Page 109 of Home Runner
“Really? Dropping a line on me? In a closet full of towels and cleaning detergents? I must say, I’m unimpressed with your new moves. Thought they would have been a bit better with how often you have a new girl on your arm.”
His eyebrows raise as he takes another step. “Keeping tabs on me? Aw, you shouldn’t have.”
“I wasn’t,” I say defensively. “If you haven’t noticed, you work with my brother, and it’s kinda hard to scrub your face off everyTV screen I pass by. Trust me, I’ve asked around. Would cost a pretty penny.”
I swear his lip twitches before he crosses his arms over his chest. “Let’s get back to the part where we get to the bottom of what happened between the two of us so we can both move on.” He takes one more step, and this time, I take one back.
“Moving on didn’t seem to be a problem for you then, so why should it be now?” My words come out harsh, and I wish it didn’t make it seem like I still cared. Because I don’t. Obviously.
His eyes zero in on mine, and now he’s closing the distance between us. He doesn’t stop until my back hits the towel-stacked shelves, his hands coming to rest on either side of my head on the shelf above me.
“You know what, Valentina? I’ve had a long time to think about you—I mean us and your little disappearing act. And seeing you at your brother’s birthday party, that anger… disgust… yeah, that didn’t exactly come from nowhere, did it?” His eyes sear into mine, searching for answers he should already know. “I’m guessing, somewhere along the line, you and I got something very, very wrong. And I say we should have a sit-down and put it all on the table and clear up this decade-old misunderstanding. What do you say?” He aims his wicked smile my way, the one he must use on countless unsuspecting women. The one he used on me before I knew better.
And even though I’m certain his cologne is working some weird spell on me, I have enough wits about myself to put him back in his place, where he belongs.
“Hmm, mansplaining my own lived experiences.” I smile. “That’s a good one, Middlebrooks. But I have a job to do, and beyond their better judgment, you have fans waiting for a second of your attention. So I’ll tell you how this,” I try to point back and forth within the minuscule space he’s left between us, “is goingto go. I’m going to do my job and you’re going to stay out of my way.”
“Is that so?” he challenges.
“Yep. But—” I sigh dramatically.
“What is it?” he asks far too eagerly.
“I am going to have to ask you for one pesky little favor.” I pout as I bring my hands up and start playing with the buttons of his jersey.
He goes rigid beneath my touch. “What’s that?” He clears his throat.
I smile deviously as I grab a strong hold on his jersey. “Stop. Thinking. About. Me.”
I didn’t mean to pull him closer as I spoke each word.
Didn’t mean to lift up higher on my tiptoes, bringing our lips dangerously close.
But as Ace’s chest vibrates with a low growl, his nose brushing against mine, I know he means the next two words he says with every fiber of his being.
“You. First.”
THE END
