When I realized what I said, I squeezed my eyes shut, mortified that I’d shown my hand. I was not good at this, apparently. But I’d also never felt like this before about anybody.
“You’re softer when no one’s looking,” he’d told me. Yeah, I guessed I was.
Kellan’s mouth turned up at the corner with a little smirk, but his eyes had melted with affection. I wanted to tell him to cut it out or I was liable to kiss the hell out of him right then and there.
“Okay, Crawford, I’ll see you around.” I walked backward a few steps, knowing my parents were waiting for me.
He shook his head and smiled. “Later, Donovan.”
14
Kellan
It was a weekend of baseball and stolen glances between Donovan and me, as if we were rummaging through what happened between us at the club while also trying to act the same as before around each other. Dinner with his family a couple of nights ago had been fun and sweet, even if Donovan looked shell-shocked much of the time.
I was sitting at the back of the bus for the ninety-minute drive back from our game in Cincinnati, with my earbuds firmly in place, listening to an obscure band I’d recently discovered. The team was quiet, possibly because Saturday’s doubleheader had gone into extra innings and this morning’s game was lost by five runs, which had put a damper on yesterday’s wins.
Without warning, Donovan plopped down beside me, his shoulder pressing against mine as he reached for an earbud. He was lucky I wasn’t in a cranky mood like Maclain, who was bitching at Girard for hogging a whole row with his long legs, which was nothing new.
“Um…” Donovan’s forehead creased as he listened.
“Wild Child. Folk band from Austin.”
“Interesting…”
I shrugged. It wasn’t like I was a music aficionado. I just liked to listen to different stuff based on my moods. Nighttime was all about the soft ballads, or if I was really desperate for some shut-eye, nature sounds. Donovan was sure to make fun of me for that. And at the club the other night I only wanted a good beat, even if the refrain was overdone and cheesy.
Speaking of which, I welcomed the normalcy between us right then, or the rest of the season could prove awkward. I wouldn’t deny there was still this electric tension between us as his thigh pressed against mine. I could’ve moved away, or called him a seat hog, but I enjoyed the contact. Even if it was by accident. But knowing Donovan, it was his own way of kicking up my pulse an extra notch.
“So, hey, it’s my birthday next week, and we’re having a few people over…” His gaze shot to the front of the bus, where my dad was sitting, possibly recalling his warning about late nights. “You could invite Jasmine too.”
I stared at him, unsure how to respond, because he knew he was placing me in an uncomfortable position. Despite our make-out session and the spur-of-the-moment invite to dinner with his family, he knew I didn’t hang out with the team like that.
He angled his head and lowered his voice, and right then I was glad the seats in front of us were empty and the team had decided to spread apart and chill out. “It would be cool if you showed up for…solidarity’s sake?”
I bit back a smile. “Oh, you’re good.”
“I am,” he said, his knee playfully knocking against mine.
“Laying it on thick.”
“It’s what I do best.” He turned his megawatt smile on me. “So, you’ll come?”
Ugh, he was going to kill me with that earnest glint in his eyes.
“We’ll see.” I hunkered down farther in my seat, accidentally dislodging his earbud—my earbud—and giving myself the opportunity to reclaim it.
“Fair enough,” he replied, but I could hear the disappointment in his voice. Even if I didn’t show up at his party, I’d definitely think of some gag gift to get him for his birthday. It was the least I could do.
When my phone buzzed with a text, I looked down at the message and frowned.
“What is it?” he asked.
“Nothing serious.” I sighed. “Jaz and I were supposed to go to this…thing at Clancy Park tonight, but she got called into work.”
“What sort of thing?”
“Actually, it might be something that interests you.” I didn’t know why I hadn’t suggested it after our night in the hotel, but to my credit, I was still trying to keep my distance from Donovan. And just because we’d kissed didn’t mean he owed me anything. In fact, not bringing it up ever again was probably for the best. “They show movies every Sunday near the gazebo, and tonight is a Kevin Costner doubleheader.”
He scratched his head. “Why would I—”
“Field of Dreams and Bull Durham.”
His eyes lit up. “No way!”
“Only two of the best baseball movies out there,” I replied, charmed by his reaction. “And everybody brings their own blankets and food and stuff.”