Chapter 8

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"Here. TV says it will be hot. You likely need this after last night."

Josh turned at her voice, and he took the proffered bottle of water. The television was on in the background to a news channel, and the anchor was talking about the weather in Vegas being stupid hot again today.

"Thanks." He said as he cracked it open and took a grateful sip. Dehydration was no joke, and he'd just taxed parts of his body that would parch almost any man. Willingly, of course.

She had showered with him before they had finally dressed, soaping each other, which had, of course, become another round of the most mind-blowing sex he had ever had in his life. The sheer intensity of her was throwing his mind into chaos, upending the idea of one night. He was ecstatic and exhausted. Not a good combination for rational thought.

He liked how she felt, like she fit, and it was scaring the shit out of him. The only other time he'd felt juxtaposed like this was the first time he'd been called up to the majors, and he'd been a jittery mess, so excited he couldn't contain himself, wanting to yell and scream and jump around like a crazy person, but scared as hell to mess it up.

But that was utterly different than this, wasn't it?

The way they had moved together, the way she had held his eyes as they had come together this morning... It was still thrumming through him, that one moment where he'd seen the crazy emotion in her, the utter open and raw need for him.

Fucking hell, the firecracker HAD gone off in spectacular fashion.

The suite phone rang, and she crossed the room to answer it, and he stood. Likely that was the front desk saying that Harv was here, since his phone had run out of charge. He'd called earlier to let Josh know he was coming in on the 8 AM flight, and needed to pow-wow before he got over to the ballpark this morning. It was necessary, he needed help to manage the message he'd give to the press when they spotted him today.

"That was the desk. Your agent is here. Do you want to meet up here? It's more private. I have to get going anyways."

He looked around him at the completely rumpled bed, the rumpled couch, empty wine bottle and stained crystal glasses. he noticed the hand and ass prints on the window glass smudging through the sunlight and he shook his head.

"No. Harv likes to eat when we meet. We'll head for breakfast and he'll drive me to my place after."

She fidgeted with her fingers, her face a mask he couldn't read. He stood up and crossed to her. She was feeling things too, he reasoned. This was supposed to be goodbye, thanks for the memories, and all that. But he knew he didn't want it to be. He wanted to see her again.

"We play tonight at seven." he said, hopeful as he tipped her chin up to look at him. "Come to the game if you can. I'll leave tickets for you and Sharla at the West gate."

She nodded, searching his eyes with hers, and he pulled her into a hug, holding her as close as possible. She burrowed into his chest, and his heart constricted as he kissed the top of her head. She smelled like strawberries and fresh soap, and it stirred his libido again, despite being utterly exhausted.

"This isn't the end." he murmured to her, and kissed her gently before walking towards the door. If he didn't leave now, he wouldn't be able to.


"Yo Malvern!" "Hey Josh!" "HOLA!"

Josh smiled and high-fived, shook hands, and got shoved in the shoulder as he made his way into the locker room.

The club house was familiar and welcoming, and he was glad for it. He had to make the best of this, and he was thankful it would be here, as he breathed in the chlorine smells of the jet whirlpool, the competing tangs of muscle rub and sweat.

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