Page 18 of Praising the Pitcher

Sighing, I toss the paper towel into the trash bin and grab the handle before pulling the door open. I’m strong. My arms are rugged, and yet the door feels like it weighs two hundred pounds.

As it finally opens, I’m too tired to be stunned when I’m met with a pair of ocean-blue eyes and dark tousled hair as Noah stands in the doorway. He doesn’t wear his usual smirk, but instead, a look of concern. He studies me for a second, his eyes creasing at the sides.

“You all right, Smoke?” he murmurs, but before I can answer with my typical I’m fine, he stops me. “And don’t lie and say you’re fine or you’re good. I can tell something’s up.”

My mouth hangs open as I stare up at him. Instantly, I want to go in defensive mode, but even forcing a sentence out requires energy I don’t have.

“I’m just tired,” I finally muster up. “That’s all.”

His eyes search my face, and for a few seconds he’s silent before his eyes narrow the slightest bit. Not in a judging way but more in a I’ve-figured-you-out way.

“You haven’t been sleeping since everything happened with Tabor?” he whispers. “That’s why you were awake so late the other night, isn’t it?”

My eyes dart to the floor as shame fills my body. I don’t want to come off as trying to victimize myself for something that happened to his sister. This is her problem. She’s the one who shouldn’t be sleeping, not me. I was just there.

“I’m fine,” I whisper. “Haven is the one who⁠—”

“Went through a lot but also has a boyfriend to talk to about it all,” he says, cutting me off. “Is that it, Gigi? Is that why you’re so tired?” He uses my name now, and even though that shouldn’t make a difference, it somehow does.

His hand reaches forward, and he gently tilts my chin upward, forcing me to look him in the eyes. “You can talk to me. I promise.”

There’s something about the way he says the words, and the look in his eyes, a look of pure concern with no ulterior motive, relaxes me.

“Yes,” I finally admit, and my shoulders slump. “I know I should be fine, but I’m just … I’ve been having a hard time.” I squeeze my eyes shut when a rush of dizziness hits. “I wanted to take a sleeping pill, just to try … but I—” I stop talking, swallowing a lump in my throat, not wanting to finish the sentence because it’s crazy.

“You’re worried he’ll come back and you won’t wake up,” Noah rasps, somehow knowing the unspoken fear I’m holding onto.

Now his hand slides to my cheek, and he dips his face closer to mine. I close my eyes, squeezing them shut because I’m not sure if the exhaustion has finally taken over and I’m just imagining him this close to me or if he’s actually here.

“Open your eyes, Smoke,” his deep voice rasps. “I know you’re tired, and I know you need sleep, but just for a few seconds, I need you to look at me.”

Reluctantly, my lids flutter open, and I stare into his calming blue eyes. My own fill with tears, though I’m not sure why. I want to chalk it up to delirium from exhaustion, but something tells me it’s deeper than that.

“Tabor is gone, all right? He will never bother you or my sister again.” His nose hovers just above mine, almost touching it. “I promise, Gigi. Okay?”

A single tear falls from my eyes, streaming down my face. My throat burns, but I look up at him, mustering a single nod.

“Okay,” I whisper, feeling myself starting to break. “I’m just … I’m so tired.” My voice breaks into a whimper.

I don’t close my eyes again. I stand here, frozen, with him this close to me. Finally, he swallows.

“I know you are,” he says gently. “I’m going to tell my sister you’re not feeling good and we’re going to get an Uber so I can take you home. And then you’re going to sleep. If it’s The Nest making it hard for you to sleep, come to my dorm. I don’t share a room with anyone, and I have a couch I can sleep on so you can take my bed.”

It sounds nice … to go somewhere else that isn’t The Nest, where everything happened with Haven and Tabor. But when my phone vibrates in my pocket, I cringe because I know it’s likely my dad, and he knows I’m not at home in bed even though it’s after nine at night.

“I should really go back to The Nest,” I whisper, my lip quivering. “My dad will be upset if I don’t.”

“How will he know?” Noah asks, his brows pulling together subtly.

I close my eyes, blinking a few times before sighing. “Because … he makes me share my location,” I finally admit, embarrassed. “And he doesn’t like when I’m out late. Especially on nights I have practice and training early the next day.”

“Answer me this honestly—do you think you’d sleep better somewhere else?” he questions, keeping his hand on my face.

I shrug my shoulders the tiniest bit. “Maybe.”

“Then don’t worry about your dad, Gigi,” he says evenly, because he doesn’t know my dad enough to know better. “You need sleep. And you’re an adult. A responsible, hardworking, smart adult.” His lips turn up in the smallest smile. “If we get to my place and you still can’t sleep, I’ll take you home. But not sleeping isn’t something to fuck with, and I’m worried about you.” He inhales. “What do you say?”

Maybe it’s the feeling of fear leaving my body as I look into his eyes, or it might be joy at the thought of finally sleeping. Whatever it is has me nodding my head.