Page 47 of Praising the Pitcher

Holy shit. I knew her dad was controlling, but I didn’t realize he’d take things this far. I’m still formulating what the hell even to say when she speaks again.

“Oh, and my pitching coach. He’s gone too. And my personal trainer—gone.”

“Gigi, I can give you money to pay them—” The thought comes from my lips before I can even think how she’ll feel about it, and she quickly shakes her head.

“No. You don’t get it. They would work with me for free; it’s not that.” She exhales. “My dad threatened to ruin their reputations if they continued to work with me.” She side-glances me. “Besides, I wouldn’t be comfortable with you paying for my lessons.”

“And I wouldn’t care,” I say, point-blank. “Because you’re an NEU athlete and I’d want to help.”

I tell myself that’s the only reason, but I know that’s bullshit. I’d pay because I’d want to be her superhero. I’d want to be the one who helped her when she needed it most, even though that’s pushing this friendship into a place I swore it wouldn’t go.

I rest my head on the back of my seat, sighing. “All week I thought you hated me,” I whisper. “When my messages wouldn’t go through, I figured you blocked my number or something.”

That irks her, which is the last thing I wanted to do. “And why would I do that?” she bites back. “What reason would I have to block you, Noah?”

I’ve put her in defense mode without even meaning to.

“I don’t know, because I was … kind of a dick after my game the other night.” I shrug, swallowing thickly. “When you said maybe you should try sleeping at The Nest, I should have said you were coming home with me. Not dropped you off at the place you don’t feel safe.”

She turns slightly toward the window, looking out at the now empty parking lot.

“It’s fine. It’s good. I needed to get used to being back at my own house.” Finally, she turns to face me, her shoulders shrugging. “After all, it doesn’t make much sense for me to stay with you.”

It makes all the fucking sense.

I may think the words, but I’m not going to say them. I have no right to.

“Yeah, but are you even sleeping?” I ask, eyeing her over and knowing she isn’t. I think right now, as we speak, she’s fighting back a yawn.

“Yeah, I am.” She gives a dart of her chin, as if it’s her way of telling me to drop it. She should know by now I’m not going to do that.

“Oh really?” I lift a quizzical brow. “So you’re telling me if I asked you to go back to my place right now and watch a movie, you wouldn’t drift off?”

Something shifts, and suddenly, she feels colder.

“I have some reading and notes to do before my class later,” she says mindlessly. “So I can’t come over.” She looks at me, forcing a smile. “Besides, I’m getting used to sleeping there again. Probably best if I stick with that.”

Everything changed the night I drove her home from my game. The night Haven’s words halted my flirtatious actions, making me realize I was playing with fire—risking the sweetest girl I know getting burned. I pretended to be indifferent on the ride to The Nest that night and I know it.

And how she’s acting right now proves she knows it too.

“Are we good, Smoke?” My voice comes out far raspier than I intend it to, but there’s just something about this heavy weight—fear that she hates me crushing my soul, making me weak.

Her eyes flutter a few times in a rapid blink, like I’ve caught her off guard, before her throat moves slightly as she swallows.

“Why wouldn’t we be?” Her voice is soft, yet there’s an undeniable hint of disappointment in it.

I flinch, but it’s not her words that bring that reaction. It’s the fact she isn’t looking me in the eyes anymore.

“I don’t know,” I murmur, lying through my teeth. I know why we aren’t okay right now, and it’s all my fault.

I’ve done it again. I’ve made shit weird between me and one of my sister’s best friends. She isn’t comfortable with me the way she was just days ago. In fact, she’s anything but.

I fucking hate it.

Despite how much I’ve harped on us being just friends—which we are—I’ve become infatuated by being the one who’s been picking up her broken pieces lately and putting them all together.

Holding her together.