Page 81 of Playboy Pitcher

“I wasn’t referring to my dick.”

Don’t let me in, I silently plead.Sooner or later, everyone leaves.

But I’m selfish, so entwining my fingers around his neck, I hold on for as long as I can. “This doesn’t change anything. He’s not going to stop.”

“Let him try. If he ruins my career, I’ll still own a baseball team, right?” He smirks, kissing me harder. “My lawyers will settle out of court. I have access to as much money as he does.” His tongue finds mine, claiming the control I know he loves taking from me. “If he finds out about our marriage, so what? It’s legal, and we consummated it. He can’t fight that.” His smirk turns wicked, his kiss savage as he steals the very air he just gave me, leaving me drowning once again. “Willow…”

“Yes?” I gasp, barely skimming above water.

“You’re hiding something from me.”

“I don’t do secrets, Willow. The worst thing you could ever do is lie to me or go behind my back. So, when I ask you a question, I want a straight answer.”

We’re at a crossroads. There are only two paths to walk. One guarantees I won’t lose everything I’ve worked ten years for, while the other guarantees I lose Ben.

I’ve never thought twice about my choices. I’ve never had to.Safety. Stability. Security.Since leaving France, everything I’ve done has been calculated and cautious.

Trust no one. Suspect everyone.

“Have you ever done anything that scared you, Willow? Have you ever just closed your eyes and leaped?”

Ben’s challenge from the bar flashes through my mind, and I recall the freedom I felt on that stage. The lightness. Thejoy.

I close my eyes. “Just leap,” I whisper.

“Did you say something?”

My eyes flutter open, and I look up at this man, this baseball player, thispitcher, and for the first time in years, I take the first step toward an unknown path. “You’re right. I am hiding something, and I promise I’ll tell you. Just not right now. Not here.”

Ben lets out a long sigh—one that causes that knot in my stomach to tighten even more. Giving me one last kiss, he rests his forehead against mine. “Secrets close this, Puddles,” he says, lifting my palm and pressing it over his heart. “When you’re ready to tell them, come find me. Until then, you’re just a splinter.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

I don’t havemany memories of my mother that don’t involve hospitals. However, there’s one memory I have that’s so vivid, it’s like watching a movie in my head.

It’s from right before she got sick. Since the day I was born, Dad groomed me to be a tomboy, so Mom got the bright idea to counteract his influence by entering me into the Little Miss Jupiter pageant. She was by no means a pageant mom, so we stuck out like two infected thumbs. But that woman was stubborn, and despite throwing a full-on tantrum, there I was, walking on stage as if I’d just been air-dropped in after a round of electroshock therapy.

I was sprayed, teased, and trapped inside eighteen layers of pink tulle. Even at four years old, I’d never felt more uncomfortable or out of place.

Until now.

Glancing down, I smooth a hand down the length of my yellow dress.Yellow.I haven’t worn colors in years. If it’s not black or white, it doesn’t touch my body. Maybe I’ll add a splash of red here and there because blood is badass, but yellow?

What the hell was I thinking?

I’m going to kill Emma for talking me into this.

“He already thinks you’re a black hole of secrets. Wearing that emo shit will just reinforce it. Yellow is happy. It says, ‘trust me, I’ll never be a stupid closed-off bitch again.’”

That’s what I get for listening to someone who prays at the altar of reality TV.

I didn’t come here to confess. At least not yet. But I also don’t like the way we left things yesterday in the locker room, and I haven’t been able to sleep or eat for thinking about it. I have no plan. No rehearsed speech. Nothing but the misguided advice of a teenage matchmaker.

To be honest, I’m not sure what the hell I’m doing.

“Here goes nothing.” Sucking in a breath of courage, I ring the doorbell.

Even through the thick wooden door, I hear a clattering of metal and a string of curses. Curious, I lean in to press my ear against it, when it’s jerked open, and I tumble straight into Ben’s chest. “Oooofff.”