Hello everyone!!!
I updated in only twoish weeks. Isn't that exciting? Woohoo, go me!
I hope you guys haven't given up on me yet. I know I take forever and a half to update, and I'm so sorry. I'm pretty sure I'll be able to update a little faster now.
Keep up with those comments and likes. It really does help me to update faster when I get alot of comments, just because it fuels me to know that you guys really care. Construstive criticism is always welcomed, so what you think! I love hearing your feedback. It's my fav <3.
What'd you guys think of the last chapter though??? Let me know if you like this one at the end of this chapter.
That's all folks.
VOTE, FAN, COMMENT!!!!
Love,
Elle
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Beep. Beep. Beep
I groaned into my pillow at the shrill sound coming from my phone on the night stand. There were few things in the world that I hated more than my stupid alarm in the morning. I was by no means a morning person, so everything before about 9, pisses me off to no end. I whacked my phone until I finally hit the right button to shut it off.
However, my groan was not by itself. Another sound of annoyance came from my bed, which made me realize that an arm was draped over my waist. Since when did that get here?
Hot breaths were being blown into my hair in a steady rhythm. I definitely did not remember going to bed with someone else in my bed.
I twisted around in his grip; his arm not letting me go. I came face to face with a certain green eyed boy grinning at me sleepily. His blonde hair was in a ruffled bed head. His eyelids fluttered closed, but his hold around my torso didn't loosen.
"Good morning," he greeted me quietly. His voice low and still filled with sleep, yet Miles's eyes remained closed.
"I don't remember going to bed with you in here," I said softly.
"I got cold," Miles defended, pulling me farther into his chest. He of course, wore no shirt and his chest was warm under my touch. He still smelled of his usual cinnamon colonge that drove me a little crazy. Not that I would ever tell him that because I know his head would only get bigger than it already was.
"There are these things called shirts that people wear to keep warm," I teased tapping his chest.
"Shirts are overrated. You know you want me in your bed anyway."
I embarrassingly blushed at his comment. Why could he make me flustered so easily? I was not a person to blush as much as I have been.
"You're cute when you blush," Miles said. His eyes only opening to see the color rising in my cheeks.
His green irises were still hazy from sleep. I couldn't help but continue to stare in to his eyes. They memorized me with the flecks of gold and almost glittering emerald green.
"Getting lost in my eyes?" Miles teased. His full pink lips stretched into a crooked grin.
I slapped his chest playfully, but snuggled into him farther. He nuzzled his way into my shoulder, still making my breath hitch in my throat. It didn't matter if I was very comfortable with him; he still could make me stop breathing correctly. The warm breaths returned to my skin. This time smoothing over the skin on my neck.
I had only gone to bed in a pair of shorts and sports bra, so I was rather exposed to his wandering hands that were currently playing with the bottom strap of my sports bra. My breathing had not returned to normal yet and wasn't getting much help from his teasing. Then, kisses were being dropped on my skin, causing me to shiver at each one. His lips were warm and lingered at the skin, nibbling and sucking on it softly. My mind was swarming out of control by his small touches.
As if he was only trying to make it worse, he flipped us over, so he was hovering over me, continuing doing what he was doing. His eyes were fully clear now, alert to what was going on. Miles's hand traced over the skin on my stomach with one finger. He removed his face from my neck to look down at my squirming body, reacting to his touches.
He knew exactly what he was doing unfortunately. His head dipped back up to lay a kiss on my forehead, both cheeks, and then the corner of my lip. Finally, he found my lips for a searing kiss that left us both breathless and gasping for air. Miles started to lean back down for more when the handle of the door began to rattle and an eventual click of the door being successfully opened.
I put a hand on each of his shoulders and shoved him off of me and successfully on to the floor. Miles landed with a thud that he suppressed a yelp for.
"Good morning, children. Isn't it a beautiful morning. The birds are singing, the sun is shining, and some baseball teams are calling to us to beat their asses," Danny sang into the room. His arms spread out to emphasis his point.
He stopped when he finally danced fully into the room; Jackson trudging in behind him.
"Miles man, why are you on the floor?" His eyebrows furrowed in confusion at his friend.
We were in a rather compromising position with Miles on the floor with no shirt, and me in only a sports bra, and shorts probably with a full blown blush on my face. Wow, this is familiar.
I swear to God, this was the third time that Danny has entered the room or banged on the door during one of Miles and I's... moments.
"Just kind of fell out of bed when Gloria's alarm went off," he made up, easing himself up from the floor. "Scared me."
Danny twisted his lips to the side before shrugging his shoulders, going with Miles's lie. Jackson on the other hand looked between the two of us with a creepy smirk on his face.
I gulped hoping he didn't put two and two together.
"How the hell did you get in here?" Miles asked. He flickered his eyes over to me, but I ignored him.
"You guys left one of your keys in our room last night, so we just wanted to come make sure you guys were awake and return the key. Breakfast is in 20 minutes." The wide grin on Danny's face stayed put. The guy was always happy and a ray of sunshine, sometimes a perverted ray of sunshine, but still a ray of sunshine.
"Thanks Danny," I replied. A smile of my own lifting the corners of my mouth.
"Anything for you, Glors. Anything." He wiggled his eyebrows at me.
Did I mention a perverted ray of sunshine?
I rolled my eyes at him before throwing one of the decorative pillows at him, which he caught and tossed back.
"The rule from yesterday is still in place," I called as he turned on his heel to leave.
"And my anything offer is still on the table," he called back, walking out.
Jackson remained stationed in the middle of the room. The smile from before was frozen on his face.
"What? Why are you looking at us like that?" Miles whined.
Jackson shook his head and started out the door himself.
"Gloria, make sure to cover that thing up on your neck," was all he called in response. The door clicked closed behind him.
My hands flew up to my neck where I could feel a hot, raised spot on my neck, pulsing.
"Miles Everett Harris!" I gasped, realizing that Jackson was most definitely referring to the large hickey on my neck that was only partially covered by my bedhead.
Miles gave me a sheepish grin. "Just marking my territory. Danny is getting a little handsy."
The decorative pillow in my hands was chucked at Miles's head, which he moved out of the way of.
"Calm down. No need to throw more things."
"Don't tell me to calm down. Never tell a girl to calm down, especially me! He knows!" I exclaimed, throwing my hands in the air. "Oh my God, we're dead."
"He's not going to tell anyone, Princess. He gets it. Anways, I think he's known."
"What do you mean, you think he's known?" This was not good. Yes, I trusted Miles, but this was not good. We were suppose to keep this on the low, even to him.
"He's a smart guy and my best friend since we were little. He knows me in and out. Danny is pretty oblivious to everything though." Miles climbed back on to the bed I was sitting on and pulled me to his chest for a warming hug. I rested my head on his chest, but my mind continued to race.
I raked my hands through my hair before roaming over the hickey on the skin connecting my shoulder and neck. How careless could you be, Gloria? I need to make sure this thing was covered or else, it was going to be very obvious. Hopefully, our jerseys would go high enough up.
Miles kissed the top of my head; his hand moved up and down, rubbing my back.
"We need to get going for breakfast before we get anyone else suspicious."
Miles groaned yet again and fell back on to the pillows.
I got up from the bed, untangling myself from Miles's long tan arms and stretching my arms over my head. A few things cracked in my back and knees loudly.
"I swear, Danny is the biggest cockblock in the world," Miles muttered as I headed into the bathroom.
"That's all you got out of that whole thing?" I called.
"Yes, but the most annoying part is that he doesn't even know he keeps doing it."
I chuckled at his observation, but he was right. Danny was a huge, oblivious cockblock.
...
"Hey right here, kid!"
"Get it, Gloria!"
"Hey, let's go bud!"
Cheers were being screamed out the dugout from my teammates. I stepped slowly into the batter's box, pushing some excess dirt out of my way with my right foot. I raised my bat up to my shoulder to sit comfortably before staring up towards the mound. The pitcher was leaning in to get the sign.
We glared at each other from our respectable positions. I could practically see the smugness oozing out of him as he stood high and mighty on the mound.
I mentally rolled my eyes at him. He was similar to the many other pitchers that we have been forced to play. To be quite honest, I was prepared for him to come right out and hit me. It had been a common trend in the games.
I had bruises all over still healing from the multiple times I've been purposefully hit. Beats me why they would just give up a base so easily, but it just gave us more of a chance to score.
I lifted my bat off my shoulder, preparing for whatever he was about to throw at me. My hands made small circles close to my ear as the pitcher stood up to get in his windup. He kicked his leg up and stepped forward swinging his arm towards homeplate.
The ball was inside, but it was obviously just a brush off pitch. Inside enough to make you flinch, but not close enough to hit you. I held my ground and didn't move away. I could practically feel the air coming from the ball cutting to the catcher's mitt.
Ball.
The catcher tossed the ball back, however, the pitcher seemed irritated that I hadn't moved off the plate at all or jumped out of the way. I knew all these tricks. Dumb mind games.
I was going to wait for this kid to throw me a strike before I was going to take a hack at one.
Apparently the pitcher had the same idea because the next pitch he threw was a nice strike to the outside corner of the plate.
Strike one.
I subtly nodded my head, noticing he was a decent speed, but he threw a flat ball, which meant he had little movement or break to another part of the plate.
The next pitch was high, around the top of my chest. I was a sucker for high pitches, but I kept the bat back and stayed disciplined.
Ball.
The count was 2-1. A count that was usually seen as a hitter's count.
I bent my legs, readying myself once again. When the pitcher's leg pulled up, I shifted my weight into my load.
The ball was coming in over the outer portion of the plate yet again, but I was ready this time. I wanted to hit the ball to the right side anyway. We had a baserunner, Dylan, on second base at the moment.
The game was currently in the 5th inning, and we were up by a run.
I stepped forward and hammered my hands at the outside pitch. I made sure to snap my hips through the zone quickly like Coach has been telling me to do for most of the season.
The bat made contact with the ball and sent it on the course of a line-drive up the right field line.
Dylan took off from second base, while I sprinted to first deciding to try for second since the ball had been yet to be picked up.
Dylan rounded third and trucked his way home. He slid in safe.
I realized the play was going to be a tad close, so I dove head first into the bag with my hand outstretched to grab the base.
I was called safe and made sure to receive time from the umpire before standing up. Dusting off the front of my jersey and pants, I now registered the whoops of delight being yelled from the dugout.
"Atta baby!"
"Yeah, Gloria!"
"That's my girl!"
A smile graced my face from the compliments being shouted from the dugout. I half waved to them, which they responded with whistling and more yelling.
I took a lead off of second and watched as Jason stepped into the box. He was playing right field this game and hitting in the eighth spot. I had finally been moved up in the batting order instead of batting last or second to last. Plus, when you got to the tournament's post season, you could only bat nine players. Six of the people on our team could no longer bat. Unfortunately, Harrison had not made the top nine. He had massively improved since getting to camp, but his age being so much younger than the rest of us just didn't let him be on the same pace as the rest of us. When he was a few years older, Harrison was going to be an amazing player.
Coach did sometimes put in runners or let someone hit, if one of the starters were having trouble. It wasn't that often however.
The first pitch came inside on Jason but painted the corner just enough to be called.
Strike.
There was only one out, and we were now up by two since Dylan scored. The adrenaline from the game had been pumping through me the entire five innings we've played so far, and it didn't seem like it was going to stop any time soon. I wasn't one to be nervous during a game, but adrenaline was always there.
I glanced over at our dugout and scanned the row of guys standing on the top stair, leaning on the dugout fence. All of them were clapping and yelling words of encouragement at Jason, who was getting ready to step back in the box.
My eyes suddenly met a very familiar pair of green eyes that were the only ones not looking towards homeplate. They crinkled at the edges into a real smile that made my heart beat just a little faster, but slowed everything around me down.
I couldn't help, but return the grin. He mouthed me "Good job" from where he stood, his arms perched on the top of the fence. A blush rose to my cheeks.
What the beck was wrong with me?
We were standing 100 plus feet from each other, and he still made me blush like a little girl. I snapped back to the game, realizing I was going to get picked off if I kept losing focus on what was going on. Luckily, the pitcher was taking his sweet time leaning in for the sign and getting ready to pitch. I hated slow tempoed pitchers. Just get on with it, so we can play the game. No need to wait for a few years to pass before pitching the damn ball.
I can't lie. I have to have everything exactly as I want it or else it bothers me. I was a bit of a control freak to say the least with a whole lot of pet peeves.
One happened to be overly cocky players and teams, and this pitcher was currently displaying this wonderful trait. He kept sending glances over his shoulder at me, but kept his face uninterested and bored with my presence at second base. I was rather tempted to give him the bird next time he looked back at me, however, I didn't want to be targeted anymore than I already was by other teams and pitchers.
I don't know what it is about most pitchers, but they're so cocky. Always strutting around their mound like a proud rooster, head bobbing and smirk wearing. None of the pitchers on our team acted anywhere close to that behaviour, or at least, not as much as most of the assholes we faced.
The next ball was thrown over the plate, and Jason saw this out of the pitcher's hand. Unfortunately, he was early, and the ball was hit to the third baseman as a chopper.
I took a few more steps towards third base but not too far, in case he threw back to second to try to get me instead.
The third baseman was smart enough to look back at me though. He had plenty of time since the ball was so sharply hit at him. He took his time to keep looking at me before throwing across the diamond to first. I stutter stepped towards third base to try to draw the throw back to third.
However, the first baseman stretched and caught the ball to get Jason out, and then he ran the ball back to the pitcher.
I jogged back to second and didn't push my luck. Now, I probably could have tried a little harder to get to third or at least get the third baseman to delay farther, so Jason could make it to first.
And it looks like I will be called out for it.
"Really?" Coach screamed from his coaching box at third. "I needed you here or to help your teammate out. Get your head in the game, Gloria!" His face was beginning to flush its usual red. Arms were being waved in annoyance.
I grimanced at his extremely loud voice that carried very easily over the park and overexaggerated gestures. The field had gone pretty quiet, so everyone in the complex could probably hear my ass being chewed out.
I dropped my head a little, noticing most of the snickering going on with the other team. When the pitcher turned around yet again, I narrowed my eyes at him, sending him a glare. He only gave me a sleazy smile.
The dugout had gone suspiciously quiet as well. I snapped my head in that direction. Most of them had their hands covering their mouths, trying to hold in their giggles. Danny was plain out laughing at me. Was it funny to them that I got yelled at? Miles only had an amused smile on his face. His shoulders shaking with a few chuckles when I sent him a sharp look.
I put both hands on my hips and glared at them from across the diamond.
Idiots. I swear boys are just a bunch of idiots.
...
We ended up winning 6-3, continuing our life in the post season of the tournament.
When I did get back to the dugout, I gave my hyena-like teammates a good lecture, clasping my hands together so I didn't end up just hitting one of them. The lot of them were more like my 14 brothers, except for Miles of course.
Danny proceeded to laugh at me and then dance around the dugout singing "Get Your Head in the Game" from High School Musical, so that was amusing. Consequently for him, he got made fun of for knowing the entire song from a supposedly "girl movie." He has a little sister, so I know he's watched it quite a few times.
After the game, we piled on to the bus to head back to Marist. Our next game wouldn't be for a few more days and at a different college anyhow.
We were currently on the bus, but stopping for a restroom break before Gabe wet his pants. That kid could not hold it. We always had to stop however many times because of him.
Everyone piled off the bus except for Jackson and I, who didn't need to use the bathroom or buy food from the gas station quick-mart. Another thing that always made us stop: food. They all stocked up on snacks before we leave for a game, but they go through their food faster than a 13 year old girl can go through a clearance rack at Hollister.
Luckily for me, I usually packed enough snacks or I stole some from Harrison when he wasn't looking.
Sitting in my normal seat waiting for the guys to return, I flicked through my phone, looking through Twitter mindlessely. A person plopping into the seat next to me causing me to finally look up.
Jackson however, just sat in Miles's seat silently, staring at me with that creepy smile again.
"You're really scaring me with that smile again," I complained, batting him on the shoulder with my hand.
"How's life with loverboy?" he finally asked. A smug smile appeared on his face.
My mouth formed an "o" in surprise before regaining a bit of sense.
"Shut up," I snapped, again hitting him on the shoulder, a bit harder this time. I crossed my arms over my chest and glared at him, but a blush was beginning to rise to my cheeks.
His smile only brightened.
"He makes you blush," Jackson sang loudly, tickling me on the sides.
I slapped his hands away before putting my head in my hands, so he couldn't see the ever-growing red blossoming.
"It's not funny," I whined like a little kid.
"I knew this was going to happen," Jackson crowed at my wailing.
"What are you talking about?"
"From the very beginning of camp, I knew that something was going to go on. You didn't drop to his feet when he wanted you to. I've seen that, God knows how many times."
"So?"
"He talks about you constantly when you're not around," he admitted about his best friend. "Gloria's such a good short stop. Gloria's throws are always on target. Gloria, Gloria, Gloria," he recited in a high pitched voice, sounding more like a boy about to hit puberty.
I giggled at his riduculuos imitation of my roommate.
"No, he doesn't," I argued anyway.
"Give me a break. He looks at you like I've never seen him look at a girl before. I don't know if no one else is paying attention, or they're just idiots, but it's so obvious, even before he left that trophy of a hickey on your neck. I mean, that thing is huge."
I slapped a hand over the spot, even though I had already covered it fairly well with makeup and my jersey collar.
Jackson only laughed at my feeble attempts to cover the discolored spot.
The blush on my cheeks only became hotter at the things that Jackson was saying about Miles. He couldn't possibly be doing all that stuff. It made my heart flutter furiously in my chest at the thought. This was uncharted territory for me, and I didn't know how I felt about it. He wasn't even on this stupid bus, but he made me a bit dizzy with only the thought of him.
"Oh God, you are crazy for him too," Jackson suddenly sputtered out.
"He is not crazy for me," I pathetically countered.
"Gloria, I've known Miles for so long, I know what drawer he keeps his underwear in and how he likes it folded a certain way."
I clamped my hands over my ears before loudly singing "lalalala" over and over. "Too much information," I squealed in between my very off key singing.
"Hey," Jackson yanked my hands away from my ears before continuing. "What I'm trying to say is that I know him better than anyone else. Trust me when I say that he is head over heels for you."
The sound of the bus doors creaking open stopped our conversation with that. Jackson pulled himself out of the seat and walked down the aisle to his original row.
"Just try to keep it down at night would you?" Jackson said, parting from the converation.
My mouth dropped open, but didn't form any words to react to that.
I glared at Jackson's retreating back, barely noticing Miles sitting back down.
He put a finger under my chin and gently closed my still open mouth. "Are you trying to catch flies?"
I swatted his hand away, slightly embarrassed that I looked like a complete idiot with my jaw basically touching the floor. On second thought, Miles has seen me do way more humiliating stuff.
"What's got you all riled up?" he asked, noticing my still narrowed eyes.
"Your best friend," I muttered. I leaned my head to the side and rested my temple on his shoulder.
"Wow, usually this conversation is the other way around, and you're saying the exact same thing to Jackson," Miles observed, glancing down at my face, which I had successfully covered with my hair.
He was right. I was usually complaining about something aggravating that Miles did to Jackson. Oh, how the tables have turned.
Realizing how intimate our current position was, I sat up and smoothed out my probably crazy hair.
It was beginning to become dark outside, and I was tired from today's game.
There were still quite a few games left before the championship game. We would play in three days, then turn around to play another the next day. The same would repeat once again with a three day break and then games on back to back days. If we got that far, we would be in the quarter finals.
It was still a ways away though. I knew we would probably have a light practice tomorrow, and more of full practices the two next days.
I rubbed my eyes with the palms of my hands. Over thinking this thing was tiring me out. I glanced over at Miles, who was beginning to fade in and out of sleep. He however, opened one of his eyes to catch me staring at him.
"I know I'm really something to look at, but a picture would last longer," he said cockily.
I rolled my eyes at his poke at me. He never does seem to lose his big headedness.
"Thanks for the suggestion, but since I already have to be with you 24/7, I don't need another reminder of you," I fired back.
"Feisty are we?" Miles commented, looking at me from the corner of his eyes.
I simply shrugged my shoulders in response but gave him a quick wink.
Turning to face forward, I attempted to close my eyes and get some sleep, but I couldn't help but feel a pair of eyes watching me. Sure enough, Miles's emerald eyes were trained on me.
"You know a picture lasts longer," I said, throwing his words back at him.
Instead of saying anything in response, Miles pulls his iPhone out of his pocket and takes a picture of me. The flash practically blinding me from the sharp contrast to the dark bus.
"Thanks for the suggestion," he replies, not looking up from his phone. He clicks the power button on and off before flipping it around to face me.
A picture of me was set as his lock screen. I was completely taken by surprise for the picture, so my eyes were opened wide, bewildered, and lips were slightly ajar. My hair was messy, and the light splash of freckles that were sprinkled across my face were very visible.
"Wow. That has to be one of the worst pictures taken of me," I muttered, staring at the picture.
"Are you kidding me?" Miles asked swiftly. "You look incredible as always. I think this is one of my favorite pictures of you that I have."
"Wait, you have more?"
Miles scratched his head, realizing he gave something away. "I have a few of you that you didn't see me taking."
"And you act like I'm the obsessed one," I countered.
"It's not that big of an obsession, but I definitely have a strong like for you," Miles admitted, watching me through hooded eyes.
I struggled to swallow and keep the blush off my face.
"Alright then," was all I could respond back with.
"Alright."
Since it was already dark on the bus and everyone was distracted or passed out, I went back to my head resting on Miles's shoulder.
I could feel him take a deep breath in and sighing as he released it.
I began dozing off in the first few minutes of laying my head on him. As my eyes shut to fall into sleep, something was mumbled into my hair, but I didn't have the alertness or desire to ask what he had said. It could wait.