Foul Ball

I'd almost said no to Jayce, mostly because his offer had caught me completely off guard. Very few guys had ever offered to walk me home before, especially not ones of Jayce Gregory's golden boy stature at this school. But why not? We were official now, and it didn't matter if suddenly I felt like a love-struck teenage girl in high school. I was an adult now, and I really liked Jayce. I mean, I really liked him.

"Do you live near here, too?" I asked.

"I do," Jayce said, and I was hyperaware of his shoulder bumping into mine as we walked, even though he held my hand anyway. I didn't even realize I'd been holding my breath until my eyes began to water. "I live over in the Rendezvous," he continued. "A cute little apartment all to myself." He turned his head slightly and winked, and the sudden smoldering fire between my legs got heavier, and my chest seemed to close up with something that felt completely new to me. "I've always wondered how nice it would be to not even have to leave inside to get to class in the morning," I mused, swallowing the urge I had to take Jayce's hand and slip it between my legs. Whoa, girl, keep it in your pants.

"Well, you know why they house athletes in the Rendezvous building, don't you?" "No, why?"

"Because we truly are all lazy sonsabitches," Jayce said, and I could hear that slight midwestern accent come out in his voice, which drove me even crazier for him. Idaho, maybe? Or Montana? I made a mental note to ask, trying to ignore the tiny voice in my head that insisted we should have known each other better before jumping into this.

"I don't believe that," I said. "Athletes can't be that lazy by default, can they?"

"Believe me," Jayce said. "We can. Basically, the university just hands athletes every single opportunity not to screw up," he continues. "God forbid us high achievers, and school stars are ever late for class. How would that look? Hell, we'll just throw 'em two halls down, so they have no choice but to come. It's not like you can just sneak out." He grunted in frustration, which made me laugh.

"They want you to think it's a perk," I said. "The nice little apartment right on campus, so easy that you can just roll out of bed and trod downstairs for an overpriced and badly tasting breakfast of too-ripe bananas and bran cereal. Perks of living in the same building, right? But really, it's how they spy on you to make sure you're doing no evil, like having sleepovers with girls and sneaking out for keg parties."

"You're not wrong," Jayce said. "Fortunately for them, I don't really have girls over for sleepovers. You, Macey Britton, are the only one I've ever considered asking."

"I find that exceptionally hard to believe," I said.

And then his body was closer to mine, closer than it had been before, and somewhere near the middle of my thigh, the soft sensation of Jayce's finger's feeling for my hand yanked me out of this blissful reality and into an overwhelmingly titillating cocoon of warmth. The lump in my throat grew uncomfortably as Jayce's hand met mine, and he curled his fingers around my own, securely taking my hand in his. I smiled, realizing now that my entire body was on fire with that red- hot iron burn, and in between my legs, I was wet. For him.

"Listen." As we stepped up to the door of my apartment, I stopped before entering and turned to Jayce, knowing damn well that if I didn't do this now, I might never have the confidence to do it again. "Listen," I said again. "You already met my roommate Kylie. She is not home tonight because every Wednesday and Thursday, she has to attend her People Watching Club, which, yes, is a thing where basically all they do is go sit as a group together somewhere on campus and observe people and take notes. She calls it art, but I'm pretty sure it's just weird."

"Macey," Jayce said, a smile tugging on one side of his face. "It was lovely walking you home."

I knew he was about to kiss me goodnight and leave, mostly because if I was coming to learn anything about Jayce Gregory, it's that he was a complete gentleman, and he wasn't about to invite himself in.

"Don't leave," I said, face-palming myself and then immediately regretting it. "None of that was the point. The point was...would you like to come in? Because I would like you to come in."