figure out what the hell I’m doing.

“Cane,” I whisper, my lip quivering.

His brows pull together subtly. “Yeah, Catch?”

“I can’t feel anything,” I croak, a lone tear rolling down my cheek. “Make me feel something.”

I don’t even understand what I’m saying right now; all I know is, I can’t take it back. It’s like I’m out of my body, watching myself from across the room. Everything is numb, and I guess somewhere inside … I must need Cane to be closer to me.

“Harland,” he utters, sliding a hand to my cheek. “That’s not why I’m in here, helping you, I promise. You don’t need to—we don’t need to do anything.”

Throwing the towel off like a madwoman, I reach for his shirt, balling it in my fist and pulling his face to mine. I’ve barely kissed someone, so I don’t know what I’m doing, but the second our lips meet, I seem to figure it out.

He’s reluctant at first, but soon, he kisses back. It’s not eager, the way my mouth is moving. Instead, it’s slower, and he slides his hand into my wet hair. He’s keeping it sweet when I need more. I need to do something that I’ve never done because maybe that’ll fix me. Maybe it will make me come out of this fog.

Losing my virginity will take away from the fact that my dad is dead. I need Cane to be the guy I know he is inside and kiss me like he means it.

“Please, Cane,” I whimper against his mouth. My nipples strain against the fabric of his shirt, and before I know it, my legs are spreading wide. “Take the pain away.” I sniffle. “Be my first. I need … I need this.” I blurt the words out of my mouth before I can stop them.

When his body freezes, I know with everything I am that I said too much.

“You’re a virgin, Harland?” he murmurs against my lips, his eyes closed.

Shame starts to flood my veins, but it quickly stops because right now, I don’t care about being ashamed. I just need a distraction.

“So what if I am?” I croak. “What does it matter to you?”

“It matters a lot,” he says, his voice pained. “It matters so fucking much.”