Page 20 of Praising the Pitcher

Wetting her lips, her eyelids grow heavy.

“Okay,” she whispers.

Before she completely drifts off to sleep, I can’t stop myself from asking her one last thing.

“I can sleep on the couch, or I can sleep right beside you—whatever you want, Smoke. That’s what I’ll do.”

Her eyes are closed now, but her hand reaches for my forearm, and she gives it a pat.

“Stay here,” she murmurs. “With me.”

Maybe she’s already asleep, I don’t know. I should probably make sure she’s awake by asking her to repeat herself, but I’m not going to do that. So instead, I crawl into bed beside her and gently wrap my arms around her body. Keeping her close.

Keeping her safe.

Most dorms just have a tiny twin bed, but where I’m alone in this room and I’m a pretty big boy who’s also an athlete, I’m lucky enough to get a full—which is still a tight fit it seems. But even if it was a twin bed, if she asked me to stay, I’d hang half my body off the side all night just to be close to her while she got her rest.

Within a few minutes, soft snores come from her nose, and I smile because I know she’s dozing in my arms. I didn’t have to offer her sleeping pills either. She felt safe enough with me to drift off, and even though I know each second I spend with her I get closer to crossing an invisible line, I’m also honored as hell that she’s letting me be the man to be here for her.

No one can take that from me, ever.

TEN

GIGI

The sound of a distant door slamming, followed by a few loud, deep voices growing closer before drifting further away pull me from my slumber, and I wonder if one of the girls had company last night. I’m awake, though I can’t seem to peel my eyes open. This bed is so warm and cozy, and it’s been so long since I’ve woken up before my alarm.

Rubbing my eyes, I try to pry them open, but before I do, an arm that’s apparently wrapped around me pulls me closer into a warm chest. It’s suddenly not a struggle to wake up because now … my heart is thumping and my eyes are as wide as plates.

How could I forget I’m in Noah freaking King’s bed???

I look at the clock on the nightstand—an old-school alarm clock—and I think my eyes probably bug out more when I see it reads eight thirty in the morning. I can’t remember the last time I slept in this late. But I have to admit, I feel so much better now than I did last night before getting all that sleep.

I may have skipped out on strength training, but practice begins in an hour and a half, and I always like to be half an hour early—at least. So as much as I’d like to stay here in this bed, all wrapped up in the one guy I know I’ll never have, I can’t. Taking a big breath, I unwrap Noah’s strong arms from around me before scootching off the bed.

I stayed the night in Noah’s bed. I even wore his clothes. This seems like something out of a book I’ve read. The good girl who doesn’t date staying the night with the guy who dates everyone.

I look around the room until I find my clothes from yesterday. I could go down the hallway to the bathroom and change, but how many guys would be in there? And who would see me leaving Noah’s room? That’s how the rumor mill starts to turn, and when it comes to one of my best friend’s hot brothers, I don’t need the rumors to fly.

I look at him, and when he shows no sign of waking up anytime soon, I cringe. I can’t leave this dorm and do the walk of shame all the way across campus to The Nest wearing his NEU T-shirt and gray sweatpants. I’d never let myself live it down. I need to put my own clothes back on.

Swallowing thickly, I tiptoe toward his desk where my clothes sit in the chair beside it. I turn away from him, because if he’s going to see anything, I’d rather it not be my pathetic boobs. I’m sure he’s used to the biggest, bounciest breasts, and that’s not what I’m working with.

Peeling the T-shirt over my head, I grab my bra first and pull it on. I don’t even make it to my long-sleeved shirt let alone my sweatshirt before his deep voice has me damn near jumping.

“Well, well, well, what a nice sight to wake up to,” he drawls slowly, and I yank the shirt over my head, covering up my nearly bare back.

Turning toward him, I roll my eyes. “You’re obnoxious, Noah King!” I scold. “I checked to make sure you were sound asleep so many times!”

In true playboy fashion, he puts his hands behind his head and smirks. “Maybe I’m really good at faking it.”

“Probably like the women you bring home …” I murmur without even thinking, even though I know that’s probably not true. Yet, here I am, being a jerk to the guy who just offered his bed and his arms to help me sleep.

Of course he’s unfazed, simply grinning at me as his eyes glimmer with amusement.

“Girls may do a lot of things when they’re with me, but faking it?” He winks. “Definitely not one of them, Smoke.”

“You’re so full of yourself. You know that, right?” I pull my sweatshirt on before I peel the hair tie from my wrist and pull my hair into a ponytail. “You know, it’s not that hard to moan.”