Page 166 of The Play Maker

“A little,” I admit, voice barely a whisper.

He pulls back just enough to meet my eyes. “Too much?”

“No,” I say quickly. “Just… new.”

He studies me for a long moment, eyes gentle. His thumb strokes slow circles over my side. “You’re okay, though?”

I nod, throat tight. “Yeah.”

“Okay.” He leans down and kisses me, slow and warm. “If you want me to shut up about it, I will. I just… I care about you.”

“I know,” I reply, unable to stop smiling.

He tugs me onto my back and props himself over me with one arm, the sheet slipping dangerously low on his hips. “Can I kiss you some more?”

I nod, my heart doing somersaults as he leans down and presses his lips to mine.

His mouth moves lazily over mine. I curl my fingers in the back of his neck, letting myself melt into the bed, into him, into this feeling I never thought I’d get to have.

His hand slides up under the sheet, skating over my hip, my waist, the dip just under my ribcage. My skin tingles everywhere he touches.

He groans against my mouth. “You’re gonna kill me, Maisie.”

“You said that last night,” I tease.

“I meant it then too.” He kisses the corner of my mouth, then the line of my jaw. “I need a shower or I’m gonna do something very stupid.”

“Is it stupid if I want it too?” I ask him, tugging my bottom lip between my teeth.

He groans, his eyes locked on mine. “Don’t say that unless you mean it.”

I smile a little. “I mean it.”

He kisses me again, lingering, then rolls off the bed and heads for the bathroom. “Don’t move,” he says over his shoulder. “I’m taking you out after this.”

My heart stumbles and I sit up, pulling the sheet over my naked chest. “What?”

“A date, Maisie.” He glances back at me and smirks. “Try to keep up, baby. I’m doing this boyfriend thing right.”

He flashes me a wink before disappearing into the bathroom, and I hear the shower start a second later. I flop back onto the bed, my cheeks aching from smiling so much.

A date.

Just a few months ago, I had absolutely no one, just an anonymous number on my phone, a stranger who somehow got me through the nights I felt completely alone.

And now…

Now I have two best friends who show up for me without me having to ask. I have a group chat that actually makes me laugh. I have people whowantme around.

I have him.

My eyes flick toward my phone on the nightstand. I reach for it, scrolling out of habit, and see a text from Isabella.

Isabella:

Want to grab coffee before practice?

I smile a little as I type back, but my thumb hesitates before I close out. Because right above our chat, I see his name.