Player (A Secret Baby Sports Romance)(233)

“Gee, thanks,” She says dryly; “Dick.”

“Cop.”

“Criminal.”

I snort out a laugh just as she cracks up at the same time, and I clink my bottle against hers, as if toasting to the break in tension; “You know, princess, in another life you and I might actually be friends.”

“That’s a TV sitcom script just waiting to happen,” She says, laughing; “We’re like those two characters from The Breakfast Club.”

I raise a brow at her; “The what?”

“You know, the eighties movie about detention? You’re the guy with the jean jacket and the earring.”

“Earring?”

“Yeah! You know, the badass. And I’m Molly whatever-her-name-is.”

I grin and shake my head; “You watch some weird fucking movies in the States, princess.”

“Well, you’re missing out.”

I chuckle and take another swig of my beer as the sun starts to dip into the ocean. “So how do I rank, as first assignments go?” I say, flashing her a grin.

“Definitely could be worse.”

I laugh.

“Hey, just being honest,” She says arching her eyebrows.

The sun grows dimmer and darker as it dips into the horizon, and I let my eyes sag as I lean into the wall behind me. A yawn creeps from her lips as she stretches her legs out; “We should head in.”

I shrug; “I’m good out here.” I roll my eyes as she shoots me a quick look; “Oh, relax, hot-stuff; I’m too fucking tired to start jumping balconies and making a run for it.” She frowns, her cheeks growing pink as if embarrassed that I busted her doubting me again; “Merde, how many times does a guy have to save your life for you to try trusting him for a second?”

“That’s not-” She stops and purses her lips and shakes her head; “Fair enough.”

“Look, we’ll go inside. But let’s share one more and just relax a little longer, alright?”

“Just a little longer.” She says, stretching; her adorable face scrunching up as she yawns.

“Cheers, princess,” I say, clinking her beer again; “Hell of a first day.”





13





Javier




There's the smell of salt brine and ocean that first wakes me up, and for a moment, I'm back home again; back in both of them. For a moment, I'm a little boy again back at Mama's house in Valencia, before the memory changes and I’m in Venezuela with my abuela. In Spain, Mama is waking me up and making me get to school; in Venezuela, I’m waking up with the sun to go help my abuelo, my grandfather, up in the fields.

I stir, wanting just one more minute; one more minute before the sun's brightness through my eyelids is too much to ignore. I just want one more moment with my arms around her shoulders and her head nestled in against my shoulder.

Wait, what?

I wake with a start, blinking in the morning light before I turn and look down to see what can only be described as an angel in my arms.

Apparently, we've fallen asleep outside on the balcony, and for a moment, I'm really just floored by the bizarre feelings of peace and comfort I have at that very moment. She's sleeping quietly, her face still and her eyelids barely moving. The smallest hint of a smile plays across her face, burrowed against my chest and curled against me. Her breath comes evenly against my skin, and with my arms around her, I realize I've never felt more protective of something in all my entire life.

Yikes, get it together, pal.

I blink away sleep and let my arm trail down her back, stroking her hair while I study this angelic creature in my arms. The sun glows off her blonde hair, and I never want this singular moment to end, no matter how fucking bizarre that is for me.

She stirs though, eventually, and I know that this one single moment - like all moments - is going to end. Her eyes open, blinking before she takes in her surroundings and looks up at me. She sits up with a start, her face looking guilty and as confused as mine just did as she jumps to awareness quicker than I'm sure she normally would. She shoots me an accusing and furtive glance out of the corner of her eyes as she quickly scoots a few inches away from me, distancing herself physically from me but also from that one perfect moment.

“Good morning.” I smirk at her, watching her blush as she quickly crosses her arms over her chest, clearing her throat and collecting herself as she looks around our little balcony.

“Morning” She mumbles, still not meeting my eyes, which both amuses me considering how flustered she is, but also bugs me; like I'm some sort of leper she can't even be near.

Whatever.

“Ok, we need to collect ourselves,” She glances at my bare torso and back at her own bikini-clad chest and blushes as her arms tighten across her body; “We need clothes.”