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by Shae Scott


  "Okay," I breathed as my mind wrapped around his words, putting them away safely so I could replay them later in vivid detail.

  "Does that work for you?" he asked. His stare left my breathing a little shallow.

  "I think . . . I think I need to be really honest with you," I started. I watched as he took a deep steadying breath, bracing himself for what I would say next. That made me smile. I liked the idea that he felt a little bit nervous. Because I was nervous.

  "I know I was okay with being casual back in San Francisco. It was fun and it was exciting, and I knew what I was in for, for the most part. But this is me in real life. And I know that if we continue down this road that I'm going to have real feelings for you. I already do. I'm going to get attached. So if you're looking for something casual, a girl that you can call periodically for a random hook up, I don't think I'm up for it. So, if that's the case, I get it. I'll still be really glad that you showed up at my door and that we had this night, but I won't -- I can't--." I started to stumble over my words, not sure how to say what I was feeling.

  I watched as the smile overtook his face and he leaned towards me, his hands leaving mine as he cupped my face, his long fingers brushing across my cheeks.

  "Quinn," he said his voice silencing my speech for good. "I don't want to do random with you."

  "You don't?" I asked.

  "No," he smiled, his body closing the small space between us, his mouth brushing against mine.

  "Good."

  "So, it’s settled, I’m going to stay. And I'm going to wake up beside you in the morning and you’re going to let me go watch baseball with you and your dad,” he said. I smiled, nodding. I liked the idea of taking him with me tomorrow. “But, right now, I'm going to make you come with my mouth," he smiled as he pushed me down to my back.

  "Okay," I said with a giggle, a giggle that quickly vanished into a sigh as his warm mouth began to kiss its way down my skin.

  DAYLIGHT CAME AND with it, my new reality with Keaton finally started to sink in. It's funny how morning can give things a whole new perspective. It felt like a new beginning, with him still wrapped up in my sheets, staring at me with sleepy eyes and a boyish smile. He was here, in my bed, in my world and the smile that found my lips threatened to stick around permanently.

  "Ready for game day?" I asked him as I snuggled against his warm body. He instantly tucked me in closer to his side.

  "Ready to spend the day with you. I've missed you. I don't do well with the missing thing," he said. I smiled bigger.

  "Well, I know you are a Yankee's fan, but today you are Royal blue," I teased, running my fingers along his naked torso.

  "You think your dad will like me?" he asked quietly.

  "Depends on if you tell him you're a Yankee's fan," I teased. He laughed and the vibrations echoed in my ear.

  "I'll remember that," he said.

  I SHOWERED WHILE Keaton left to grab some clothes from his hotel. Images of the night before played in my mind on a highlight reel, like a romantic movie trailer. I was back to living someone else's life, sliding into the skin of the other version of me.

  When I was around Keaton I felt a fire inside. It made me feel alive and daring. It was new, but it was empowering. It was like that shy girl, the careful one who had always taken a back seat or questioned every choice from the sidelines was suddenly willing to step forward and be heard. It wasn’t that he made me different. It wasn’t even that he gave me courage. It was something more than that, something unspoken, natural, effortless. It opened me up to possibility. I hadn’t even realized it until he’d come back.

  We weren’t taking a normal path. We weren’t a typical story. But I was starting to realize that I liked it, because it was ours.

  I was nervous about introducing him to my family. I’d never told them about meeting him, so I knew they'd be shocked when I suddenly brought him home out of the blue.

  I heard a soft tap on the bathroom door as it opened. "I'm back and I brought breakfast. Need some company?" Keaton asked.

  "You could join me, but I'm pretty sure neither of us will make the game if you do. I mean, I'm fine with missing it, but if you want my dad to like you, you won't come between him and his Royals," I pointed out.

  He seemed to think about it before moving the shower curtain. "Shit, I really wanted him to like me, but now I'm thinking I should just risk it." He reached his hand into the shower and tugged my arm so that I was closer to the edge. "Kiss me," he demanded. I laughed and obliged his request. How could I not? Kissing him was heaven.

  I pulled back and pointed to the door. "That's enough; now go eat your breakfast. I'll be out in a minute. Make me some coffee," I suggested.

  "Only if you tip the barista," he smiled, walking backwards to the door.

  "We'll see how good the coffee is."

  "Oh, it will be good. Best damn coffee you've ever had," he shot back playfully. I laughed and shut the curtain.

  I finished washing my hair and shaving my legs. With Keaton here I put a little more effort into my morning routine. I was looking forward to him touching me later. I smiled at the thought. Keaton Harris was in my kitchen. It still took me by surprise. I'd never thought he would end up on my doorstep. Ever. But the moment I saw him, it was like all of the doubts I'd been wrestling with, had disappeared.

  The sight of him standing there in the pouring rain was burned into my memory. I've never seen a rain-soaked man look so devastatingly handsome. Last night had been a turning point. Not just for us, but for me. Keaton made me want to be brave; he made me want to jump in without trying to reason it out. Maybe it was dangerous and reckless, but I wanted to be dangerous and reckless with him. I wanted to live on the edge. I wanted to jump right over it.

  I knew I was getting ahead of myself. The logical part of my brain was still there to warn me to slow down, to take it one day at a time, but excitement can drown out the voice of reason. And for once, I was glad that it could. Today I was taking Keaton to meet my family, sharing a part of me with him and I was excited to do it.

  When I made it out to the kitchen Keaton was sitting at the bar sipping coffee and eating a bagel. He was wearing a pair of long white cargo shorts, a blue Royals jersey and a baseball cap. I smiled wide as I took him in from head to toe. He looked good in blue.

  "Did you rob a sporting goods store?" I asked stepping up and kissing his cheek. He pulled me back when I started to step away and kissed me properly. I could taste the cream cheese on his tongue.

  "I couldn't show up without the proper attire," he scoffed.

  "Good call," I smiled pulling out a bagel from the bag.

  "I left you a matching one on the bed. I got one for your dad too," he smiled, proud of himself.

  "You did all of that this morning?" I asked.

  He shrugged, "I told you I needed to go and get some clothes."

  "Pulling out all the stops, huh?" I teased.

  "I don't do anything halfway," he threw me a smirk and a suggestive glance and while I knew he was teasing me, it still sent a wave of flutters through my stomach and a heat across my skin. I'm pretty sure I blushed a little too, just from the memories that look brought back.

  "You are trouble," I pointed out. He smiled, satisfied.

  "I am. But a little bit of trouble is good for you, don't you think?"

  "We'll see. I'll get back to you," I smiled. He leaned towards my chair and kissed the corner of my mouth.

  "I'll wait," he said quietly.

  His voice alone was enough to do me in. "Coffee?" he asked, his mouth near my ear. He was trying to get a reaction out of me. I knew it. And while I refused to give him one out right, I knew he saw straight through me. He clearly liked to see me fidget. He laughed quietly and moved to the coffeepot. It allowed me enough time to slow my heartbeat and take a deep breath away from the intoxicating scent of his cologne.

  When he returned with my mug I had calmed myself down more or less. He gave me a wink and returned to his chair
to finish his breakfast. I stole a glance over at him, taking in the sharp line of his jaw and the way it was shadowed with a hint of stubble. I loved the look on him just like I loved the way it felt against my cheek and against my thighs.

  And so much for calm and collected.

  "So tell me more about your dad," Keaton said, pulling me away from the fantasies that had started playing in my head. "You told me he always wanted a boy and the games were always your thing." I liked that he remembered that story.

  "My dad is great. We're really close. He is a contractor, so he's always in the garage building things. I think when he retires he'll end up selling wooden rocking chairs and coffee tables to the shops in town. He loves it. He calls it a hobby, but he is really good at it. He made the coffee table in the living room actually," I said. I was proud of my dad. He was really talented.

  I didn't have those kinds of skills. I wasn't crafty at all. I wanted to be, but the most I'd ever managed was a scrapbook of my senior year. Only, I'd never kept it up and by the time winter formal came along my pages were less craft and more paste. I just didn't have the patience for it. Mom would just laugh at me when I started some new craft project. She knew I was most likely going to give it up halfway in and just go read. Reading I was good at. Glitter, glue, and I never really saw eye to eye.

  "That's impressive," Keaton said, eying the table.

  "I'm proud of him. When I was growing up I'd get so fascinated watching him. He put a chair out there and I'd take my book out and read while he worked. I'd sit out there with him for hours. I don't know, it was kind of special," I admitted.

  Keaton smiled at me and I thought maybe he wanted to make fun of me for being a daddy's girl. "What?" I asked.

  "Nothing. I just like this side of you. I like that you are close to your family and the way your eyes smile when you talk about them. It's very genuine," he said.

  I shrugged, not sure what to say, so I changed the subject instead.

  "We should probably get going," I said jumping down from my stool. I still needed to get dressed in my new jersey.

  "Wait, come here," he said, stopping me and pulling me towards him. I stood between his knees, the heat of him surrounding me. He ran his hand gently across my cheek and along my jaw. "Thank you for letting me come with you today," he said.

  I smiled, "It will be fun."

  He nodded and his hands moved to rest on my hips. I shifted under his gaze, still serious. "Thank you for letting me back in your life." It was quiet; if I weren't so close I might have questioned the words I'd heard. I swallowed hard, unable to come up with anything to say. So I kissed him instead and when his arms wrapped around me and held me tightly against his body I knew that no words were needed.

  WE PULLED UP to the house and before we could even make it to the front door it was flung open and my parents were standing there; Dad excited and ready for the game and Mom because she couldn't wait to get a look at Keaton. And here I thought calling them on the way to warn them would be a good idea. I saw the satisfied smile on her face as she took him in, laughing at her not so subtle wink that said she approved.

  "Quinny," Dad smiled meeting us on the sidewalk and wrapping me up in a hug.

  "Hi, Dad," I smiled. I gave Mom a hug, too, before introducing them to a slightly nervous Keaton. He didn't really show any outward signs of nerves, but I noticed the change, the slight fidget as he leaned from foot to foot.

  "Guys, this is Keaton," I said. He shook my dad's hand and gave my mom one of his charming smiles as she pulled him into an unexpected hug.

  "Keaton, these are my parents, Wayne and Karen. Karen is the one who doesn't know the appropriate amount of time that an introductory hug should last," I teased. Mom stepped back and laughed at my jab.

  "It's very nice to meet you, Keaton. So, I hear you are going to brave the game with these two?" Mom asked.

  "That's the plan," Keaton smiled.

  "I sure do like those jerseys," Dad said, eying the new gear that Keaton had found.

  "Yeah?" I asked turning around and showing off. "I think he might have snagged one for you too." I watched as Dad’s eyes went wide as Keaton handed him a bag.

  "I hear you're a Brett fan?" Keaton asked as he pulled out the number five jersey of Hall of Famer George Brett. I thought he might give Keaton one of those inappropriate long hugs. Dad loved it.

  "Well, you didn't have to do that. But I sure do love it. Thank you," he smiled.

  "I know you aren't going to the game with us, Karen, but I grabbed you one too," Keaton said and I watched my mother swoon in spite of herself. This man could take anyone down.

  "Well aren't you sweet? Now ya’ll come inside. Wayne will need to change and I want to talk for a few minutes before you leave," Mom said as she ushered us towards the front door. Dad was still admiring the jersey in his hands. You'd have thought that it had actually been taken straight from George Brett's closet the way he was examining it.

  "I was hoping that maybe after the game tonight you'd come back over and we could have dinner together," Mom suggested as we filed into the living room.

  "Mom, you don't have to make dinner," I said.

  "Nonsense. I want to. I've missed seeing you and I really want to get to know your friend," she said. I rolled my eyes at the way she said friend, like she was in on my secret. Granted, I wasn't sure what label to put on Keaton, but I was with her on the fact that friend really didn't seem to cut it anymore.

  Keaton beamed at the attention and slid his arm around me casually. "I think dinner would be great," he said, making the decision for us. I guess we were going to jump right in. Welcome to the family, Keaton Harris.

  The drive to the game was full of Dad telling stories about how he'd dragged me around to games as a kid and how when we'd watch the games on TV I'd always sneak read while quietly chanting under my breath.

  "What do you mean quietly chanting?" Keaton asked amused. He was sitting in the front seat of my dad's SUV and so I had no choice but to listen to them carry on about me as if I weren’t even there.

  "Well, Quinn likes to pretend that she has the ability to affect the game by focusing in on what she wants to happen," Dad started.

  "I’m not pretending. At this point it’s just fact. It's been proven time and time again," I pointed out loudly from the backseat.

  "For instance," Dad continued, "If we're up to bat she quietly repeats the word home over and over. If we are in the outfield she goes with strike or out. I don't even think she realizes that she's doing it most of the time," he laughed.

  "You can laugh at me all you want, old man, but I didn't see you complaining when we won the pennant," I pointed out. Dad's eyes met mine in the rearview and they danced with happy energy.

  "You're right, Pumpkin, it was all you. Thank you for that," he said. Keaton laughed and turned back to look at me.

  "That's some pretty powerful chanting you have going on," he smiled.

  I shrugged, "I choose to use my powers for good."

  We made our way into the crowded parking lot of Kauffman Stadium. I had spent many summers on this asphalt, playing games or cooking out before a game. It felt like home and was easily the best part of summer for me. I loved the atmosphere and the excitement that floated in the air. Even if the team was having an off year, and let's face it there were some off years, the fans were still excited. It never seemed to die down.

  "I'll go grab the tickets," Keaton offered as we neared the ticket booth. Dad started to protest, but Keaton had already walked away getting lost in a sea of blue.

  "I like him," Dad offered.

  "You just met him," I teased.

  "I know. But he has a good feel about him," he said.

  "Yeah," I agreed shyly. I didn't bring guys home often. None of them really seemed worthy of the effort, but having Keaton here with me today made me feel good all over. He fit naturally, something that kept surprising me.

  Keaton walked up to us a few minutes later, his smile barely c
ontained as he handed us each a ticket. I glanced down, my eyes growing large. I glanced over at my dad who was wearing the same shocked expression and then over at Keaton who simply shrugged.

  "Son, these are crown seats at home plate," Dad said, his voice low as if he wasn't sure he was reading the ticket correctly.

  "Is that okay?" Keaton asked, suddenly questioning his decision to go all out and buy the best seats in the stadium.

  "Hell yes it's okay. Hot damn," Dad called out and it made me laugh to see his instant joy. I saw Keaton relax a little as dad slapped him on the back and stared at his ticket, clutching it tightly in his hand. I felt my heart constrict, watching it, because I knew that no matter what he would remember this game for a very long time.

  Dad was practically running towards the line at this point, anxious to get to his padded seat and the free beer provided in the lap of luxury. I slid my hand into Keaton's as we followed behind him. "Thank you. That was insanely generous and incredibly kind," I said looking up at him. His eyes sparkled and he leaned in to kiss my forehead.

  "You're welcome. I want this day to be special. I like making memories with you," he said. I felt my skin tingle as his words hit that part of my heart where fairytale wishes are born. He kept this up and I was going to be shopping for glass slippers.

  I'd been to a lot of baseball games growing up, but as we reached our seats even I was staring at the field open mouthed and in awe. "Wow," I muttered half to myself as we watched the warm ups taking place. They were so close.

  "I did good?" Keaton's voice leaned in against my ear. I turned to him and smiled, giving him a kiss.

  "You did amazing," I said. The smile that lit his face was more than I could have ever asked for. The shy side of him, looking for approval grabbed my heart.

  The day had turned out amazing. Dad and I taught Keaton all of the cheers and soon he was starting the chant that echoed through the stadium. I don't think Dad could have been more proud if he had actually been a player on the field. The fact that we walked away with a win capped it off to perfection.

 

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