Page 42 of The Curveball

“I’m a hugger, Birdie. If I’m going to be your lover, you’ll need to know that.”

“My lover? So scandalous, Marks.”

I chuckle and jab my thumb over my shoulder. “I’m going to shower. You should lie back down for a bit, then at six—it’s date night.”

She blows out a breath. “I still think this is a bad idea. Your family is going to be upset when this ‘new relationship’ never gets off the ground.”

“Let me deal with my family. You deal with yours. Unless you need me to deal with yours, too, then I’d be happy to help.” I turn around and walk backward. “See you in a little bit, Birdie.”

She smiles, but it’s reserved.

The ten percent of not kissing Wren won out this time, but there is something stirring inside. A new desire, a new need telling me it’s only a matter of time.

No mistake, I’m going to get Wren Fox to trust me before this little game is over.

CHAPTER14

WREN

Why am I nervous?

We’re going to be eating pasta at the kitchen table, talking. It’s hardly a date. But here I am brushing my teeth for the second time, making sure I stay up on my pain medication, icing my head, and ensuring I’ll be as steady as possible on my feet tonight.

I ran out of energy shortly after the wonderfully disastrous kitchen confrontation. Took a nap, and once I woke, the warm, fluttery feeling took hold deep in my stomach. A rush of anticipation for an odd date night with the Kings catcher.

This is a stretch and won’t make our lie any more truthful. We’re going in knowing we aren’t really together, so a few dates won’t change a looming expiration date. I have a feeling Griffin knows this too, and he’s trying to ease my guilt about the whole thing.

It’s sort of sweet when I really think about it.

The trouble is, no matter how much I repeat this is a weird farce in my head, I still can’t shake the fluttery excitement the closer it gets to six o’clock.

I glance in the mirror and frown. My face is battered, and the knot on my head is like a big ugly wart, but I can kind of cover it with my hair. I’ve always thought my eyes looked like an owl’s. Too big for my face, but my mom liked to tell me they were thoughtful and wise looking. I look more like her than my father, which is a blessing. Not that he’s unattractive. In fact, I think a lot of women would say he’s very attractive, but I was raised by my mom.

Seems only fair I look like her.

I’m not exactly in date apparel. A hoodie with my boyfriend jeans. It’s the best I can do when my muscles protest moving too much. Griffin will survive through grunge-chic. I check that my neckline hides the scar just below my throat, add a touch of lip gloss, and turn off the bathroom light.

I’m halfway to the hallway door that separates our two sides of the house, when a knock comes from the opposite side of the house at my front door.

On the porch, Griffin meets me with three bags of different flavored licorice. I glance at the candy, then back to his face. Why does he have to be so sexy? His hair is a little wavy, like he used his hands to style it instead of a comb. His stubble is a perfect shadow across his sharp jaw, and I love the way his eyes are different shades of gold. Like true light and dark honey.

“Wow, Birdie,” he says, scanning my rough-looking getup. “You’re beautiful.”

Liar. But I know how to be semi-polite—depending on the day—and my mom would die if I argued such a compliment. “Thank you. At least you got me out of my yoga pants.”

“You pull those off perfectly,” he says. “I would not be complaining.”

A few more flowery words and I’m a goner. I use my thumb to point behind me. “I was going to cross over into your territory just now.”

“Absolutely not,” he says. “I asked you on a date. I will pick you up like a date.”

I can’t help it. The smiles are annoyingly contagious around the man. “Griffin, you are the charmer, aren’t you?”

“Yes.” He holds out the licorice.

“Don’t dates usually bring flowers?” I ask, taking the candy out of his hands.

“I think flowers are too generic, unless you love flowers, then I’ll flower you up. I like to think it means more if you bring something unique to the date. I can count on one hand the days I’ve seen you without one of these flavors of licorice.”