Page 3

Jamil

She had a tattoo down the center of her spine.

I had already taken my time kissing my way along it. Twice. But what was one more time for good measure?

With every kiss that I whispered along her back, I watched her body wiggle beneath me. It happened after the very first kiss I placed along that tattoo, and I just couldn’t stop myself from making it happen again and again and again.

“What does this mean?” I asked her as my fingers traced the unfamiliar letters.

“It’s Greek for ‘Take courage, my heart.’ It’s something my grandmother used to tell me when I was a child.”

I placed one more kiss between her collarbones and relished in the gasp she released. “That’s beautiful.”

Her skin smelled like cinnamon.

My thumb brushed across the pulse pounding against the side of her neck, the rapid beat telling a different story from her calm exterior.

I pushed aside the long, chocolate-brown hair covering her neck so I could place another kiss on her nape, letting my tongue swipe out to taste the saltiness from the layer of perspiration lining her skin.

She sucked in a breath.

If I wasn’t already on fire, the sounds this woman emitted made me a blazing inferno.

My hands ran the length of her body, wanting to memorize every piece of her.

Every piece of this night. I almost hadn’t noticed that the familiar pain in my chest was gone or that I felt like I could breathe again, too caught up in the woman beneath me.

Exactly the distraction I needed, but not the one I’d been expecting.

Harper flipped over. Her hands wove into my curls.

Her lips bruised and swollen. Her skin flushed.

She pressed her hips up into mine and swiveled them as she teased me.

I leaned down and placed a kiss to her lips with a groan.

Every move this woman made left my mind focused on one thing—the overwhelming need to absolutely devour her.

I hadn’t felt this free in months. Being in this room with Harper was my own personal escape from it all.

No one demanded to know which commercial I wanted to do next, or which brand I wanted to partner with.

No one cared about my at-bats from the last game and if I was on track to beat my own record this season.

All that mattered was figuring out every way I could make her scream and the utter joy that brought me when I did.

The moment I sat down next to Harper at that bar, I felt a tug in my chest. As if we were meant to walk into each other’s lives just when we needed it the most.

Harper lay limp as waves of pleasure swept through her. Her eyes were closed, and her face was peaceful. The scowl I’d first noticed her wear when I slid onto the stool next to her was nowhere to be seen.

It was long after both of our breathing had returned to normal that she finally stirred. “I probably should get going,” Harper whispered against my lips. I tried to ignore the way my chest ached in a completely unfamiliar way.

“Stay,” I pleaded. I had never been one to feel desperate, but I desperately didn’t want this moment with her to end. The only thing keeping the world at bay was her.

Every minute that we’d spent together was one more minute that I didn’t think about the calls and texts from my brother asking me for more money.

Or asking me to throw games so he could make a quick buck.

There was a fissure in my heart that grew wider every time he used my success for his benefit.

But tonight, with Harper in my arms, none of that mattered.

None of that existed. Tonight, the world felt a little brighter.

Harper looked conflicted, like she knew she should leave—if only to spare us both from allowing whatever was happening from going any further.

“Just stay with me,” I whispered as I smoothed the hair off her forehead and leaned down to place a kiss there. “The world can wait a little longer for us both.”

I flattened a palm against her sternum and covered the tattoo she had between her breasts. Her resolve crumbled beneath my touch.

“And what about this one?” I asked.

“That is a waxing moon. It represents growth, manifestation, and creativity.”

There were complexities to this woman I had yet to even fathom.

Like the way she sucked my bottom lip between her teeth, which made me want to flip her back over and go for another round.

But before I could do that, Harper grabbed the hand I had pressed against her and brought it up to her mouth to kiss each of my fingers.

The function of breathing nearly slipped from my mind completely the second her lips touched my skin. But this time I welcomed it.

With our drinks from the bar still buzzing inside of us, Harper and I had a few more margaritas along with our tacos.

During our second margarita she had slid onto the bench next to me, her long leg pressed into mine.

As soon as both of our trays were empty, we were stumbling back toward my rental with our fingers intertwined.

We had barged through the front door and had barely made it to the bed, leaving a trail of clothes behind us. I was nearly positive we sent a lamp careening off one of the side tables in the living room on our way to the bedroom.

Now I gazed down at her tanned body, sun kissed from long days spent out in the Florida sun. Her eyes were a rich brown with flecks of gold depending on the way the light hit them. She lined her hand up with mine until our fingers were tangled together.

“The world can wait,” she agreed.

With the taste of tequila and salt long gone, it wasn’t alcohol that made me feel drunk.

I’d remember the sound of her moans and the way she tasted long after the sun came up tomorrow.

When she hooked her legs around my hips, I buried my nose in the waxing moon on her chest and felt her pulse beating rapidly.

Goosebumps were left where my fingers touched.

“Another round?” she asked me with mischief in her eyes. She propped herself up on her elbows, bringing her face only centimeters from mine. Desire pooled within me as she brought my bottom lip between her teeth once more.

This woman was insatiable.

I pulled her onto my lap and the gasp that she let out made my stomach clench.

All I did was want with her. I wanted to know what she felt like in my hands.

I wanted to know what she tasted like. I wanted to know what kind of sounds she made when I was the one sending her over the edge.

I wanted to know what she looked like when I woke up next to her in the morning.

With every answer I got, a million other things were added to the list.

I was putty in her hands with every word she whispered into my ear.

Give me more.

You feel so good.

Yes!

And the word that had me nearly seeing stars the second she said it.

Jamil.

“You are perfect,” I told her as I kissed along her jaw. I pulled the sheets up around both of our bodies as I rolled into the spot next to her. My fingers traced along the moon on her sternum. “You are like the moon shining in the dark for me tonight.”

“Tonight was exactly what I needed,” she rasped, her voice raw.

I turned on my side and propped my head up in my hands so I could see every inch of her. “You are the sole reason I can consider today one of the best days I’ve had in a long time.”

Harper peeled her eyes open. She reached her hand out and placed it on my cheek. “You are more than what this world wants to beat you into. You should never let the expectations of others dim the way you experience everything around you.”

Her words felt like I’d run myself straight into the outfield fence while chasing down a fly ball. Sudden and immediately painful. She was dangerously close to the truth of it all for not knowing what it was that weighed me down.

“That’s easier said than done,” I muttered, thinking about all the times I’d tried to push all the noise out of my mind. It always found a way to slip back in, no matter what I did.

“It always is. Life gives its toughest challenges to the ones it knows can handle them the best.” Harper’s voice had grown sleepy, and her eyes were heavy lidded.

As she closed her eyes and snuggled under the covers next to me, I wished for everything to be as easy as she made it out to be.

Nobody prepared you for when you were thrust into the public eye.

Nobody prepared you for when the people closest to you stopped looking at you for who you were and started looking at you as their source of wealth instead.

That pain was nearly unbearable and kept me up most nights.

I fell asleep the quickest I had in months while smoothing my thumb back and forth over Harper’s bare skin.

The early rays of morning sun shone through the blinds that I forgot to shut the night before in our hurry to the bed.

I groaned as I threw an arm over my face to try to block it out.

Birds chirped outside the window, and I burrowed further under the covers to soak up every second I could in bed.

There was a spring training game later today and I wasn’t expected to be at the complex until after lunch.

Normally I stayed in bed until the very last minute, dreading the day to come.

I reached out in front of me, wanting to feel that warmth I fell asleep with in my arms last night. Only the other side of the bed was strangely cold. My hand swept even further, thinking that maybe she had moved away in the middle of the night, but I was still met with emptiness.

My eyes flew open.

Rumpled white sheets.

No sign of a girl with chocolate-brown hair, sun-kissed skin, and a moon on her chest.

Please tell me it wasn’t a dream.

The hallway to the kitchen was silent. There were no sounds of someone milling about. I held out hope that when I turned the corner into the living room I’d see her leaning against the kitchen counters, drinking a cup of coffee.

But the kitchen was empty, like any other normal morning.

There was not a single trace anyone had been here. Even the lamp I was sure we’d knocked over the night before had been put back in its place.

The only proof that I hadn’t imagined it all was the stray mark of red lipstick smeared just under my ear that I saw in the bathroom mirror.

My fingers ghosted over the mark as if I could feel her lips kiss their way down my chest and then wrap themselves around me—knowing I’d never have a better view in my life again.

Then maybe I could manifest last night into something more than just a memory.

But I’d woken up to an empty bed with only a first name and a location to identify her.

Long after I’d wiped the mark away in the shower and left for the complex, images of the delicate tattoo on her spine and the sounds she moaned in my ear lingered in my mind.

I barely even registered the shouts from the media that lined the players’ entrance, calling out for a comment from me on the game.

It was also the first time this spring training that I didn’t feel overwhelmed by the number of objects being thrust toward me from fans hanging over the wall as I walked onto the field from the outfield fence.

I still didn’t stop to give a comment or an autograph.

The weight of the shouts only grazed me on my way to the locker room.

“You should never let the expectations of others dim the way you experience everything around you.”

Instead of worrying if I lived up to every fan’s expectation, I remembered why I played this game in the first place.

I remembered the sacrifices my mother and father made to help me succeed because they realized I was better at this than the average kid.

I could fully express every emotion I felt on this field, and it was the place I felt the most alive.

And up until last night, it had been the only place I’d ever been able to be my most authentic self.