Page 22 of Praising the Pitcher

His smirk grows, and he leans even closer. “Actually, I got hot with your body against mine all night, so I had to strip because I was sweating my nuts off.” He steps back, standing taller. “You’re welcome though … for the show. Look all you want, Smoke. I’m not bashful.”

This time, I reach over and shove him harder. “Go. Shower. Now,” I growl, though my heart is racing quickly. “Before I change my mind.”

He gives me a knowing grin before he struts toward the door, walking out of his dorm and toward the bathroom—all the while in his tight briefs. And all I can think about is …

What lucky people will get to see him in the hallway? And why am I jealous thinking about that?

Once the door closes behind him, I quickly finish dressing. Being close to Noah seems to be the only time my mind can relax, but realizing that fact sends me into a panic.

Talk about a catch-22.

NOAH

Even though she’s here and we’re standing by the pick-up counter, waiting for our order, it’s obvious she’s losing her mind as the clock ticks, getting closer to nine a.m. She’s pacing slightly and keeps looking at her phone. I’m all about being on time for practice and taking shit seriously, but this girl has been reminded by her dad daily for her entire life that even killing herself trying isn’t good enough, and now, she doesn’t know how to relax.

“Plenty of time, I promise,” I say to her, patting her arm. “I know how important being on time is to you, and I would never make you late. But you said yourself you need to eat.” The girl on the other side of the counter holds up a bowl and a smoothie, sliding them toward us.

“Sorry that took so long,” she says, smiling. I swear every time I order a fruit bowl, they say that, like it doesn’t always take them what seems like eternity to make.

I take both, handing the bowl to her. She’s never been here before and let me order for her. I know she’s picky about what she puts in her body, and the one I always get may have Nutella in it, but hopefully she’ll just look at all the fruit and tell herself it’s healthy enough for her to eat before practice.

I lead us toward the door because I know there’s no way in hell she’s going to want to sit down and enjoy it.

“This looks really good,” she says as I open the passenger door for her. “Why didn’t you get one if you like this place so much?”

“I felt like a smoothie instead,” I say, lying because I actually only got a smoothie because I knew she wanted to get home quickly before practice and I can’t use a spoon while driving down the road.

Well, I could, but I’m not going to with her in the cab of my truck …

I glance over at her, and even though I’m thrilled she looks more rested after getting some sleep, I frown when I take off down the road and she continues holding the closed bowl on her lap.

“What are you waiting for?” I ask, nodding downward at it. “It’s going to melt.”

She doesn’t look at me right away, cringing. “Well, I, uh … I don’t usually eat in the car.” Her voice squeaks at the end of her sentence. “My dad is sort of a clean freak. And I guess he passed it on to me.” She sighs. “Just more great qualities that make me so fun to be around.”

My heart literally fucking hurts in my chest because every move she makes, she second guesses. Her dad has instilled this sense of uneasiness inside her because of how much he’s controlled her life.

“I’m not your dad, Smoke,” I say, smiling at her to try to make her more comfortable. “And even if you dumped the whole fucking bowl out in my seat, I wouldn’t be mad at you.” I wink playfully. “Eat, Gigi. We’ve got about eight minutes before I drop you off at your house for practice, and then I know you’ll have to change. Might as well get your stomach full now.”

Unsure, she looks from me to the bowl before finally, she takes the lid off and grabs her spoon.

“Nutella?” she questions with a light chuckle. “I’ve always wondered what this stuff tastes like.”

She brings the spoon of frozen mixture, fruit, and chocolate to her mouth, and I keep my eyes on the road because watching her slide that spoon between her plump lips would be enough to have me thinking inappropriate thoughts I most definitely don’t need to have.

“Mmm,” she murmurs, taking another bite. “Not sure how nutritiously beneficial the chocolate drizzled on the fruit is but … it’s really good.”

“Better than your typical breakfast?” I ask her playfully.

“Yep.” She giggles. “It really is.”

It may just be one small change from the regimen her father has convinced her she needs to stick to every single day, but it’s a small change she’s enjoying. And for some reason, that right there gives me great joy because she deserves it.

We ride in mostly silence toward The Nest, but it’s not an uncomfortable one—the opposite actually. Because even though we don’t know each other well, we’re learning the hard things, and that’s bringing us closer.

I may have a rule against not hooking up with Haven’s friends, but Gigi needs me right now. She needs someone to lift her up and to break her away from her father with all his quirks and rules.

I can be her friend—there’s no rule against that.