Page 9 of Praising the Pitcher

“Lilly let me in. I have something that belongs to you,” he calls back. “Can you open the door, Smoke? I don’t bite.”

Kind of wish he did though …

I shake my head at my own embarrassing thought. Of course I don’t want him to bite me. Well, not really. Only a little bit …

Setting my Kindle back down, I slowly walk to the door and reach for the knob. For a few seconds, my palm just rests there, unsure if I even want to open it, but finally, it creaks as I pull back on it.

His bright blue eyes drink me in, but he doesn’t flash me his typical grin. Instead, he almost freezes up before finally, he smiles and holds up his hand.

“I think this belongs to you,” he says, and when he shows me his palm, my mother’s bracelet sits on it.

“Oh my gosh,” rushes from my lips in a whisper. “My mom’s bracelet.” Instinctively, my other hand wraps around my bare wrist. “I can’t believe I didn’t know I lost it.”

“Give me your hand.” His deep voice is low, and slowly, I drop my arm down and present my wrist to him.

He hooks the bracelet around it, slowly securing it with the clasp, and my skin tingles from his touch. A shiver runs down my spine, though I keep myself composed. I’m thankful for the oversized shirt I’m wearing because when my entire body erupts into goosebumps, my nipples also harden, proving how little action I’ve gotten in my life.

Literally the only action has been from a vibrator or my fingers …

“There, good as new,” he says, slowly moving his hand from my wrist.

I look down at it, knowing that once I got settled in bed, I would have figured out it wasn’t there and panicked. This bracelet was my mom’s favorite. Her mom got it for her when she had me.

“Thank you, Noah,” I whisper, bringing my arm to my chest and running my fingers over the jewelry. “I really appreciate it. Truly.”

“Happy to help, Smoke,” he drawls smoothly. “Well, good night.”

“Night,” I whisper, giving him a small smile.

When he backs away, I stop him.

“How did you know it was mine?” I blurt out, catching myself off guard.

Turning around, he grins, continuing to walk backward.

“Because I saw it on your pretty wrist earlier. Duh.” With a wink, he turns around and heads further down the hall, disappearing. And I’m left with sweaty palms, a racing heart, and maybe an ache between my thighs because Noah King touched me.

Good thing the book I’m reading is supposed to be spicy … I may need something to take the edge off before I can sleep.

FIVE

GIGI

Pushing my headphones onto my neck, I look down at my watch and slow from my jog to a walk. Despite it being mid-November and chilly, I am sweating from my three-mile run. Part of me wanted to just curl up in bed and watch Netflix, but I pushed myself to get it done so I won’t have to lie to my dad when he calls later to check if I got today’s cardio in. Because truthfully, I’m incapable of lying. I just can’t do it because I rat myself out from being so nervous.

Immediately when my hand reaches for the door, an unsettled feeling makes my stomach churn, but I can’t pinpoint why. Aside from Haven’s Jeep, everyone else is gone. Maybe that’s why I’m feeling weird right now, because for the first part of the school year, Haven’s ex had been tormenting her. But he’s gone now, so there’s no reason I should be anxious.

I still push the door open as quietly as I possibly can because I can’t shake this feeling in my stomach. A feeling telling me something is wrong.

I’m almost past the staircase to walk to my own room down the hall when the sound of voices stops me dead in my tracks.

I’d know that voice anywhere because I’ve heard it firsthand when the person it’s coming from was talking to Haven. It gave me the creeps then, and it’s making me sick now.

It’s Tabor—Haven’s ex.

I want to barge in and save her from whatever he’s putting her through. I know Haven enough to know she didn’t invite him here. Weeks ago, he vandalized her car. He’s crazy and he’s sick.

I listen a little longer, tears springing in my eyes as he tells her she’s coming with him. On the surface, she sounds calm, but I know her—we’re good friends. She sounds scared.