Page 11 of Only You

NINE

Phew. I really need to get it together around Tatum.

I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. He doesn’t seem all that bothered by my obvious ogling of him, but still—I know I’m playing with fire here. He’s straight, first and foremost.

And maybe Tatum is just a flirty guy. I know he is. So why can’t I just stop thinking about the way he was looking at me? Like maybe he wanted me to do something about my obvious attraction to him.

That can’t be.

I’m imagining things.

What I’m not imagining though—what definitely cannot be explained away—is that massive—and I mean massive—bulge I saw under his towel. But maybe his dick just likes attention, male or female. It might not even matter.

Still, I can’t stop thinking about the outline of his huge cock through the thin white towel as we drive out to the park to meet Kellan and his family. Tatum’s family.

I can’t describe how it made me feel to hear him describe them that way, but the closest thing to it is happiness. Pure happiness for the sweet boy I met all those years ago. Who was guarded with everyone else, except me. Who had no one but now has a family.

It’s beautiful.

My dick has finally calmed down by the time we reach the park, thank God, because I see the entire family here and waiting as we pull up and Tatum parks his truck. He’s all huge grins as he hops out to greet the kids, Phillip, and Kellan.

I greet them and receive a warm welcome—even though some are maybe a little more suspicious than others by my presence here. Kellan is for sure keeping an eye on me, and Cason seems to be watching me carefully too, even though he’s the one that started this all.

Braylen seems to be completely unaware, and Kieran has his Kindle out and finds a bench—ready to sit this out, apparently.

“Come on, let’s get you a helmet,” Tatum says, taking my hand, and I try like hell to ignore the exploding electricity firing all the way up my arm from his very light, very simple touch.

“What? I was just going to observe,” I say, but I’m walking along with him.

“No way. You have to at least try it,” Tatum declares, his face all lit up with childlike excitement.

“Those are the rules,” Braylen says as Kellan hands him a bat, and Phillip places a helmet on his little head.

“They are,” Philip says with a warm smile in my direction. “Just swing the bat once and you can make your escape.”

I chuckle, and Tatum frowns, placing a helmet on my head and looking straight at me. “No way. You’re going to love it. You’ll see.”

I get lost in his eyes for what feels like forever but finally realize we aren’t alone, and maybe I’m staring at him a little too much. Thankfully, it’s easier to look away from him when Kellan hands me a bat. “I think you’ll like it.”

I take the bat hesitantly, looking over to the batting cages and seeing Cason and Braylen are already swinging away. Raegan is just watching them, scrolling on her phone, but she does have a helmet on, so I’m assuming she’s going to take a turn at some point.

“Come on.” Tatum puts on a helmet too and then walks me over to the cages. “Don’t be scared. Maybe I can teach you a few things, for once.”

My entire body shudders at the thought of Tatum teaching me something, and I have to let out a slow puff of air from my lungs to try to calm my raging hormones.

Tatum is straight.

We’re friends.

And I’m perfectly fine with that.

Of course, when we go into the cages, and the machine starts to warm up, and I feel Tatum’s large body at my back, his hands directing mine how to hold the bat, it makes it really damn hard to remember that we’re just friends.

It’s nearly impossible when his large hands drag over my sides to my hips, maneuvering me to the stance I need to be in. I take another deep breath and release it when he removes his hands from my body but doesn’t move back away.

I hope to hell he doesn’t realize the impact he’s having on me right now.

He tells me when to swing, and I do what he says, my bat connecting with the ball with a loud crack.

I watch in awe as it zings through the air and hits the net in front of me.

My mouth falls open, and I turn to Tatum excitedly. “I can’t believe I hit it!”

“See?” He looks proud as he nudges my shoulder. “I told you. Feels good, right?”

“Not too bad,” I say with a grin.

“Line back up and do it again,” he says, and I do it again and again until my muscles are screaming at me, and I let him take over.

I leave the cage since he doesn’t really need my direction, but my eyes are glued to him as he hits baseball after baseball, his strong, inked biceps flexing with each calculated swing.

“Not bad, huh?” I startle at the sound of Phillip’s voice, but I think I recover okay.

“Yeah, he’s pretty good.”

He laughs. “I meant you hitting in general.” My cheeks feel warm as Phillip’s gaze moves to Tatum with a sly grin on his face. “Though, yeah, Tatum is pretty good.” He nudges me playfully with his elbow. “But do not tell him that or we’ll never stop hearing about how magnificent he is.”

I chuckle because I have no doubt. “He really loves these kids,” I say absently, looking around at where the others are taking turns hitting the ball and notice that Cason is chatting Tatum up from his spot. Both laughing and teasing each other about who can hit the most and the furthest.

Phillip smiles, looking completely content. “He does. And they love him.”

“I can tell.”

“What’s it like having him back in your life?”

“Strange,” I answer honestly. “But wonderful.” I’m surprised at my own admission, but Phillip doesn’t seem surprised at all.

“He’s a good man. Protective. Did not like me at all at first.” He smiles fondly in Tatum’s direction. “But a good man.”

I’m not surprised Tatum didn’t immediately like Phillip—not because of Phillip himself but because of his occupation. Social workers can be great allies, but they’re still part of the system we both grew up in. A system that has more bad than good a lot of the time.

A system you have to learn how to work. How to keep some things to yourself to choose the lesser evil. I know it all too well.

“I’m glad you’re friends now. He’s quite fond of you.”

“I’m pretty fond of him too.” He smirks. “Again, just don’t tell him that.”

I laugh, and Phillip goes to sit next to Kieran to chat for a bit. Cason and Kellan are playing with Braylen. Raegan goes to the car because she’s had enough family time, and Tatum removes his helmet and comes to stand by my side, watching Cason, Kellan, and Braylen.

“Good day?”

“Very good day,” I affirm. “So... this seems like it could be a great spot for a date.” I try to say it casually, but if I’m being honest with myself—I don’t like the thought of Tatum on a date. “Brought anyone here before?”

“Nope. Just you,” he teases.

But somehow, I don’t like that answer. Not because I want him to date—though I’m not sure why—but because it feels like he’s skirting around the question. “Do you date?”

We’ve talked about the fact that I don’t date—but we haven’t talked about him, and I’m more curious now than ever. His large shoulders lift and then drop as his eyes stay off me and on what everyone else is doing. “Not really my thing.”

I want to keep the conversation light because honestly, it’s been nice just joking and teasing him—playing around—it’s been really nice. “And you gave me a hard time for only wanting hookups.” I place a smile on my face—hoping it’s coming across as teasing, but I’m curious.

“Yeah. It’s just...” I can tell he’s being very careful with his words, and I don’t like it.

It’s very un-Tatum. His eyes finally meet mine again, and I can see the seriousness there—the wary kind of concern.

“You always seemed so gentle. Kind. I thought for sure you’d be a romantic and want that in your life. ”

A dark sense of dread starts to fill me, but I try to push it away. I’m the one who started the conversation. I can’t slink away from it now. “I thought I’d want that.” And I did. I used to dream of coming home to a husband, maybe even kids someday. Definitely some animals. Maybe a dog or a cat.

But things changed. I realized getting a husband would force me to get close to someone. To trust. And I just don’t think I have that in me anymore. I was a fool once, but I won’t be again.

“I was way too naive then. I’m not now.”

“So you have to be naive to find love?” He’s not angry, but there is tension in his voice.

“Maybe,” I answer, my defenses starting to go up. “I mean, why don’t you want a relationship, Tatum?”

“Because I’m a player who thinks with his dick, and people get hurt.” His blunt reply surprises me, even though it really shouldn’t. Tatum is a pretty blunt person. “I’m not meant for relationships, but you are.”

My entire body feels itchy all over, like I want to crawl out of my skin and get away from this topic.

I start to walk away, to catch my breath to regroup, but Tatum gently captures my wrist and keeps me in place. “If it’s because of what happened...”

“Don’t,” I say, tugging my arm from his hold and taking a step away from him. “Please don’t,” I say a little quieter but keeping my voice firm with my eyes on his. This is a boundary I need. He can’t cross it because I can’t go there again.

I try to portray all that with just a look, and when his shoulders slump ever so slightly, I know that he gets it. Joking and talking about sex—bottoming and topping. Me teasing him about being drool-worthy in a towel. That’s all fine.

But I can’t go back to the past.

“Okay,” he says softly. “I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for, Tatum,” I answer him honestly.

I know he blames himself for me pushing him away all those years ago—that’s Tatum for you.

He wants to fix everything, and he takes it all onto his broad shoulders.

I don’t want him to feel that way, but I know myself well enough to know if he tries to prod me about it, I’ll do the same thing again.

I’ll run.

And I don’t want to.

“You wanna hit some more?” He nods toward the cage next to us, and I realize he’s changing the subject. He’s not going to push. Relief washes over me, and I laugh.

“No way. My arms are killing me.”

His hand moves to my upper arm, and he gently massages it with his hand, feeling the tight muscle.

It’s heaven and hell at the same time because his touch just does something to me.

I lean into him, and he smiles sweetly. “Hmmm, I suppose we can call it a day. But you have to promise to come back with me sometime.”

I want to lean into him. I’d give anything for his big arms to wrap around me and hold me tight, to not let any of the bad things in. But instead, I just nod my head and say, “Deal.”

He looks relieved, I realize, and I hate that he was probably afraid I’d push him away.

We may be friends again, but it’s becoming pretty clear we still have a long way to go just to feel safe and comfortable.

It’s worth it though. I know it is. I’ll do everything I can to make him feel that way with me and to not run. To not push him away.