Page 63 of I Wish He Would

I groan. “I think it was the conch fritters.” I should’ve known better than to eat that much fried food. During the season, I primarily eat lots of protein and good carbohydrates. I was doing so well at the barbecue, eating lots of jerk chicken, a rice dish, and a fresh fruit salad. But when I saw the table of fried foods, I told myself I’d have just one bite each of coconut shrimp and a conch fritter. A man has to live, and if I’m in the Caribbean, that means trying all the food. But then one bite turned into multiple bites of the fritters that are now sitting heavy in my stomach, too.

“And the ice cream,” she teases.

Okay, maybe I had a small bowl of soft serve. When I got some for Crew and Rhys to share, it looked so refreshing that I couldn’t resist. “I’m not the only one who had a bowl.”

“We both know I love sweets.” I’m well aware of her cookie obsession—the one that brought her to my house after every unfortunate first date. “Besides, I’m not the one who’s supposed to be staying in shape for their multimillion-dollar baseball contract.”

“I guess my body is insured by the Mustangs,” I mumble.

She laughs. “As it should be.”

“Oh, really?” I lean up on my elbows. “What price sticker would you put on it?”

We’ve officially ventured further into flirting territory—step one in the game plan—and I’m here for it. The guys will be proud. Or make fun of me. Probably both.

Alyssa sucks in a breath. “You want me to put a dollar amount on your body?”

“There’s this thing called sarcasm. Maybe you’ve heard of it?”

She hums. “Mm, don’t think I have.”

“Glad to be the one to enlighten you.” I glance over as she readjusts her weight on the edge of the bed. My eyes move to the plush comforter, then back to her. “Are we ever going to talk about the elephant in the room?” I catch a glimpse of her blush before she turns to face the balcony. “I can sleep on the couch,” I offer.

“Have you tried sitting on that thing?” She grimaces. “I’m not letting you tweak your back. I’ll sleep on it.”

I shake my head. “Absolutely not.”

“I’m younger than you and shorter.”

“What does being younger have to do with it?”

“I can bounce back faster.”

I shoot her a look. “I’m only, what, three years older than you? Plus my body’s insured, remember? I don’t think you told me what price you’d put on it, though.”

She throws one of the decorative pillows at me. “One dollar.”

I dodge the pillow and clutch my chest. “I don’t think my ego will ever recover.”

Alyssa slides a leg up under her. “Is that insured by your team, too?”

“Hilarious,” I deadpan. “If I won’t let you sleep on the couch and you won’t let me sleep on the couch, where does that leave us?”

She’s quiet as she looks around the room. “It is a big bed.”

“You’d be comfortable sharing it?”

After another long drag of silence, she nods. “We’re two grown adults. We can share a bed without it being weird.”

“Exactly.” I inhale a breath, needing more air in my lungs at the thought of being so close to her all night long. “Not weird at all.”

“I have another issue, though.” She fidgets with the hem of her white linen shirt. “I didn’t bring any pajamas.”

I think back to when I unpacked for her…and the silky little tops and shorts that I avoided touching and tried to forget about. But I’m remembering them very clearly right now. Okay, I can see why she’d be uncomfortable wearing those around me when she probably packed them thinking she’d have her own room.

I push up from the bed. “You can borrow my shirt.” I grab my favorite T-shirt from my suitcase. It has the Boston College logo on it and is perfectly worn in. It reminds me of home and family and nostalgia from my time playing college ball.

I toss it to her and she catches it.