The Strike Out Read online

  Hell . . .

  Chapter Twenty

  HARMONY

  Holt: Not to sound like a dickhead, but happy one-month anniversary, babe.

  Harmony: How would that make you sound like a dickhead?

  Holt: Not sure many guys remember that kind of shit.

  Harmony: It’s cute.

  Holt: You’re cute.

  Harmony: Have any celebratory plans?

  Holt: I wish. Disik is being an asshole and making us stay late for batting practice, because he doesn’t want to be embarrassed this weekend.

  Harmony: So, I’ll be spending the night with my vibrator?

  Holt: I can give you the real deal, babe. Just say the word, and I’ll be over there later tonight.

  Harmony: Hmm, I think I prefer the vibrator.

  Holt: You know how to cut me deep.

  Harmony: Keeping you grounded is the right thing to do.

  Holt: Is that why we haven’t truly had sex yet? Because you think my ego will explode once I show you how magical my cock is?

  Harmony: Complaining about how you’re receiving your orgasms?

  Holt: I’ll come in your mouth any fucking day, but you know I want to claim your pussy. My mouth has become well acquainted, and my dick wants a turn.

  Harmony: Patience.

  Holt: You know I’ll wait as long as you want me to, right? Don’t want you to think I’m pressuring you.

  Harmony: If I’ve learned anything about you these last few weeks, it’s that you’re incredibly patient.

  Holt: Are you flirting with me?

  Harmony: I also learned it’s hard to compliment you without getting a teasing remark in return.

  Holt: Yeah, not the best at compliments. But thank you.

  Harmony: That’s better.

  Holt: Got to get to class. Meet me for lunch, at least?

  Harmony: I’ll try. I have a few articles I have to get through for the internship, and you know I like to run through them three times so I don’t miss anything.

  Holt: A working lunch. I promise I won’t bother you. Just want to hold your hand.

  Harmony: Can’t say no to that. Text you later.

  Holt: K. Bye, baby.

  * * *

  “Hey, Mom,” I say, answering the phone, happy for the reprieve from work. My eyes were starting to blur.

  “You’re alive. I considered calling in the National Guard to look for you.”

  “Sorry.” I chuckle and press my hand to my forehead. “Been a bit busy.”

  “Uh-huh. Have you been busy with a certain someone? Because, you know, I never got a follow-up on how that’s all going. But I’m assuming from the lack of phone calls that things are going well?”

  I smile to myself, thinking about how Holt came over last night, and how we cuddled together on the couch and watched a movie. He held my hand, something he loves doing, we tossed popcorn in each other’s mouths, and even hung out with Priya when she got back from her shift at the diner. It was nice. Relaxing. It felt right.

  “Yeah. So Holt and I are dating.”

  She laughs. “I thought so. Well, that’s great, sweetie. How are things going?”

  “Good.” I hold back my girlish sigh. “He’s amazing, Mom.”

  She laughs. “Oh, dear. I can hear the smile on your face.”

  “Yeah, I can’t help but smile when I’m around him. We’ve been going out for over a month now and we really haven’t told anyone, so don’t get upset. We’re happy with how things are—”

  “Harmony, you don’t need to explain anything to me. I know what it’s like to want to keep something special to yourself. I’m just glad you’re happy.”

  “Very happy.” I bite my lip and look out my living room window. “I think he could be the one, Mom. I know that sounds crazy, but there’s this strong connection between us. Like we were pulled together for a reason.”

  “I can understand that. That’s how I felt with your father. Sometimes when you know, you know. There’s no time frame for when you’re supposed to fall in love. There’s no agenda when it comes to the heart. If he’s the one for you, then nurture your relationship, help it grow, and let yourself love.” When I’m silent, she asks, “Do you love him?”

  “It feels so crazy to say yes to something like that. It’s been a whirlwind this last month. Could I really love someone that quickly?”

  “Yes,” Mom answers matter-of-factly. “You can. I knew after three weeks of being with your father that I loved him.”

  “How do I know what I’m feeling isn’t just lust?”

  “Well, tell me something about him that you like. And not something on the surface. Something that matters.”

  I don’t even have to think about it. “He has this ability to make a bad situation great. He’s full of endless positivity. I find myself craving him when I’m having a bad day because I know he’ll make it better with either his quick wit, holding my hand, or a sweet gesture like surprising me with ice cream. He can read me so well. It’s as if he knows exactly what I need from him in each moment. He makes me smile, Mom.”

  “Then that’s how you know it isn’t just lust. He’s taken the time to learn those things about you, to make what you need from him a priority. I’d say you’re extremely lucky. Does that scare you?”

  “A little,” I admit. “But only because it’s uncharted territory for me. Not because it’s with him. And I also don’t know if he feels the same way.”

  “It’s okay to enjoy this moment in your feelings. I believe society puts pressure on us to let our feelings be known, to shout them from the rooftops. But it’s okay to know that you love this man and hold that close to your heart, because that love will continue to grow, and when the time is right, you’ll tell him. But don’t feel the pressure to speak your truth about your feelings just because you’ve realized them. Just enjoy them. Enjoy him.”

  Feeling at ease, I say, “Thank you, Mom. I’m glad you called.”

  “I’m glad I called too. Now tell me . . . when do I get to meet him?”

  I chuckle. “Maybe I’ll FaceTime with him sometime soon. How does that sound?”

  “It sounds perfect, sweetie.”

  * * *

  Holt: Where are you?

  Harmony: Home, working on some things.

  Holt: Can I come over?

  Harmony: Do you even have to ask?

  Holt: Be there in a few minutes.

  I scan the scattered papers strewn across the dining room table and consider cleaning them up but then realize Holt won’t care. I throw my hair up into a messy bun on the top of my head and shout up to Priya, “Holt’s on his way.”

  Priya jogs down the stairs in a pair of sweats and a Brentwood University T-shirt. “Are you two going to bang? I got those new noise-cancelling headphones and I want to see if they work.”

  “That’s not weird at all.”

  She heads into the kitchen. “You guys are loud. I want to put those puppies to the test.”

  “We aren’t that loud,” I mutter.

  “Uh, yeah, you are.” I hear the fridge close, and she joins me at the table with a yogurt and spoon. “Honestly, how many packages of condoms have you gone through so far?”

  “None.”

  Her eyes widen. “You’re not using protection?”

  “We haven’t done it, done it.”

  “Wait.” She sits taller in her chair and points her spoon at me. “Are you telling me you haven’t had sex? Just fingers and mouths?”

  “Yeah.” I feel my cheeks flame.

  “Holy. Shit.” She shakes her head. “Okay, well, when you plan on actually doing it, please give me a heads-up. I’d like to make sure I’m not around because I can’t imagine what that’s going to sound like.”

  Just then there’s a knock on the door and Holt walks in. We’re at that comfort level at this point. When he spots us at the table, he has a big smile on his face. He holds up a bag of takeout and says, “I brought Chinese food for dinner. H
ope you girls are hungry.”

  When we don’t say anything because, frankly, I’m a little mortified, Holt asks, “Uh, did I walk in on something?”

  Without saying anything, Priya sets down her yogurt and spoon and starts slow clapping. Holt looks at me, confused, and I bury my head in my hands.

  “What’s going on?” I can hear humor in his voice. Thank God for that.

  “I knew you were good, Holt Green,” Priya says. “But I was completely unaware of your mastery. All I ask is that you give my future man pointers.” Then she stands from the table. “I’ll get plates and drinks.”

  While she’s in the kitchen, Holt walks over to me, sets the food on the table, and then leans down and presses a kiss to my cheek. “What was that about?”

  “She just found out we’ve never had sex, and she’s impressed because of how loud we’ve been.”

  A deep rumble comes from his chest. “Ah, I see.” Standing tall, he calls to Priya. “It’s all about the tongue, Priya. I can teach your man a thing or two.”

  She pops her head out. “It would be much appreciated.”

  “I want to die,” I say into my hands.

  Chuckling, Holt pulls out a seat next to mine and says, “Can I help you straighten up these papers? I don’t want to get food on them.”

  “I got it.” I start gathering everything and putting it in neat piles when I feel Holt’s eyes on me. I pause and turn to meet his heavy stare. “What?” I ask, tilting my head.

  He smiles and says, “You’re beautiful.” The townhome seems to fall silent as our eyes connect. He reaches out and cups my cheek, his thumb passing over my skin gently. “Really fucking beautiful.” And that’s when I remember I’m not wearing any makeup. It didn’t even occur to me to put any on. That’s how comfortable Holt has made me feel in my skin.

  “Thank you,” I say as I lean forward and wrap my hand around the back of his head, pulling him in closer. I connect my forehead with his and take a deep breath.

  I love him.

  I love him so freaking much, and even though I’m scared to say those words out loud, I’m grateful to feel them deep in my bones.

  Slowly, I press my lips to his and allow myself to get lost in his touch, in having this consuming man all to myself. His mouth barely parts, letting his tongue peek out for a brief moment before he dives deeper. I strain toward him.

  Needing more.

  Wanting more.

  “Ahem.” Priya clears her voice behind us.

  Holt quickly pulls away and smiles up at Priya, while I feel as if I’m stuck in a haze. Hearts and romance float all around me, drugging me, making me feel uneasy and exhilarated all at the same time.

  “Sorry, Priya. My girl is just looking exceptionally good tonight.”

  Setting the plates, silverware, and drinks down, she says, “I can see why you moan the way you do. The man is lethal.”

  I glance over at him. “He is.”

  He winks and then dips into the bag, pulling out the food as if he hasn’t just altered my reality with his compliments. With his focused, earnest attention. How? How am I that lucky?

  After we finish dinner and spend some time with Priya, we clean up and head to my bedroom, where we both lie in my bed, facing each other. His eyes are sleepy, but there’s also something in them that’s different. As if he’s been waiting to tell me something.

  I smooth my hand up his shirt and rest my palm on his abs. “You never said why you came over. It seems like you have something to talk to me about.”

  “I do,” he says, working his hand under my shirt, as well.

  “Is everything okay?”

  “Yeah. Everything is fine, baby.” He smooths his thumb reassuringly over my skin. “I wanted to talk to you about my game this weekend. It’s just fall ball, but you can still go, right?”

  “Of course. Priya is coming with me. She was able to get the time off.”

  “Good.” He wets his lips. “Uh, I just found out my parents are flying in and are going to be there.”

  “Oh. Do you not want me to go to the game?”

  “What?” His brow pinches together. “No. I want you there, babe. I was hoping you’d go out to dinner with us after. If you’re comfortable with that.”

  “With your parents?”

  “Yeah.” He smiles. “I’ve been telling them all about you, and now they really want to meet you. I know it might be too soon, so I get if you’re not comfortable meeting them.”

  “Are you comfortable with me meeting them?” I ask.

  He chuckles. “I wouldn’t mention it if I wasn’t.” He squeezes my side. “I’d love for you to meet them. My parents are great people, and, as I want you in my life, I want them to get to know my girl. You’re important to me, and I know you’ll be just as important to my parents.”

  I smile softly. “You’re important to me too, Holt.”

  “So, you’ll go out to dinner with us?”

  “I would love to.”

  “Thanks, Harmony,” he says, using my name, something he rarely does.

  “You don’t need to thank me, silly.”

  “No, I feel as though I do.” He looks away and then cutely says, “This is going to be really lame, but thanks for giving me a chance, babe. You make me really happy.”

  His eyes flash up to mine and my heart trips in my chest.

  I love you.

  I want to whisper it.

  Shout it.

  Kiss it into him.

  Show him how much he makes me happy. How much he’s changed this semester for me already.

  I swallow hard, tamping down my feelings. “You make me happy, too, Holt.”

  “Yeah? You know I want to check in every once in a while, make sure you really are happy.”

  “I’d let you know if I wasn’t happy. Do you not remember our fight about Chet?”

  His jaw tightens. “Yeah, I haven’t forgotten about that.”

  I smooth my hand up to his chest and try to soothe the anger that’s boiling inside him. When it doesn’t seem to work, I work my hand in the opposite direction and slip it underneath his sweatpants and into his briefs, where I grip his length.

  His eyes turn heavy as he bites on his lower lip. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  I stroke him a few times. “Distracting you. Is it working?”

  “What do you think?” He rolls to his back and places one hand behind his head as his cock grows in my hand.

  “I think it is.” I let go of his length and he starts to protest, but then I take off my shirt and toss it to the side. His eyes light up when he catches sight of my red, see-through lace bra.

  “Ba-abe.” He sits up on his elbows. “What is that bra?”

  “Oh, do you like it?”

  He swallows hard. “Uh, you could say that.”

  I slip off my sweatpants and say, “Then you’ll like the matching thong.”

  He drags his hand over his face as I reach for his briefs and sweatpants and pull them off his legs. I straddle his lap, lining up his cock with my center. Hands on his stomach, I ride him, the thin fabric of my thong our only barrier.

  “Ah, fuck, babe. I’m not going to last, seeing you like this.”

  My center pulses with every stroke over his hard cock. “Me either.”

  “Then we better make it good.” He flips me onto my back, removes his shirt, and then, in his naked glory, he thrusts against me, over and over again, his cock rubbing in just the right spot, emulating sex, but still keeping that last, single barrier between us.

  I’m ready to have sex with him. I’ve been ready, but exploring each other like this, trying new things, pleasing each other in different ways, is exciting. I don’t want that excitement to end, especially since he’s completely naked right now, driving against me, but still, there’s a sense of secrecy between us.

  I don’t know what it’s like to have him inside me.

  He doesn’t know what it feels like to drive his cock into me. I don
’t know what it feels like to have a man inside me who I love . . . and from what he said about having never been in love before, he doesn’t know what it’s like to be inside someone he loves.

  But when it finally does happen, it’s going to be explosive. It will be worth the wait. Worth allowing each other into our very deepest parts, knowing we’re with who we want to be with forever. I hope.

  He flips the cups of my bra down, exposing my nipples, then he leans down to suck on them.

  The entire time, I let him take charge, working my body into a frenzy, and while he does that, all I can think about is how much I love this man.

  * * *

  “How many times are you going to check your reflection?” Priya asks as I adjust my lipstick in her car mirror.

  “This is the second time,” I say, smacking my lips together.

  “Yeah, and you’re going to a baseball game. You’re not meeting the Queen of England.”

  “But I’m meeting his parents. They’re in a different social class than me. I need to look put together.”

  “Doubt they’d care. I’m pretty sure they only care about Holt’s happiness, not your family’s wealth. It’s not the eighteen hundreds anymore.”

  I snap my purse shut and let out a deep breath. “I know. I just want to make a good impression.”

  We get out of Priya’s car and head toward the stadium gates, where crowds are surging in. Brentwood baseball draws in just as much of a fandom as the Bobbies and Rebels here in Chicago, even in their practice fall ball season. The tickets are free for students, garnering a crazier following, especially since tickets are on a lottery basis now. The only reason Priya and I have seats is because Holt got us a pair of tickets behind the first-base dugout.

  “You’re worried about your appearance, you want to make a good impression, and you can’t stop talking about Holt. You know, I’m beginning to think you might love this guy.”

  I can feel my ears heat up from her realization.