Page 219 of The Path to Loving Him
Gabby:Okay . . . well, Nathan texted me last night.
Bower:WHAT?
Gabby:It wasn’t the first time. He’s texted me a few times, but more came through when Bennett was called up. I’ve just ignored them for obvious reasons. Well, he didn’t like that and thought it was me snubbing him. He proceeded to say some awful things. But I don’t want to get into that. I’m moving past his words and focusing on what Ryland said to me last night and the love he showed me.
Bower:Okay, let me take a few deep breaths for a second. Deep breaths. In and out. Okay, settled. Not happy to hear Nathan texted you, but happy that Ryland was there for you.
Gabby:He was, Bower. And it just solidifies he’s the one. I’m all in.
Bower:Well, I’m glad you’re seeing it, because I saw it at the game. You are made for each other.
Gabby:We are.
Bower:Can I just ask one thing about Nathan?
Gabby:Yes.
Bower:Did you at least block his number?
Gabby:Yes. Ryland did it for me last night.
Bower:Good, because you don’t need that toxic behavior back in your life.
Gabby:Ryland said the same thing.
Bower:He’s a smart one.
Gabby:Very smart. And handsome and loving and so sexy in a baseball hat, with the best forearms ever. And he’s sweet and cares about his niece, and . . . I love him so much.
Bower:Wow, way to make a girl incredibly jealous. If I didn’t love you myself, I might hate you LOL.
Gabby:I wouldn’t even be mad at you. I realize how annoying I seem.
Bower:Not annoying. You’re just in love, and that’s something to be celebrated.
Gabby:Well . . . we celebrated that love last night.
Bower:Hey-o! Tell me more about that. Where did you do it? Did he spank you? Use another toy? Did he call you dirty things while he thrust into you? Possibly choke you?
Gabby:You really need to put those books down.
Bower:NEVER!
“Come on, come on,” I say, hands clutched, watching the game play out in front of me. The Bombers are down by two. It’s the bottom of the ninth, they have two outs, and Bennett is on second with the tying run at the plate.
They must win this game to head to the wild card game. If they don’t, the season’s over.
Ryland rubs his hand over my thigh on the edge of the couch with me while Mac is already upstairs, asleep.
“Just a little poke somewhere. Bennett’s fast. We could score,” I say as the pitch is thrown, and it’s a ball.
“Two and two,” Ryland says. “He has to protect.”
Bennett takes a big lead off second. No one’s covering the bag as the other team doesn’t seem to care, so on the next pitch, Bennett takes off toward third, and I hold my breath as the pitch is called a ball, and Bennett is called safe at third after the throw.
I leap off the sofa and silently cheer, not wanting to wake Mac. Ryland joins me in standing, and he puts his arm around me.
“Fuck, that was close. Too close to take as a ball.”
