Page 127 of Hiding in the Outfield

Then he’s striding to me.

Hands grip my face, and his mouth crashes down on mine. I let out a squeak, and my hands shoot out to his biceps where I hold on for dear life as he claims a filthy kiss right here in the middle of my kitchen. Catcalls and wolf whistles erupt around us. A kitchen that contains an audience.

He pulls back and draws a finger down the center of my chest, then tugs lightly on my top. Those blue eyes are far from ice-blue now. No, there’s nothing but heat in them.

“Damn,” he whispers.

“I honestly can’t pick.” Shane’s voice breaks the charged moment.

He’s sitting on the table, feet kicking back and forth as he glances between us.

Maddy tosses his head from side to side, lips pursed. “I think I pick Jackson’s biceps and Frankie’s ass.”

“What the fuck is this?” I ask.

“We’re deciding who cleans up nicer,” Shane says.

“I think they both look very handsome,” East says.

Something in my chest softens. Easton Winters is the world’s biggest sweetheart.

Paulie rubs his chin, brows scrunched. “I think Frankie takes it. Like, Jackson is just in all black. Frankie’s got color and style.”

Maddy scoffs. “Jackson looks like he crushes skulls with those biceps, man. He’s oozing bad boy.” He lets out a sad sigh. “If only he were tatted.”

Shane’s smile goes lopsided. “Tatted men are the fucking best. Add in a piercing or two and—” He presses his fingers to his lips and kisses them.

Easton frowns, staring at Maddy. “I’m not tatted…”

“Yet,” Maddy says matter-of-factly.

I shake my head, lips twitching. “All right. Are we allowed to go on our date now?”

Shane makes a shooing motion. “Yes, you two kids get out of here.”

Jackson grins and laces our hands together, pulling me toward the door.

“But we’ll be waiting up!” Shane calls.

“Jackson, don’t bring him back past curfew,” Paulie adds.

Jackson leans toward me. “What’s curfew?”

I lift a shoulder and shoot him a sly smile. “They never specified, so I guess whatever we want it to be.”

“Midnight!”

Ugh. I flip Paulie off over my shoulder, and the guys snicker.

We step out of the townhouse. “Don’t forget to wrap it!” Maddy’s call cuts off as the door snaps shut behind us.

I drop my head to Jackson’s chest and dissolve into laughter. “They’re so cheesy,” I mumble.

We settle into my car, something Jackson got very flustered over earlier when he asked if it was okay if I drove. He felt like he should be driving since he’s the one taking me out on a date, but his car doesn’t have air conditioning, and he thought we’d be more comfortable in mine. It’s the end of July, and the last thing I want on this date is my makeup melting off my face, so I didn’t need any convincing.

“Where to, hot stuff?”

He plugs an address into my car’s navigation system. An address I recognize.