Beyond the Game (Out of Reach 2)

“Fair point,” she agrees. “What about this? Do the ladies flock to them?”

“You could say that.”

“Perfect. I’ll take one of those, please.” She wags her eyebrows again before shoving another chip into her mouth.

Paisley turns to face me. “I’m sorry. She’s lost her mind apparently,” she mumbles.

“I don’t know. I think her idea has merit.” I give her my most charming smile. The one my mom claims could charm any woman with a pulse. I’m leaning into her, and if I’m not mistaken, her posture shifts to lean in just a little closer to me as well.

“I’m sure you’re busy doing… whatever it is that you do.”

I should tell her what I do, but I like the mystery. Sitting next to Paisley has been the most fun I’ve had with a woman in longer than I can remember. “I can make the time,” I assure her.

The crack of the bat echoes throughout the stadium, pulling her attention. Jeffrey Jennings just hit a home run for the Blaze. This has Paisley jumping out of her seat and thrusting her hands in the air as she cheers. She begins to high-five the people sitting in front of us and behind us. They’re all talking and celebrating like they’re old friends, and I can’t help but be envious. I want to be the one celebrating with her.

She takes her seat, and our arms brush each other on the armrest. She’s quick to pull away, and I have to force myself not to reach over into her lap and lace her fingers with mine. With the softness of her skin against the roughness of mine, she’s a perfect fit. I bite back a laugh. I’m being ridiculous. It’s as if one look from this beauty and my world has been tipped upside down.

“Come on!” Paisley calls out.

My eyes travel to the screen to watch the replay. The first baseman, a veteran, John Hastings, missed a line drive that should have landed straight in his glove. Instead, the ball bounced off his glove and rolled right, and all three runners advanced. It was a play he should have had in the bag, but he’s getting slower. If I’m being honest, he’s been slow for a while. That’s a part of the reason I’m here today. To take a look at the team, and first base in particular. It’s a position that the Blaze needs to fill. In fact, since losing All-Star first baseman Easton Monroe, the Blaze has been lacking in that position.

“He should have had that,” Paisley mutters, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Just ignore her,” Willow says, leaning over Paisley to talk to me. “She takes her baseball seriously.”

“Nothing wrong with being passionate about something,” I reply. Both women turn to look at me, and I shrug. I have a passion for baseball as well. I also have a passion for the brown-eyed beauty sitting next to me.

Speaking of those brown eyes, I need to see them. Reaching over, I push her sunglasses down on her nose. “There they are,” I say, my voice soft.

“What are you doing?”

“I needed to see your eyes.” She meets my stare for several heartbeats. It’s not until Willow interrupts does she break our connection and look away.

“Look!” Willow points at the jumbo-sized screen closest to our seats.

I don’t want to pull my gaze away from Paisley, but I don’t want to be a dick to her best friend, either. Not if I plan on seeing her again. My eyes follow to where Willow is pointing. I glance at the screen and see that we’re on the kiss cam. I can’t stop the grin that tilts my lips when I look back at Paisley. “What do you say?” I ask her. My voice is light, hiding the fact that I want to kiss her.

“Oh.” Her cheeks pinken. “We don’t have to. I mean, we don’t know each other.” The rise and fall of her chest and the way that she licks her lips tells me she’s just being polite. She wants to kiss me as badly as I want to kiss her.

“P, it’s the kiss cam, and you would literally be kissing Cam,” Willow points out.

“She has a point. My friends do call me Cam.” My smile grows.

“We don’t have to,” she says again. She says the words, but she leans in, just a fraction of an inch, but I see it, and I plan to give us both what we want.

I lean in close, blocking out the world around us. “What do you say, Paisley? Can I kiss you?” She swallows hard and gives me a subtle nod. That’s the only invitation I need. Turning my ball cap backward, I slide my hand behind her neck and move her mouth closer to mine. Her breath hitches just before my lips touch hers, and I feel that sound all the way to my cock.

I take my time, softly pressing my lips against hers. They’re softer than I imagined them to be. I nip at her bottom lip, and she gasps, opening for me. All bets are off when I slide my tongue past her lips, tasting her for the first time.

My free hand cradles her cheek as I allow myself to get lost in her. I kiss her slow and deep, taking my time. I have no idea if I’ll ever get this chance again, and I’m taking it. What’s that saying you miss 100 percent of the shots you never take? No way do I want to leave this stadium today with regrets, and not kissing Paisley would be the biggest of my life to date.

When I start to hear clapping and yells of encouragement, I know I have to pull away from her, but I don’t know if I can. I kiss her a few more times, soft pecks against her lips, before drawing my head back to look at her. Her sunglasses are once again covering her eyes, but I can see the tint to her cheeks and the way she seems to be struggling to take a deep breath. I recognize the signs because I’m a victim of the same symptoms.

“Wow!” Willow says, breaking our trance.

Paisley sits back in her seat and stares out onto the field. I can’t get a read on her. I don’t know what she’s thinking. “Hey.” I lean in close and whisper in her ear, “You okay?”

“Sure,” she says, not bothering to look at me.