I close my eyes, allowing myself to enjoy the peaceful moment with the girl who knows everything about me. My hand gently slides up and down her back, memorizing the curve of her spine and how it slopes out as it reaches the swell of her ass.

Before I’m ready to let go, Kinsley steps away and sighs. “You were awesome tonight, Maddie. Reminded me of all the times I sat on those cold metal bleachers in Woodland, watching you try to hit the ball off the tee you would place in different strike zones. I’m really impressed.”

“Those were good times.”

“For you. I froze my ass off.”

I smile, remembering looking over into the stands, seeing Kinsley wrapped up in multiple coats and blankets in the dead of winter, watching me pitch. She was there to support me, even if no one else was. Without exception. God, I’ve been lucky.

“You got smart though and started laying a blanket on the bench.”

“After a few frozen ass cheeks, you learn quickly.” She takes off her shoes and tosses them to the side in the entryway as well as her satchel.

I bend down and pick them up only to put them in the entryway closet.

Oblivious, she moves through the apartment. “Do you want some water? I’m getting myself a glass.”

“I’m good,” I answer, trying not to look at her ass when she reaches up to grab a glass from the cabinet. Pushing my hand through my hair, I say, “I’m going to go to bed, and you should too. Big day tomorrow.”

Water in hand, she turns around, her face lit up with excitement. “I can’t wait. Tomorrow is the first day to make a change in this world.” She walks toward me and lightly places her hand on my chest. It’s an innocent touch on her end, something she’s done many times, but right now, with my veins buzzing with awareness, it causes my breath to catch. “You made this happen for me. Thank you, Maddox.” She reaches up and presses her soft lips to my cheek before heading into her small bathroom.

Hell . . .

I head back to my bedroom, feeling as though I’m dragging fifty pounds of baggage behind me—which I very well might be. I quickly get ready for the night and slip under the covers of my large bed, so large that I feel guilty that Kinsley’s sleeping in the other room . . . on Clyde.

I’m about to get up and tell her she can sleep in my bed—it’s big enough for two and we can keep our distance—when I hear the telltale sound of duct tape being torn off the roll.

Rip.

Jesus Christ.

Rip.

Knowing my girl and her determination, even if I did offer her my bed, she wouldn’t take me up on the offer. She’s bound and determined to show me how Clyde is still very much alive and living even though she’s taping together his dead carcass. Again.

Rip.

I shake my head and let out a large sigh before grabbing my phone and checking my messages. Three.

Yasmin: Why are you cancelling?

Katrina: Hey, are we getting together this week? I haven’t heard anything since you said rain check.

Tess: No problem. You know I’m here when you want to fuck.

I drag my hand over my face and place my phone down, alarm already set. I sent the girls texts this morning, telling them I was taking a break. It feels weird going on a fuck date when Kinsley is living with me. No other reason. I know she’d expect me to go, but, I don’t know . . . I think it would be disrespectful.

At least, that’s the reason I try to convince myself of.

Chapter Six

MADDOX

“Death. This is what death feels like.” Kinsley comes out of my bathroom, towel wrapped around her torso, her hair and makeup done. Even at that, her eyes are barely open and she’s moving like a zombie. “Who thinks going into work at eight thirty is an appropriate hour?”

She takes a seat next to me on the bed and leans into my side, her fresh soap smell of lavender and vanilla tickling my nose. I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t sniffed her bars of soap a few times since she moved in. She has three. Purple, green, and black. That’s all she has in my shower other than her razor that looks like it’s from the nineteen twenties. I asked her yesterday about her weird soap bars and she told me she had a face, body, and then a combo shampoo and conditioner bar. The razor, well . . . zero waste through a recycling program of course. How she doesn’t tear up her legs with the thing, I have no idea.

But I do know the reason why she smells so fucking good all the time, and it’s from the trio of soaps she has in my shower.

With my arm around her, I say, “Everyone thinks eight thirty is an appropriate time.” I kiss the side of her head and then stand, taking her hand in mine and helping her to stand. “Come on, I’ll make you breakfast while you get dressed.”

“That’s sweet, but I’ll have one of my protein bars. I don’t want to be bloated going into work for the first time.” She gives my hand a squeeze and then heads for her suitcases. I walk out of my bedroom, giving her some privacy. I pour us both a cup of coffee and look at her pathetic bed. Once again, there’s a break in the springs and the mattress is deflated and falling through the bottom. What the hell is she doing at night that’s causing her to fall to the floor? Leaping horizontally in her sleep?

After a few minutes, she comes strolling out of the bedroom, and the moment my eyes land on her, I swear under my breath. It’s a simple olive-green dress with sleeves. The hem falls to just above her knees, and she’s paired it with some black flats. Simple, but stunning.

She looks up from where she’s picking a piece of lint off the skirt and catches me staring. Smiling, she does a little twirl and asks, “What do you think?”

Trying not to swallow my tongue, I say, “You, uh . . . you look great, babe.”

“Thank you.” She walks up to me and takes the cup of coffee from my hand. “I packed clothes to change into in case they want me to get down and dirty the first day. Got to be prepared.”

“Smart,” I say, eyeing her still.

She nudges at my shoulder. “What are you staring at me for?”

“Just . . . uh”—I scratch my chin—“just haven’t seen you in a dress in a long time.”

“Are you saying I look pretty?” She playfully bats her eyelashes at me. All I can do is nod.

“Yeah, you do.”

She notices my serious tone and straightens up, a blush creeping over her cheeks. “Oh . . . well thank you, Maddox. You look very nice in your”—she looks me up and down—“well, in your sweats. You rock them.”

I chuckle and bring her into another hug. “You’re all kinds of perfect, Kinny.” I kiss her one more time on the top of the head, unable to control myself. “Dinner tonight?”

“Can you swing that?”

I nod. “Day game. We have a travel day tomorrow, and I’ll be out on the road for six days and then it’s the All-Star break. So I’ll have time off. Let me take you out to eat to celebrate your first day.”

“Can I pick the place?”

I eye her. “As long as it’s not one of those places where all they serve is dirt from the ground and then charge you thirty bucks for it.”

“One time, it was one time.” She pushes away from me and plucks an apple from a bowl of fruit in my kitchen. “And I promise, it will be a place we can both eat at.”

“Then you can pick.” I give her a wink. “Got to get ready. Have a fucking great day, Kinny.”

“Thank you.” She waves and smiles and I swear to God, my heart lurches from the twiddle of her fingers.

On the way back to my bedroom, I try to figure out what the hell is going on with my head. This is Kinsley, my best friend, there shouldn’t be any eying, any lurches, or catching my breath around her. I shouldn’t be touching her every chance I get or have a ball of warmth churn and roll in my stomach whenever she touches me.

I’m merely tired, surprised she came early, and maybe a little hard up from cancelling my fuck dates. Getting away tomorrow will be good, give us some time apart and a chance to reset.

What the hell am I even saying? She’s been here for three days. I’m talking like she’s been here for a month already. If three days has me acting like a goddamn lunatic then what will a few months going to do to me?

Chapter Seven

KINSLEY

“Kinsley, are you ready for a tour?”

I stuff my dress and my flats in my satchel and toss my hair up into a short ponytail just to get it out of my face. I spent all morning filling out paperwork, going through some safety training—training I didn’t quite need since I’ve been working at a shelter for over eight years—and now that I’m changed and lunch is over, I’m ready to get my hands dirty.