Page 33 of Praising the Pitcher

“Good,” I praise. “Now say, I’m Gigi Jacobs, and I’m a great pitcher and softball player,” I command, keeping my eyes locked on hers.

“I’m Gigi Jacobs, and I’m a great pitcher and softball player,” she repeats, this time with a tiny bit more emotion in her voice.

“Good girl,” I whisper, stroking her cheek and trying to ignore her squirming at my touch. “I’m Gigi Jacobs, and I like to read spicy books because I don’t have time for a fucking man because I’m too busy being a baddie,” I say, throwing the swear in there because sometimes … it just feels good to say fuck.

I don’t want to embarrass her more about reading spicy books, but I want her to be proud of who she is and what she likes. Her whole life, she’s had to be everything her father wanted her to be. Now she can be herself, and she shouldn’t have to hide it.

Her cheeks are red, and she bites her lip.

“Go on,” I murmur.

“I’m Gigi Jacobs, and I like to read spicy books.” She pauses. “Because I don’t have time for a fucking man because I’m too busy being a—” She pauses, cringing. “Baddie.”

A grin spreads wide across my face. “Fucking right, you don’t. And even if you did, no one is good enough for you, Smoke.” I brush some strands of hair away from her face. “Don’t ever be ashamed of anything about yourself, Gigi. Okay?”

I know it’s easier said than done. Her dad has instilled it deep inside her that she’s basically put on earth to play softball, and even that is thanks to him because she’s nothing without his help. She won’t believe what I’m saying overnight; it’ll take a lot of work to retrain her brain. Still, if I can get her headed in the direction to do it, I will.

But at the end of the day, I’m a shithead who can’t help himself. And she’s already come out of her shell so much with me … what if I can keep this ball rolling.

“Now say … I can make myself come just as good as any man can.”

“Noah!” she scolds, but I lift a brow to challenge her.

“Uh, you’re the worst and I’m literally only doing this right now so you don’t think I’m a wimp.” She sighs, squeezing her eyes shut. “I can make myself … come … just as good as any man can.”

My dick jolts, and I think my heart skips a beat. Or maybe it just explodes in my chest, I’m not sure.

“Good girl,” I murmur, stroking her cheek. “Now add … other than Noah King.”

In a mere second, her eyes fly open and she smacks me—hard. But at least she’s smiling while she hits me once more.

“You’re not only the worst, but you’re also entirely too much,” she says, shaking her head at me. “You know that, right?”

“So I’ve been told.” I shrug before pulling her upward so she’s facing me, leaving us both sitting up on the bed. “Either way, if I have to force you every single day to remind yourself that you have nothing to be ashamed of and that you are a badass, I’ll do it,” I say honestly, knowing it’s weird how invested I am, and yet here I am—so fucking devoted to Gigi’s happiness.

“Thank you,” she says softly. “Even if that was low-key humiliating.”

For a split second, my eyes float to her perfect, plump lips. Even without any makeup on, they’re a pinkish-red color, probably because she bites down on them so often.

Fuck, I wish I could taste them. I know they’d taste as good as they look. When my eyes float back up to hers, I’m met with a hooded expression. We’re so close, and if this was any other woman in my bed, I’d have her naked by now. But she isn’t any other woman.

She’s my sister’s friend, and even if she wasn’t, she’s going through too much of her own shit for me to confuse her with sex.

I blink a few times, pulling myself out of the depths of her beautiful blue eyes.

“Netflix and chill?” I murmur, forcing a care-free grin. “I’ll even let you pick what we watch.”

“Anything?” she whispers, eyes widening.

“For you? Yep.” I nod and reach for the nightstand, handing her the remote. “As long as it’s not a horror movie or a creepy documentary, we’re good.”

“Why?” she says, taking the remote from me, smirking. “Does big bad football player Noah King get scared?”

“Yes,” I say quickly, bobbing my head up and down. “Yes, he does. And I’m man enough to admit it.”

“Loves Disney princesses and scared of horror movies and creepy documentaries?” She giggles. “Who would have thought?”

“Guess we all have our secrets, huh, Smoke?” I wink before kicking my shoes off.