Home Plate (Easton U Pirates 2)

He smacked my ass cheek—another thing I didn’t know I’d like so much—as he rolled off the bed and dragged me with him. “Let’s jump in the shower so we can get downstairs.”

“Looks like you’re going to have more laundry too.” I reached for his outstretched hand and glanced back at the mess we’d left. Again.

“If you’d finally move in here with me, you could spl—” Dominic shook his head. “Never mind.”

“I could what? Do the laundry and keep all the plants watered?” I smirked because the window ledges were beginning to look like a garden, thanks to me developing even more of a green thumb. My eyes snagged on the vase of peonies Dominic had gifted me last month—always so thoughtful. The peonies had, of course, shriveled by now, but I couldn’t bear to throw them away yet.

We even had some herbs growing on the kitchen counter at both our places, not that we cooked that much. But the nights when we actually did make use of the stovetop were also becoming one of my favorite things.

“No, of course not. I was trying to say that we’d share the chores.” He sighed as he twisted the shower knob. “Just looking for a good excuse to convince you to give up your lease.”

“So we can finally live happily ever after?” I slipped under the spray with him, and our lips and tongues instantly melded together.

Dominic chuckled against my mouth. “Okay, you big cheese puff.”

“Shut up,” I scoffed. “I thought you liked when I tried being romantic.”

“I fucking love it—love you too.” He pecked my lips. “But I enjoy making fun of you just as much.”

I stuck out my tongue as I squirted soap in my hand and began lathering his skin. He melted into my touch. It was something he loved, along with making out, so I tried indulging him whenever I could. It was definitely not a hardship. “Suppose I’m hardly at my place anyway.”

After graduation, it’d been important to prove to myself that I could make it on my own. I was still scared that Dominic would tire of me and toss me aside for someone better, but I was working on it with a therapist, which had been Jasmine’s suggestion. I was slowly realizing my self-worth and working on forgiving my stepdad. My therapist thought it would be good for me so I could let go of that baggage once and for all and focus on keeping the memory of my mom alive. I smiled, remembering how Dominic insisted we bring Honey here and place her on top of his dresser, since I was here so much.

“All the more reason for you to stop paying your outrageous rent,” he countered as I slicked shampoo through his hair and scrubbed his scalp with my fingernails, just the way he liked.

“Good point.” Deep down, I knew we were in it for the long haul, but sometimes I still needed to pinch myself to make sure it wasn’t just some amazing dream.

He reached for my face, a serious look in his eyes. “So you’ll do it—live here with me?”

“Let’s do it,” I said, then kissed the smile off his lips.

Fuck, I loved him. So much. I’d never felt happier in my life.

“Can we start our remodeling projects right away? Kitchen first?” I asked because we had lots of plans for the future, so why not get started? We wanted to make this place more of a home, and eventually have his parents work less in the bowling alley and take a backseat role, which they so deserved.

“I can’t wait to spruce this place up,” he replied. I knew he also meant the bowling alley, but it was all a work in progress. Funnily enough, so was I. But I’d already begun helping with an Internet overhaul, which was a dire need and important to keep the business afloat.

As soon as we dried off and changed, we headed downstairs to the bowling alley.

“There you two are.” Mrs. Girard shook her head and threw us a knowing glance, and my cheeks instantly flushed. “Nickie, maybe you could help Gemma unload the baskets?”

By now I knew that was code for: get your sister’s butt moving. Gemma had turned sixteen last fall and sort of had a boyfriend. Well, a kid who kept hanging around the bowling alley, which made her all kinds of giddy and distracted.

And now she was texting furiously and ignoring the boxes in front of her. Dominic smirked as he threw his meaty arm around her and tried to snatch her phone away. That got her moving as she tucked away her cell and focused on the task at hand, which was setting up for the Pirates’ annual fundraiser.

Now that Kellan had officially become a member of Coach Crawford’s staff as clubhouse manager-slash-team statistician, he was in charge of everything. He, Donovan, and his brother, Ricky—who was spending the day with them—had been by earlier that morning to drop off the auction items.