Page 37 of Pitcher Perfect (Big Shots #4)

Skylar was already fast asleep when Robbie finally managed to drag Elton and Doug home. Standing in the doorway of her bedroom

with the doorknob in his hand, he found himself savoring the moment. Coming home to Skylar. Having the freedom to walk into

her room and see her in a hoodie and flannel shorts, snuggled up with a pillow, her dark hair pluming in various directions,

lips slightly parted. She’d left the lamp on for him, but he turned it off right away and started undressing, shoes first,

socks, his jeans and T-shirt.

Getting into bed with her felt like the right thing to do. The invitation had been given, hadn’t it? Still, sleeping in the

same bed was couple shit and she might never want that with him. After this week ended, they might be nothing more than friends.

If that was the result, he wouldn’t be able to live a happy life knowing what it felt like to hold her while she slept. For

now, they were still technically friends.

Friends who went up in smoke when they kissed.

Friends who’d gone down on each other.

If she decided against them, he’d be in love with a woman who didn’t love him back.

Winded in the face of that reality, Robbie got down on the floor and started to make himself at home on the pallet, wincing

when Skylar started to rustle around in the bedding. Had he woken her?

Damn, her ass looked juicy in those shorts.

Sadly, those squeezable buns were out of sight a moment later because she turned over onto her back, stretching, revealing

her stomach. The low flannel waistband. And yeah, he didn’t get hard over the thought of a whipped cream bikini these days,

but he was definitely tenting his boxers over a girl in full-on pajamas.

She’s not even awake, pervert. Go to bed.

“Robbie?” Skylar yawned.

“Hey,” he blurted, coming up on his knees and walking to the edge of the pallet, his stupid pulse racing at the unexpected

luck to talk to her. “Hey, Rocket.”

She turned on her side, propped herself up on an elbow, and he tried not to sigh like a lovelorn poet as she blinked the grogginess

away. “What time is it?”

“Just after eleven thirty.” Try to stop him from smoothing her hair back, tucking it behind her ear. It couldn’t be done.

She looked way too soft. “Did you know your father has a secret karaoke fetish? We couldn’t get him off the mic until last

call. He was singing ‘Yellow Submarine’ to a bunch of empty tables.”

Skylar’s mouth dropped open. “You have to be talking about someone else’s dad.”

“I’m afraid not—and I’m pretty sure it’s hereditary.”

“Not Elton doing karaoke,” she gasped.

“His poison of choice is ‘It Makes Me Ill’ by NSYNC. And it did. Make me ill.”

She pressed her lips together to suppress a laugh, her eyes shining in the near darkness. “What about you? Did you sing?”

“Nah.” He paused, let his head fall forward. “All right, maybe one.”

“Which one?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“I’m going to find out.”

“Fine. Find out tomorrow. But I’ll have a better chance of you letting me kiss you good night if you don’t find out until then.”

Maybe he was a lovelorn poet, because he’d never seen anything prettier than the moonlight on her blushing cheeks. Then Skylar whispered,

“You have a pretty good chance already,” and his cock went fully erect. His blood rushed south so fast he could only kneel

there and attempt to regain his equilibrium while she scooted over to the far side of the bed. “Please share the bed with

me. You deserve better than the floor after enduring dive bar karaoke.”

“Jesus. You’re not wrong...” Robbie’s laugh was quiet and incredulous. “I’m lying, I actually enjoyed every second of it.”

A dimple popped on her cheek. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. They’re your family.”

She softened into the pillow, watching him like she was holding her breath.

He needed something here. From her. What, though? He’d only admitted his feelings and declared his intentions to her that

morning. She’d had less than twenty-four hours to start considering him as a possible love interest. A real one. Not a fake

boyfriend or a sex instructor or substitute teammate.

Stop expecting so much so soon.

That’s what logic told him.

His heart was another story. It wanted answers.

“Are you considering me, Skylar?”

“Yes.”

He’d expected her to hedge or give him a noncommittal answer, so the single word affirmative made him lightheaded, a grin

lifting the corners of his mouth. “Really?”

Instead of answering, Skylar sat up and removed her hoodie.

No shirt. No bra. Nothing. Just tits, all warm and rosy from bed.

Robbie got in the fucking bed. “Get over here.” She giggled when his knee got tangled in the sheets, preventing him from flattening her on the mattress and getting his mouth on those perky nipples.

He could still taste them all covered in shower water.

God. “Did I mention I’ve had a few drinks?

” he asked, finally getting himself unstuck.

Lunging for her.

Pressing down on top of her with a shuddering sigh from them both.

“Should we wait until you’re sober?” Skylar murmured against his mouth. “I don’t want to take advantage of you.”

He dove for her neck, razing his teeth in a circle below her ear, before kissing a path along the soft path to her collarbone,

back up, gratified by the vibration that started to hum inside of her. Gratified that he was close enough to this wonder of

a girl to feel her excitement grow. For him. “Drunk or sober, you have lifelong permission to take advantage of me, Rocket.”

“Soon, Redbeard. Soon.”

“Soon?”

“We’ve followed the schedule to the letter up until now, haven’t we?” His mouth rode over hers, indulging his tongue with

a sweep of her mouth, his hips shifting between her thighs. Humping her through their clothes, already obsessed with the firm

heat of her pussy. That’s mine. I know it’s mine. “We should wait until midnight so it’s officially Thursday. You know, just to keep the schedule intact.”

He stopped kissing her long enough to witness the mischief in her eye. “Are you teasing me, Page? I didn’t teach you that.”

“Guess it just comes naturally.”

“Yeah? I’d tell you to knock it off, but I love every fucking thing about you.

” His palm skimmed up her rib cage to cup her tit, his thumb brushing side to side across her nipple until she was squirming underneath him.

“I remember what you told me on the car ride up here. How sex moves too fast for you. How you don’t have a chance to find your rhythm, then it’s over.

I was planning on taking my time anyway.

” They breathed hard against each other’s mouths.

“I don’t want to be in the same category as every punk who blew his chance with you. I want my own category.”

“I...”

“What?”

“I want my own category, too. With you.”

She seemed a little surprised by her own admission. Like maybe it worried her that she wanted something that her brain told

her was too far-fetched.

It wasn’t.

“You already have one, Skylar.”

She chewed her lip.

Okay.

Apparently, he wasn’t the only exposed one here. And there would be no sex until she was reassured. He needed to get it right

the first time.

In an albeit painful mission to do just that, Robbie rolled off Skylar and onto his side, crushing her immediately to his

chest because, lord, he could not fucking help it. Couldn’t help rubbing his cheek on the crown of her head when she tucked

it beneath his chin. Couldn’t help sliding a hand into her flannel pajama shorts and gripping her gorgeous ass and dragging

her close, needing to feel the sweet give of her pussy against his erection. Couldn’t help memorizing the way her naked tits

felt on his bare chest.

God, this was living. This was how he wanted to stay forever. Right there in that bed, connected head to toe with this person.

“You have more than one category and they’re all pretty unique,” he managed, though his throat was tight.

“The only girl to remind me who I grew up wanting to be. The only girl I’ve ever dreamed of introducing to my parents.

The only girl who can put me in my place and inflate my confidence at the same time.

.. you know, I finally told one of the veterans to fuck off at practice. You were right, it needed to be done.”

“That’s why you have the black eye?” she asked into his throat, sounding breathless.

“Yup. Technically it’s your fault.”

“Hold on. I never condoned violence.”

“We’re hockey players. That’s how we get our point across.” Robbie locked the juncture of Skylar’s thighs tighter to his arousal,

moving her on it just a little to torture himself. “You’re the only girl I’d compete with in the wilds of Rhode Island the

week before playoffs. Only girl who’d make it worth sleeping on the floor. Skylar... you’re the only girl. Period.”

She was silent for so long, he leaned back to see her face.

When he saw the beginnings of a shy smile flirting with the edges of her lips, he started to hope. Hope he could maybe, actually

be his person’s person.

Keep her.

“Tell me I’m the only man—” On her nightstand, a ding went off on her phone. The kind that signaled a calendar reminder. Midnight.

She’d set a timer for midnight. The schedule had just decreed it was time to fuck and, Jesus, that got him hot. She’d been

wanting this as much as he had. “I’m the only man for tonight, at least, aren’t I?” Robbie rasped into her hair, tugging her

shorts and panties down, down to her knees. Hooking his toe in the garments and kicking them away, rendering her naked. God yes. “Tell me.”

In the process of peeling down his boxers, leaving them circled around his thighs, she flushed to the roots of her hair. “You’re

the only man,” she said, looking him in the eye.

Robbie waited for her to tack on the rest. For tonight.

But she didn’t.

And there was no time for clarification, maybe he was even afraid to ask for it, because it might rob some perfection from