I wait, feeling the water strike my back, but she stays quiet. “And that is?”

  “Your pal, Dennis,” she begins, pushing off the door and taking a few steps closer. “What’s his story?”

  “I don’t—” Daisy’s mouth envelopes me again and I laugh, submerged in that warm paradise between her lips. “What do you mean?”

  “Any idea what he does during the off-season?”

  “I, uh—” I grit my teeth at the sudden, fierce suction. “School, I guess.”

  “What are his plans for after graduation?”

  “I don’t—”

  “Does he have a girlfriend?” she asks. “Any ties to speak of?”

  I wrap my fingers in Daisy’s hair. “You’d have to ask him, Trisha.”

  “I suppose I shall.” Her eyes drop again, taking a long look at my exposed arm. “Anyway, I’ll see you at the game.”

  “Okay. Bye, Trisha.”

  I wait with patient, steady breaths, listening closely for the door to latch closed behind her. When it finally does, I whip my head back into the shower and stare down at Daisy’s wide grin.

  “You’re a bad girl,” I scold her.

  Her nose curls upward as she laughs at me. “A little.”

  I bend down and pick her up off the floor. “A very bad girl.”

  She cackles as I pin her to the wall, and she wraps her legs around my waist. “Don’t pretend like you don’t love it.”

  “Not as much as I’ll love this.”

  I grind into her, feeling her pussy stretch for me as she digs her claws into my back. She is so slick, so warm. My brain turns to dust again and all I can do is pound her over and over again in my arms.

  She purrs in my ears, cheering me on. “You going to hit a home run for me today?”

  “Yes.”

  “You going to hit two for me?”

  I chuckle, feeling my loins tighten and throb. “How about I hit three?”

  “Make it four.” She bites my earlobe. “And make sure you get a double play, too.”

  “A double play?” I pause my thrust. “I can’t promise that.”

  “Oh, come on,” she teases between rapid breaths. “You can do it — especially after this. Sex is totally a performance enhancer.”

  I laugh. “That’s a myth.”

  “No, I’ve seen it. John and Rose,” she says. “Bearhawks were losing, so he railed her during halftime.”

  “And?”

  “And they won.”

  “No shit?”

  She bites her lip. “Get a double play and I’ll come all over this big dick.”

  “You will anyway.”

  I grind her deeper and harder again, watching the stars in her eyes as she responds the way I want her to. I feel her surging inside, her body twitching wildly with orgasm. It’s changed — not a lot — but I’ve seen enough of her over the past few weeks to notice the way this baby is taking over her body.

  I honestly can’t get enough of it.

  Her hips. Her ass. Her breasts.

  She drives me so fucking—

  One last thrust is all it takes. I come inside of her, not afraid to go deep. It’s freeing and crazy and absolutely sexy, especially how she quivers with delight as I do it, almost as if the very feeling of it gives her another light climax.

  I kiss her hard, pulling her bottom lip between my teeth as I listen to those soft moans on her breath. She releases her legs and I slide back from the wall to let her down.

  “Four home runs and a double play?” I ask again.

  Daisy smiles.

  “Hunter, I gotta know.” Trisha glances at me over her sunglasses. “How the hell are you able to crack so many home runs every game?”

  I shake my head, stealing one quick glance at Daisy as I stretch my arm over my chest. “Well, it’s not easy. I’ll tell you that much.”

  Daisy takes a few steps back and raises the camera to get a shot of the team around the dugout. She pretends not to listen to us, but I catch the subtle twitch of her ear as she waits for my answers to Trisha’s questions.

  “You’re not doping, are you?” Trisha asks.

  I scoff. “Of course not.”

  She eyes me for a moment. “Just checking.”

  “I don’t blame you for asking, though,” I add. “You wouldn’t be much of a journalist if you didn’t.”

  “Precisely.” She slides her phone into her back pocket. “I probably shouldn’t be telling you this, Hunter, but there are some very important people in the crowd today.”

  “Like who?” I ask, genuinely interested.

  “Starts with an S.” She smirks. “Ends with an S.”

  “Scouts.”

  “Good boy.”

  “There’s always a scout,” I say. “College ball is a constant tryout.”

  “Sure, but…” She scans the stadium. “These scouts are the ones you really, really want to impress.”

  I look at her, reminded that I’m not chatting with just anyone. This is Trisha Wells. If she says I need to play my best, then I need to play my best.

  “You’re serious,” I say.

  “If you’ve got some trick up your sleeve, today’s the day to show it off,” she replies. “You know, something more than your already impressive talent. It might mean the difference between getting that call and… not.”

  Daisy takes a photo of me. I turn toward the sound. Her gaze finds mine for a split second before she’s back doing what she does best, snapping a few more photos of the team and the stands.

  I’m a little curious myself what my face looks like right now.

  It’s been a minute since I’ve thought about scouts. That’s understandable — given recent events taking up most of my headspace — but it’s always in the back of my mind.

  I take a breath to calm my nerves. I’ve had adrenaline pumping through me since that extra-long shower this morning. Maybe Daisy was right about that performance enhancer.

  Fuck, I hope so.

  Daisy reaches for her phone in her pocket and turns away as she answers it. Her voice carries on the breeze, just barely reaching me over the growing hum of the crowd.

  Trisha rolls her eyes. “I swear that girl can’t focus for more than ten minutes.”

  “She’s doing a great job,” I say. “Probably just her sister.”

  She gives an indifferent nod. “So—”

  “Sorry, Trish, I gotta boot ya from the dugout,” Coach Carl says. “Game’s starting.”

  The team groans, disappointed to lose their favorite cheerleader.

  “It’s okay, boys!” she says, licking her lips. “I’ll see you after the game.”

  She blows us a kiss before climbing up the stairs to find her seat.

  I sit down on the bench and take a deep, calming breath as I stare out across the open diamond ahead.

  Scouts.

  Better make today count.

  My ears twitch, somehow detecting Daisy’s voice nearby. I can’t help but turn and look for her.

  “You’re in love with her.”

  I furrow my brow at Dennis sitting on the bench beside me. “Trisha?”

  “Do I look like I’m talking about Trisha?” he asks, tilting his head. “Daisy. I’m talking about Daisy.”

  “I’m not in love with her,” I say. “I’m in lust, maybe.”

  He laughs. “What’s the difference?”

  “It’s not every day a beautiful woman lets me have constant unprotected sex with her.”

  “Sounds like love to me.”

  “She’s like a cat in heat and the only thing that will satisfy her is my dick.”

  “Are you complaining?”

  “Nope.”

  “So, what’s not to love?”

  “Nothing. She’s smart, but not snooty about it. She makes me laugh. She loves baseball — probably knows more about it than I do.”

  “Is she high maintenance?” he asks. “Hard to live with?”

  “No, she’s great.”

  “Then, what’s wrong?”

  I force a shrug. “I don’t know. I’m just… taking my time figuring that part out.”

  “Well, you should probably start figuring it out because I guarantee you, she has.”

  “Oh, yeah?”

  He nods. “Definitely.”

  “Well, I think you should worry about your own problems,” I tease. “What’s the deal with you and Trisha?”

  “I do not know what you’re talking about.”

  I chuckle. “One day, she’s using your shoulder as a pillow, and the next, she’s barging into my shower and asking me your story.”

  Dennis flashes a smug grin. “She did, did she?”

  “What’d you do?”

  “Nothing,” he says, his lips continually curling. “I went down on her a little bit.”

  “Of course you did.”

  “Hey, you wanted me to distract her. I’m distracting her. Wait…” He looks at me. “She barged into your shower?”

  “She barged into my shower.”

  “What’d she see?”

  I don’t answer.

  “Oh, come on,” he says. “What’d she see?”

  I sit and smile.

  “Dammit. Now I have to compete with your giant donkey dick.”

  I laugh. “What makes you think I have a donkey dick?”

  “Of course you have a donkey dick, man,” he says. “Fuck.”

  “She didn’t see anything, Dennis,” I say. “She never got past the curtain.”

  He heaves a sigh of relief. “I’m right about that donkey dick, though, right?”

  I shake my head, amused.

  My ears twitch once more, drawn to the sound of her voice. I turn my head, catching sight of her and Trisha near the front of the stands. Trisha points at the highest seats and opens her hands wide, illustrating what shots she wants Daisy to take. Daisy simply nods and smiles. She knows what she’s doing.

  “She’s starting to show.”

  I look hard at Dennis. “Is it obvious?” I ask.

  He shakes his head. “Not unless you’re looking for it, but…” His head tilts. “Not long now.”

  “Fuck,” I whisper under my breath.

  CHAPTER 22

  DAISY

  “How are things with your boyfriend?”

  I wince and pause at the top of the stadium section. “No. That doesn’t work for me, either.”

  Rose sighs. “Well, we have officially run out of labels.”

  “I just don’t understand what he’s supposed to be yet,” I say, balancing the phone on my shoulder and raising my camera to get a wide shot of the field. You know, for a flat wasteland, Iowa sure has some fucking amazing stadiums. And baseball fans. “I wouldn’t call him a fuck buddy.”

  “He’s your roommate,” Rose says.

  “Technically true.”

  “He’s your sperm donor!” she quips with a laugh.

  “I can’t disagree with that one, either.”

  “Have you talked to him about this?”

  “No.”

  “Don’t you think you should?”

  I hesitate. “I don’t wanna.”

  “Daisy.”

  “Every time I’ve ever had the relationship talk with a guy, it’s all over by the end of the week. Every single time.”

  “Daisy, Hunter will not leave you.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because you live in his place. If anything, you’ll leave him.”

  I scoff. “Nice.”

  “Hunter will not leave you because he adores you. And you know it.”

  I sit down in an empty seat to rest my throbbing feet. “What makes you think that?” I ask her as I rub my ankle.

  “Why else would he have stuck with you so far?”

  “Because we have great sex,” I say plainly.

  She sighs. “Don’t you think that maybe — just maybe — you two are using sex as an escape hatch?”

  “I don’t follow.”

  “It sounds like you guys rely on your alter egos to step in whenever you want to avoid talking and dealing with your issues.”

  “Jeez,” I say. “I thought you were studying chemistry, not psychology.”

  “You don’t have to be Freud to see what’s going on here,” she says. “Talk to each other. The next time you guys start wandering toward the bed, pump the brakes. Use that as an opportunity to talk about what really matters, even if it’s just for five minutes. The results might surprise you.”

  “Yeah, or I’ll be single again,” I point out. “And still pregnant.”

  “Talk to him and find out.”

  I frown. “Nah.”

  “Well, has he said anything to make you think he’d bail, or are you just projecting irrational fears?”

  “I saw his face, Rose,” I say. “When Trisha told him about the scouts. If you saw it, you would agree. No matter what he says, I saw it. There’s only one thing he wants in this world and that’s to play major league baseball.”

  “Daisy, are you familiar with the term self-fulfilling prophecy?”

  I roll my eyes. “Yes, Rose.”

  “So, you know why I’m mentioning it now?”

  “To annoy me?”

  “No,” she says. “I’m mentioning it because Hunter liked you before the baby, he likes you after the baby, and the common factor of both of those things is you.”

  “What’s your point?”

  “There is no chapter in What to Expect When You’re Expecting that tells you to expect your partner to leave you, so you should not be expecting that.”

  I chortle. “You read that crap?”

  “You haven’t?”

  “I figured I’d just wing it.”

  “Daisy.”

  “Women had babies for millions of years before pretentious how-to manuals. The human race did just fine. I’m sure I’ll be fine, too.”

  She groans. “Please tell me you’re — at the very least — seeing a doctor at some point.”

  “I have an appointment tomorrow, actually.”

  “Thank god,” she says. “You excited?”

  “Kind of.”

  “Is Hunter?”

  I bite my lip. “I actually haven’t told him about it yet.”

  “Why not?”

  “I don’t want to distract him,” I say. “He’s got enough on his mind right now.”

  “Self-fulfilling prophecy.”

  “Rose, if I wanted someone to nag and berate me, I would talk to Mom instead.”

  “I can put her on,” she says. “She’s in the other room.”

  I nearly flinch. “What? Why is she there?”

  “She and I have lunch every other weekend.”

  “What?” I cringe. “Why?”

  Rose sighs. “Speaking of not telling people important stuff, you think you’ll get around to telling her about all of this soon?”

  “Yeah. Soon.”

  My phone vibrates with a new text from Trisha.

  East exit. ASAP.

  “Rose, I gotta go,” I say, standing up. “Trisha is beckoning me.”

  “Okay— Hey.”

  “What?”

  “Did you want me to go with you to the appointment?” she asks.

  I smile. “No. Thanks, though.”

  “Well, let me know how it goes. I want all the details.”

  “I will.”

  “And tell Hunter about it, too. Talk to him!”

  “Bye.”

  I slide my phone away and take one last wide shot of the field as the home team takes their place on the diamond before heading back down the stairs to the exits.

  “There you are!” Trisha scolds me as I round the corner. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

  “I was getting the shots you wanted from the top,” I say. “What’s up?”

  She shifts on her feet and slides her sunglasses back to rest on her head. “I wanted to tell you about this earlier, but I couldn’t find you. You weren’t in your room.”

  I think fast. “Oh, I had to run out early for shampoo. I forgot to pack some and that motel stuff really eats my scalp—”

  “So, the editors at the magazine are quite impressed with the shots you’ve sent in so far,” she says, talking over me.

  “Really?”

  “And I must admit…” she forces the words out, “I don’t think they’re that bad, either.”

  “Wow. Thank you, Trisha,” I say, feeling my cheeks burn red. “That means a lot coming from you.”

  “I know. I had my doubts about you at first, but we get along well enough.”

  “Well enough for what?”

  She smiles. “The magazine wants to… extend your contract after the season.”

  My heart stops. “They do?”

  “I usually spend the fall on the east coast,” she says. “Our New York guy is getting sick of commuting around New England — and who could blame him — but you live in Boston. Any plans to move anytime soon?”

  “No. None.”

  “Good. You’ll still answer to me, of course. This fall, I’ll have you shoot the university teams up there. The Harvard and Yale boys always bring in readers. You like football, right?”

  I frown. “Meh.”

  “Me neither. But it’s a job and someone’s gotta do it. Might as well be you, right?”

  “Yes,” I say. “Holy shit, yes!”

  “That’s the spirit! After that, if they still want you…” She pauses, regarding me with a light tilt of her head. “I might be convinced to take you home with me.”

  “Home?”

  “Los Angeles.”

  “Los—” I jolt. “What’s in Los Angeles?”

  “Our corporate offices,” she answers. “But that’s a topic for another time.” She rests her sunglasses on her nose again. “Run along now! Take some sexy pictures for me.”

  I obey, shuffling away from her, but I don’t feel the sensation of it at all. My senses are frozen solid — stuck fast in this moment as I relive it repeatedly.

  It’s all happening. Everything I’ve worked for. Every shift at the photo studio. Every photo I’ve taken. It’s finally starting to pay off. Sports Illuminated magazine wants me. My photos will be seen all over the country, in print and online, and it never would have happened if I hadn’t had met—

  The crowd bursts around me with screams and waving hands. All eyes turn to the sky and I follow them to see a baseball firing toward our section.