Page 11 of Jingle All the Plays

“Ya.” And then his hand reaches behind his neck and grips it. That movement pushes me over some line I wasn’t willing to cross earlier. His anguish hurts me. Even though he hurt me—badly—I’ve never wished anything bad to happen to him. I just…I just wanted me not to be hurting anymore.

“You really wanna finish this?” he finally says.

“I really do. And thanks for asking. That’s the first time you’ve asked me what I need.”

“Shit. Really? What else do you need? Anything. Let me do it for you.”

What do I need? I rub my hands up my bare arms.

“Are you still cold?” Cautionaly, he takes a step toward me, and when I don’t back away he rubs his hands up my arms.

This feels so good. So right. To have him attentive to my needs. To have him care.

I chance a peek up at him. We’re so close together now, and with my bottom half clothesless, I’m feeling the nearness pretty strongly in some areas.

When his tongue comes out to wet his bottom lip, I want to push up on my toes and kiss him. Despite everything.

I don’t even care anymore. I just want him. Like I always have.

But I can’t have him. There’s no way he has space in his fast-pace MLB life for me. I’m a nobody living in the slow lane in Lit Creek.

I drop my head and my eyes snag on the corner of the bed. My heart swims in the emotions threatening to drown it.

There is something I want.

I steal a glance up at him again. “There is something I’d really like right now.” And if I have to play up the cold card, I will. I don’t care anymore. “I’m still a bit cold.” Here goes nothing. “Will you cuddle me?”

It’s probably not physically possible, but I swear I can hear him swallow his Adam's apple.

“Sure. Of course.”

“Thanks, Bo. I wouldn’t ask…but…”

“Ya. It’s totally fine.” He pulls the covers back and slides in, offering me his arm.

And then we do something we’ve never done in all our years of friendship. Sure, we’ve hugged. I’ve even snuck a couple of snuggles on the couch during a scary movie while he was waiting for Blake to show up.

But this…no.

He clears his throat. “Turn on your side. I’ll…um…be the big spoon.”

Fuck. My heart melts at how adorably awkward he sounds. But I do as he says, nestling my back against his chest. When he reaches down to pull at the hem of his T-shirt to cover my thighs, he sucks in a sharp breath.

And I think he knows. I didn’t mean for it to happen. Who the fuck am I kidding? I totally meant for it to happen.

“Maisy?” His voice sounds like he’s talking after chugging a bottle of sand.

“Mhmm?”

“Are you not wearing panties, baby?”

My entire body lights up at his words. At the tone. At the raw hunger in his voice. This is what I want from him.

All.

The.

Time.