Page 44 of Taking the Pitch
She eyes my hand before extending her own, connecting with mine. A tingle shoots up my arm as her cold hand connects with my warm one and her eyes snap to mine.
She feels it too.
“Friends,” she whispers, shaking my hand slightly. Not uttering a word about what I know we both just felt.
“Friends,” I repeat.
We stare at each other for a few heartbeats before she pulls her hand back and tucks it inside the sleeve of the hoodie I gave her. Seeing her in my hoodie when I walked into her apartment did things to me that had me reciting baseball stats in my head to calm myself down. I’ve never asked a woman to wear my jersey, but I hope one day that will change.
Collecting our plates, I watch as she heads to the kitchen and dumps them into the sink. I make a mental note to wash them before I leave. Moving to the fridge, she pulls open the freezer and extracts another ice pack. “Do you need anything while I’m up?”
I shake my head. “I’m good. Do you still have a migraine?”
“Unfortunately,” she mutters, coming back to her spot on the couch while she wraps a towel around the ice pack and places it behind her neck. “The pain is better than earlier, but it’s still there.” She lets out a heavy sigh. “Depending on how bad they are and what triggered them, they can come and go for a few days.”
“What triggered this one?”
“Lack of sleep, too much coffee and not enough water, stress…honestly a combination of things,” she says, hitting the play button.
“Is there anything I can do?” I ask, hating that she’s still suffering, even though she’s trying not to let on that she is.
Amelia rolls her head to the side and gives me a small smile. “No, I’ll use my neck massager after I take Bruno out one more time to help ease the knot I have. That should help.”
“I can rub your shoulders.” The words leave my mouth before I realize what I’m saying. “I mean…if you want? I’ve been told I have great hands.” I close my eyes. “Not like that. I mean, like that too.”Shut up.“But that’s not how I’m offering to use them.” Scrubbing a hand down my face. I look to see Amelia’s shoulders shaking and her face buried in my hoodie.
I stand. “You know what? I’m just going to show myself out,” I say, walking past her. A hand shoots out and grabs my arm and I look down to see Amelia’s face contorted in a laugh, eyes shiny from tears.
“No, please,” she says, wiping her eyes. “Stay. That was truly entertaining.”
“I think I’d rather go be awkward in the comfort of my own home.”
“That was impressive,” she says, letting go of my wrist and patting the couch. “But please, don’t feel like you can’t be yourself around me. That’s what friends do, right? Let theirguard down around their friends. Shed the facade of having to be perfect all the time?”
“Okay, fine. I’ll stay,” I tell her, but point a finger at her. “Ifyou let me rub your shoulders. I guarantee I can do a better job than a machine.”
She purses her lips, fighting a laugh, but doesn't do a good job holding off her laugh as one bubbles past her lips.
“Get your mind out of the gutter,Miss Morgan.”
She snorts. “Have you readanyof my books? My brainlivesin the gutter.” She gives me a wicked smirk. “Buckle up Davis. This friendship is going to be a hell of a ride.”
Something tells me I’ll enjoy every second of it.
“Fucking Roy,” Amelia mutters to the T.V. from her spot on the floor in front of me where I’m currently rubbing out a series of gnarly knots from her shoulders and neck. I don’t know how she functions with these. I’d be crying like a baby. In fact, Ididcry like a baby the last time one of the team’s massage therapists got their hands on me.
“How do you even function with this many knots?”
She shrugs, tracing her finger from Bruno’s nose to the top of his head and back down. He came over and plopped down next to her as soon as she sat on the floor, laying his head in her lap. “I guess I just adapted after a while. I used to get massages every other week, but when my massage therapist moved. I just quit going. It gave me too much anxiety to find a new one.”
Running my thumbs up her neck and digging into the base of her skull, Amelia lets out a long moan, not helping the semiI’m sporting from listening to her moan off and on for the past fifteen minutes. I’m running out of stats to recite.
“Have you ever tried booking a group massage with Charlie and Hazel? It might help ease the anxiety of going for the first couple of times?” I suggest.
“We actually did once, but Charlie is so crazy busy most of the time our schedules usually don’t align with hers or what the spas had available. Hazel and I don’t want to go without her and make her feel left out.”
I make another pass with my thumbs, then run my fingers over the back of her skull, entangling my fingers in her hair as I increase the pressure.
“Oh, fuck,” she whispers, melting into my hands.
