Page 58 of Off Limits: The Firsts

Take it day by day, Scout. Enjoy the time; don’t think about tomorrow. But, I want tomorrows with someone. I want yesterdays, tomorrows, and next years with someone because I’ve never gotten that chance before.

And that’s why I can enjoy Easton, but can’t get attached to him.

“Why are you pushing me so hard to get back on the field?” Easton’s irritation breaks through my thoughts, pulls my attention away from my fear and back to his conversation.

“Because nothing is guaranteed,” Cal says and unknowingly confirms my resolve. “Contracts are contracts, son. When you sign on their dotted line, you become a commodity.”

“Meaning?” Frustration resurfaces in Easton’s voice.

“Meaning this is a business. While you may play for the love of the game, the team is in it to make a profit. And you not on the field is not helping their bottom line.”

“Do you know something I don’t know, Dad?” His voice escalates, disbelief vibrating in its timbre.

“No. Not at all. I just know how clubs operate. Four months is a long time to be out.”

“Yeah, well, it’s not like I’m a pitcher, coming in for one game, and then getting five days off. I play every day. My arm returns almost every pitch, so I’m not being a pussy here. I’ve played through the pain before. A cortisone shot and some oxy and I’m good to go for a big game . . . but this isn’t just a strain, and for some reason I don’t think you get that.”

The physical therapist in me wants to give him a standing ovation for understanding the seriousness of his injury, while the child in me understands Easton’s plight in wanting his father to comprehend where he’s coming from.

“I know you’re not. It’s just . . . I can’t quite get a read on Cory yet. And while I may be the face of the club, first and foremost I worry about you as my son.”

“I know you do.”

The elevator dings and the forgotten Chinese food delivery arrives. When Easton walks into the kitchen with the bags in his hand, his father is not behind him.

He doesn’t say anything at first—just sets the food on the island as he gathers plates and silverware from drawers I’m not familiar with. I watch him, wondering if I should leave and let him have time alone with his thoughts, when he surprises the hell out of me by grabbing my waist and pulling me against him.

Strong arms wrap around me, and his chin finds its way onto the top of my head. My arms snake under his and around his torso, unsure what else to do other than be here for whatever it is he needs right now.

I can feel him breathe in deeply, can feel him clench and unclench his jaw, can hear his heart beneath my ear where it rests against his chest. The stirring of desire that is always a constant when he’s around smolders to life, but I know this is so much more than that, so I hang on and let the moment be.

“It’s been a day,” I murmur, drawing a rumble of a laugh from him.

“Yes, it has,” he sighs. “Let’s eat.”

“You will be hungry again in one hour.” Easton laughs when I read my fortune. “Very cheeky, but probably true. What does yours say?”

I glance over at him reading his, and he hands the little strip with his fortune to me. “Here.”

“The fortune you seek is in another cookie.” I roll my eyes. “These are funny. Someone was definitely in a mood when they made these.”

“Seems like it.”

I’m sitting in the corner of the couch, my back against the armrest and my arm propped up on the back. He’s beside me, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, turning the uneaten fortune cookie over in his hand. He’s here, but still a million miles away. My eyes wander over the definition of his torso, admiring the obvious work he’s put into his physique, and my fingers itch to reach out and touch him.

“You’ve been quiet. You okay?”

“Yeah, just thinking,” he says with a sigh as he tosses the cookie onto its bag and leans back beside me. He rests his head against the couch pillows, then turns it to the side so he can meet my eyes.

“Care to share?”

“A lot of things.”

“Mr. Forthcoming,” I tease.

“You want a rundown, then?” His smile is wide, and I can sense his playful side emerging.

“A rundown?”