Page 145 of Hiding in the Outfield

The door inches open.

Blue eyes lock on mine, and he takes a couple steps into the room.

I’m so calm. I’m so calm.

Time softens, swirls around us, and continues moving while we remain rooted to the spot. Life goes on around us, but we’re stuck in our own continuum. Just Frankie and Jackie.

I scan him, cataloging every inch, like I’m going to find him somehow different, even though it’s only been a little over a day since I’ve seen him. My gaze meets his just as his lifts from having taken its own trip over me.

And then everything lurches as our little bubble hurtles forward to crash back into time with reality.

I don’t know who moves first, but we collide, mouths falling together.

Hands slide under my thighs, and I wrap myself around him. Arms. Legs. Hands. He’s not going anywhere. Ever. He better be ready to play baseball like this.

My back hits the mattress, and the comforting weight of a nearly three hundred pound wall of muscle closes over me. Yesss. Bury me in these muscles. I won’t be happy until my lungs complain from lack of breath. Because then I know this is real. That he’s here.

He slides a knee up and balances on a forearm, taking some weight off me. I whimper, and he laughs into our kiss.

“I’ll crush you,” he whispers hoarsely.

“Was counting on it.”

He draws back, and our gazes lock, his pretty blue eyes searching mine. “Did you hear the news?” His choked words tremble over my lips, the emotion dusting over my skin.

My lips tighten, and my eyes well as I nod tightly. “Yeah, baby.”

He cradles my cheek—the injured one, now healed. “Justice.”

I send him a shaky smile. One he matches for a heartbeat, but then he buries his head in my neck. And inhales. Fingers diving into my hair and latching on tight.

I melt into the mattress as he just breathes me in. Like my scent calms him. Like my scent comforts him. I gently stroke the pads of my fingers up and down his back. I get it, because the scent of his oatmeal soap mixed with what is just the simple smell of Jackson is like a balm washing over me. Happy prickles light up my skin. Because in his mad dash to pack his things, he packed the soap I bought him. Brought it with him to keep at the clubhouse. My soap on his skin.

My fingers trail down to his ass and dig in as I grind upward. “I think we should get naked,” I murmur between kisses on his shoulder. “I need to make sure you still look the same as I remember. It’s been so long.”

His large frame shakes atop me, and when he pushes up on his palms, a smile is splitting his face. I push back a dark lock falling over his brow, but it just falls back down.

“I think that’s an excellent plan,” he says. “I expect you to be extra thorough. For verification purposes.”

I nod seriously as my hands drift under his shirt and start pulling it up. “I take this kind of evaluation seriously.”

He rises to his knees, then pulls his shirt over his head.

A gasp falls from me, and my hand shoots to his ribs, hovering just over his skin. Over the giant bruise marking his side.

My gaze flies to his. “Jackson.”

His smile turns lopsided. “The ground is kind of hard. Especially when you fall from the height I did.”

I study the large bruise splaying multiple ribs. I gently skate my fingers around it, avoiding directly touching it. “It was an incredible catch.”

“Yeah, it really fucking was.”

I snort, and my heart spins around in my chest at the adorable, proud grin on his face. My smile softens. I reach up and place my palm over his heart. “You played amazingly today.”

His grin turns a little shy, the cocky jock disappearing. “Thanks, babe.” He shuffles back and slides off the bed. “You need to get naked too. I think this will take some dual research.”

I sit up and quickly tug my shirt off. Jackson’s back is to me as he drops his boxers and joggers in one go. I drop my wide-leg sweats but hold off on my underwear. I toy with the waistband as I wait for Jackson to turn around. He goes to spin, but then pauses, his attention catching on something. I grin when I see what it is: the bottle of lube and towels I left on the nightstand.