Page 64 of Praising the Pitcher

“Well, we’re sleeping buddies I thought,” I say, trying to turn on my usual charm, but I’m too fucking annoyed to fully sell it.

“I was on the phone,” she says, snappier than she usually is.

“Yeah, with that fuckstick Benny.” I narrow my eyes, my blood warming with anger. “What the fuck kind of name is Benny? And why is he calling you at almost eleven at night?”

“I don’t see why that’s your business,” she scolds in a hushed tone before she stands up and marches toward me. “Exactly, it’s not!”

There’s nothing about Gigi that could piss me off, but here she stands, mouthing off and doing exactly that … pissing me the hell off.

Her blonde hair flows down her back, pushed behind both ears, and she keeps her arms folded tightly in front of her, covering her perfect tits from my sight. I saw the woman who broke my heart today, and I didn’t even feel an ounce of jealousy toward her or my ex best friend. And yet, hearing the woman in front of me so much as chat on the phone with my teammate has me acting like a madman.

“This may be your house, and we may have had sleepovers before, but you can’t just come in here when I’m on the phone⁠—”

I step closer, grabbing her wrist and dropping her arms before I close the small gap. My hands move upward and I grip her face and lean down, attacking her lips with mine to shut her up. Her body tenses, becoming a brick wall before her hands lift and she shoves at my chest.

I don’t stop kissing her, and within seconds, her hands stop fighting me and her lips move against mine. For a girl who has little experience, her kiss is hot enough to have my dick rock hard. She tastes better than I ever imagined—and it makes my head fucking spin.

I’m so fucking caught up in the moment—caught up in her. Her sweet lips, her minty tongue and her soft moans into my mouth. I don’t want to stop. Fuck no, I want to keep going. I want to stay in here with her all night and see how sweet she is other places. But it registers that I shouldn’t be doing this. If I was that jealous just now, what the fuck would I be like if she was actually mine? She’s such a good girl. Most of all, she’s already dealt with her dad’s controlling ass her entire life. What if my own insecurities made me that way?

She’d hate that. And eventually, she’d hate me.

Finally, I place my hands on her shoulders and tear my lips from hers. Her eyes flutter open and she stares up at me, her hard nipples straining against her shirt.

“I’m sorry, Smoke.” I can hardly get the words out, my breath completely gone from my soul.

“Why?” she rasps, her eyes growing bigger with sudden regret, almost as if she knows what I’m about to say.

“Because you deserve a whole lot more than what I can give you,” I whisper, swallowing. “You make me lose my mind more than anyone ever has.”

“And that’s a bad thing, why?”

“Because look at me right now. I’m in here because you were on the phone and I lost my fucking shit and couldn’t let it go on for another second.” I reach up to stroke her cheek but drop my hand down because I know once I touch her again, it’ll be impossible to stop. “I don’t want to give you a reason to hate me. And if I let this go on … I know that’s what is going to happen.”

I hate that I have this jealous side of me, hidden from the world but always lingering just below the surface, deep where no one can see until I show them. She’s had sex one time in her life. She’s never been on a proper date. Never been loved or loved someone else. She deserves the best relationship and the sweetest person to be in it with. From the outside looking in, I probably look like I could be that guy. But the truth is … I’m not.

I can’t be that for her.

What if I was the exact opposite?

She goes to reach for me again, but I take her hand, holding it away from me so she can’t actually touch me because I know one more touch and I’d be losing control of this situation. I hate it, because I’m sure it took a lot of nerve for her to do it in the first place. She’s always so shy, but with me, she’s opening up.

And look what I’m doing to her …

I hate myself for what comes out of my mouth next. Mostly, I hate my traitorous ex for being the root of the darkness that’s grown inside me. The darkness that’s filled with jealousy and distrust.

“You should give Benny a chance.” I force the words out, even though I hate how they feel and sound leaving my lips. Still, I know the right thing to do is to let her go, so I add more. “If you think he’s a good guy … you should go for it.”

Her eyes grow bigger, filling with hurt as they dance across my face, searching for something that says I’m kidding.

“But … you just said—” Her whisper is cut off by none other than me.

“I know what I said,” I utter. “I wasn’t thinking clearly. I don’t a lot of the time.” I swallow back my need to kiss her again. “I’m not the guy you should be kissing, Smoke.” My back teeth grind together with frustration. “Even if I wish I could be.”

Before she gets the chance to open her mouth to say something back, I turn away from her and leave the room. And yeah, it’s the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. And I don’t know if that’s because it hurts her … or because I want her so badly.

Either way, it fucking sucks.

TWENTY-FOUR