Summer in Manhattan

“It is nice,” she said. But she knew she wasn’t talking about the weather or even about the game that was about to start. She was slowly coming to find that Hoop wasn’t like the other guys she’d known. He was different.

It had been hard to see at first because of his floppy hair and the way his jeans hugged his ass, but there was more to Hoop than his sexy smile and the butterflies he made her feel. He was a nice guy. A good guy. Someone she had to get to know more.

Chapter 4 (#uff7ccf9f-610b-51d0-a31e-3f56cebe8f93)

At the bottom of the fifth, the Red Sox were up by two and Cici wasn’t feeling the love from the others around her. Except for Hoop who couldn’t stop smiling at her.

She stood up to cheer.

“Cici.”

“Yes?”

He didn’t say another word, just lowered his head and their lips brushed. There was that electric buzz that went from her lips through her entire body. She closed her eyes and felt the brush of his breath over her lips before he kissed her. He pushed his tongue into her mouth with a gentle caress and she pulled him closer, going up on her tiptoes to deepen the embrace.

He smelled of summer. Sunshine and beer and hotdogs. And some scent that was just Hoop. He held her close and she felt like she wasn’t alone.

Damn.

She wanted to pull him closer and take more from him. Take everything that he had to give her and keep it. But she wasn’t sure that was possible.

He was strong, so she wanted to borrow his strength. She wanted to figure out how he was able to always be that way when she’d been faking for too long.

He kept his hands on her face, his touch light and she held onto his waist as he angled his head and broke the kiss. He looked down at her and she looked up at him and realized that no matter what she was trying to convince herself of, she wanted Hoop.

Her blood was pounding a little heavier through her veins, her skin felt so sensitized that when he skimmed his fingers down the side of her neck, goose bumps spread down her arm.

She pulled back and felt the hotdog and kale chips she’d eaten earlier start making their way back up. Damn.

“Sorry,” she said, covering her mouth with her hand.

She swallowed and reached for her bottle of water. Her “morning” sickness wasn’t going away. She tried to bolt down the aisle but not everyone was quick to move.

“I’m going to be sick,” she yelled, and if she wasn’t feeling so bad she would have laughed at how quickly the Yankee’s fans moved out of her way. She barely made it to the restroom before she threw up everything she’d eaten that day.

Her stomach wasn’t happy just emptying the contents but added acid and bile to the mix. When she was finally finished heaving, she went to the sink to rinse her face and wash out her mouth. She hadn’t realized how much she hated throwing up. But to be honest, until her pregnancy, it had been limited to some mornings in college when she’d drunk too much the night before.

This was different. She felt weak and wanted to just curl in a ball and have her mom bring her warm 7-Up and crackers. But she knew that wasn’t going to happen. She had to go back to her seat and rejoin Hoop. She patted her pocket and realized she’d left her phone and bag in the stadium.

“Bean, you are torturing me,” she said.

She walked out of the restroom and found Hoop standing against the cement wall across from the exit. He had her purse in one hand and a bottle of water in the other. He had his legs crossed at the ankles and gave her a tentative smile when he saw her.

“Some of the other fans thought you had it coming for cheering so loudly,” he said. “A few unkind ones suggested it might have been my kiss.”

“It definitely wasn’t your kiss,” she said, trying to smile. Her voice sounded funny and raw from being sick and he pushed away from the wall and walked over to her, holding out the bottle of water. She took a swallow. He handed her a piece of minty gum and she took it. He was very thoughtful and thorough.

How could she think about getting involved with Hoop? Would he even want to after that?

Being sick was just the beginning. Her body was going to change and if the chapters she’d skipped ahead to read in her pregnancy book were any indication, some of the stuff was not going to be pleasant.

“I’m sorry.”

“Why?”

“I can’t do this to you. You don’t want to be friends with a pregnant lady, Hoop. I’ve read the books and it’s just going to get worse.”

He put his hand on the back of her neck and rubbed in a soft circular motion. “Too late. I’m not going to let you keep backing away. We’ve already decided to give this a try.”

“We did?” she asked. She didn’t think they’d done that but she wasn’t ready to walk away from him yet.

“And you don’t strike me as someone who backs down. I mean, I saw you cheering on your team in enemy country.”

She smiled, even though she didn’t want to. And then wondered why she didn’t want to. Did she have to punish herself because she’d made a mistake with this man? Was that why she was trying so hard to find any reason not to be with him.

She leaned forward, putting her forehead on his chest and her arms around his waist. She could tell she startled him because his hand dropped to his side and then he wrapped his arms around her.

She held him and didn’t say anything. Just took comfort from this man who she really didn’t know what to do with. And right now, as crappy as she was feeling, she didn’t want to have to figure it out or worry about the future. She just needed…Hoop.

She lifted her head, staring up into those brilliant blue eyes of his and he put his hands on her head, tucked the long strand of her bangs back behind her ear.

He tangled their fingers together and turned so they were facing the exit. “Let’s go.”

“Go where?”

“Somewhere we can be alone,” he said.

She wanted to be the woman she saw when he looked at her. Someone who was strong. Strong enough to make the right choices and to own up to the world if she didn’t.

They’d caught a cab to Red Roosters in Harlem because Cici was hungry and somehow taking her back to his place had bad idea written all over it. Kissing her had changed something inside of him. Watching her run away to be sick had been a pretty clear reminder of her circumstances.

She needed a friend and he’d offered.

It wasn’t one he’d made lightly though. His hormones were doing their damnedest to convince him that friends with benefits was a good idea, but he knew she needed just a friend. She was on her own with the baby. And he knew how fragile that could be. He’d seen it as an adult and lived through it as a child.

And she had seemed to lose some of her glow after she’d gotten sick. Who could blame her? So, he sat in a corner booth across from her and asked her about baseball.

“You are a crazy massive fan of baseball,” he said, taking a sip of his sweet tea. He needed something to cool him down but it wasn’t the heat in the city that had him on fire. It was Cici.

Her hair kept curling around her face and she tucked the same strand behind her ear repeatedly. That strand. It had been soft and silky to the touch. Just like her lips. He wanted to kiss her again but he was being cool. She’d worn contacts today and he noticed how pretty her eyes were.

But he was honoring her desire for them to be friends. Plus, he knew she needed more from him than just full on guy hormones. She needed comfort and to feel normal. He’d not been around pregnant women much. One of his sisters at the Fillions’ foster home had a baby last year but she lived in Florida now with her husband so he hadn’t seen her while she’d been expecting.

Just from watching Cici, he noticed how much it drained her. She’d been pale when she’d come out of the bathroom and shaken. The way she’d hugged him…she needed him.

No one had ever really needed him. He volunteered, of course, and he knew the kids he was a big brother to really appreciated it, but he had never felt as needed with them as he had with Cici this afternoon. This had felt more personal.

“I am a pretty intense fan when it comes to the Red Sox,” she admitted. “One year I went to spring training.”