Chapter 17
SEVENTEEN
HARLEY
Once the waiter drops our dishes off, I stare down at it, not surprised at all that it looks as delicious as it does. This place may only be about half an hour from campus, but it’s in a town I’ve never been to before.
“Wow, this looks incredible,” I say, practically salivating over the pasta in front of me.
“My mom loves this place,” Cane answers without even realizing how adorable it is that he’s talking about his mom right now.
I mean, it may not be an actual date—because that’s a no-no in my book—but we’re at a semi-upscale restaurant, and my hair is straightened.
I even wore my new top that I had gotten a few weeks ago when I was out shopping with Haven.
So, it’s the closest thing to a date without actually being one that I’ve seen.
“You know, aside from a few comments on my latest video, asking if I’m dating a baseball player, no one really seems to know we’re friends.
” I twirl some pasta onto my fork. “And I was checking out your comment section earlier, and while I do think it’s dying down, you still have more negative than nice ones. ”
He cringes. “Yeah, I deleted the app from my phone. That way, I wouldn’t look.”
Taking a bite, I roll my eyes at him and wipe my mouth.
“Well, dumbass, if this is going to work, you’re going to have to redownload it so that I can tag you in something and you can repost it.
” I stop, eyeing him over. “I mean, a deal is a deal. And while I very much appreciate the fact that you paid for my prescriptions—especially since, if not, I wouldn’t be eating this amazing pasta—aside from me bidding on you, I haven’t done anything on my end to showcase this fake friendship of ours. ”
When the waiter comes to check on us, I smile sweetly at him.
“Do you mind taking our picture?”
“Absolutely,” he says, holding his hand out until I set my phone in it. “Gotta get a picture of the best dinner spot with one of the greatest-looking couples I’ve seen.” He winks.
Even though Cane is surely not going to correct him, I shake my head.
“We’re just friends,” I say.
Right away, his eyes light up. I know I messed up because now, he probably thinks I’m coming onto him or something.
Positioning our bodies toward him, we hold our glasses up and smile.
“All right, say linguini,” he chimes, and we both do, even though I feel like a weirdo.
“I took a few,” he says, handing my phone back to me. “Do you two need anything else for now?”
“No thanks,” we both reply, and he walks away.
Taking another bite of my pasta, I practically moan.
“My God, that’s so good.” I sigh. “Why does it have to be so bad for me? I kinda want to bathe in that sauce too.”
“That’s … actually gross.” He chuckles.
After wiping my mouth, I waste no more time before I begin digging through the pictures to see which is best. Flipping back and forth, I decide on one and hold it in front of Cane for him to look at.
“Wow, he wasn’t kidding.” He smirks. “We are a sexy couple.”
“He didn’t say that.” I groan, pulling my phone back. “And we are not a couple.” Looking down at the picture, I nod. “This is the one. I’m going to post it to my stories and tag you.” My eyes lift to his. “Which means you need to log in and repost.”
He simply stares at me for a moment before he points his fork downward. “Let me finish my steak, woman. And then I will. Deal?”
“I’ll allow it, but only because I want to finish my pasta too,” I say matter-of-factly. “Even if I do end up needing another shot, at least the carb load will have been worthy of it.”
He smiles at me, and I hate how much I freaking like it. His white teeth flash, and my eyes float to his dimple. My heart flip-flops, and I want to scream inwardly at myself to stop being so pathetic. He’s just a guy. An attractive, charming guy.
That’s it.
That’s all.
CANE
We walk back to my truck, and I instantly regret parking so far down the street from the restaurant when I see Harley shiver. The thin sweater she threw on when we walked out isn’t doing shit for this chilly October night—that’s for sure.
Peeling my jacket off, I drape it over her shoulders without even thinking twice. It catches her off guard, and she quickly turns her body slightly toward me.
“Oh …” She looks from me to the jacket. “You didn’t have to do that. The truck’s just down over the hill. Besides, now you’ll be cold.”
“I’ll be fine, Catch,” I murmur, continuing to walk with her beside me.
I want to sling my arm around her and pull her against my body. That would make her warmer, but it would probably piss her off too.
Me, on the other hand? I’d enjoy it. Maybe a little too much.
“How is your level after all the pasta?” I ask her, knowing that she had to be mindful of what she ate for dinner to make sure she wouldn’t have a spike.
Holding her phone up, she shows me the numbers on the screen.
“I’ll have to give myself a shot. I didn’t put in a new Omnipod yet, and I’m a little high right now.
” She snorts. “Not the good kind either.” She laughs at her joke but then flashes me a cheesy grin.
“I’m kidding. I wouldn’t know anything about being high. I just couldn’t miss the opportunity.”
The more time we spend together, the more her silly side comes out, and I like it because that means she’s getting comfortable with me.
I’m thankful when we reach my truck, and I quickly open the passenger door to let her in before I jog around to the other side and get in myself.
Once the truck is running and the heat is on, she removes my jacket and passes it to me. “Thank you,” she says softly. “I’m not going to lie; I was pretty cold. My teeth were chattering.”
“Trust me, I heard,” I tease, tossing it into the back seat.
Reaching into her purse, she grabs her supplies. First a wipe to clean the area and then the syringe. Turning it a few clicks, she starts to reach for her shirt.
“That must have hurt a little,” I say, my eyes widening. “I mean, it’s in your skin. And you … literally ripped something out of it earlier today.”
“Eh, no biggie.” She shrugs, smirking. “Happens sometimes.”
Before she has time to go any further with her shot of insulin, I stop her.
“Hey,” I blurt out. “I’m not a fan of needles—at all.
So I’m sure I wouldn’t be any good at it, but …
would it be weird if I did it? You could, like, explain it to me step by step?
You know, just in case I ever need to give you an injection.
” I’m talking fast—too fast. But fuck, she makes me nervous, and she probably thinks I’m a weirdo for asking. “You don’t have to. I just—"
Reaching over, she pats my hand. “Relax.” She giggles. “And sure. If we’re going to be friends—”
“Best friends, I’d say,” I add in playfully. “You know, to really sell it to everyone that you like me.”
She rolls her eyes, but her smile grows as she hands me the syringe. Lifting her hair up, she pushes it out of the way and tugs her shirt down over her shoulder, exposing the back of her upper arm.
“First, grab a hunk of skin,” she whispers before pointing to a spot. “Right there is good. There’s a bit of fat.”
With my other hand, I pinch her skin together.
I’ve pitched in games when it was all on the line and gone up to bat with two outs in the final inning, knowing I could be the final out for my team, yet I’ve never let the nerves get to me. Right now, knowing I could hurt her?
I’m feeling nervous as fuck.
But I can’t shake or tremble because then it’ll hurt her.
“Just relax,” she whispers. “I promise, it’s not going to hurt me. Well, it might. But I’m pretty tough.”
Bringing the needle closer, I think I hold my breath when it presses into her skin. I push down on the plunger, feeling like I may pass out.
“Okay,” I utter, trying to keep my voice from quivering, not wanting to freak her out. “Now I wait a few seconds, right?”
“Mmhmm.” She nods. “Like, five more would be fine.”
In my head, I count down from five before pulling it from her flesh.
Over her shoulder, she peeks at me. “Good job.” She flashes me a sweet smile. “For a man who doesn’t like needles, I think you did great. Five stars. Would come here again.”
With the needle still in my hand, I can’t seem to move. Instead, my eyes stay locked on hers.
“Thanks,” I mutter, my heart still thumping in my chest. “I had a good patient. I think that’s probably the only reason why I’m getting the high rating.”
Her bare shoulder is still exposed, and the way she’s looking at me … my being this close to her—fuck, I just want to kiss her. I know I shouldn’t want to, and I know I can’t, but damn it, I’d give anything to be able to.
Our eyes stay locked, and my pulse quickens when she bites her bottom lip. I swallow harshly, moving barely an inch closer, not wanting to scare her by doing it too fast.
Before I can think about moving even closer though, she takes the syringe from me and covers its tip before tucking it away. Fixing her shirt, she doesn’t turn back toward me again, and I know right now, I need to stop thinking about kissing the catcher’s plump lips.
I’m a guy who has always hated needles, and yet I just asked Harley to teach me how to give an insulin injection because if she ever needs me to, I want to be prepared.
“You know what we should do?” she says suddenly, a little smirk tugging at her lips.
“What’s that?” I murmur, hoping she says get naked because that would be fucking great. Though, I’d settle just to kiss her, in all honesty.
“We should do one of those trends with the music in the background for your socials.” She lifts her brows up and down a few times. “Since, you know … our followers will love it.”
I study her face for a moment before I chuckle. “All right, Catch. Tell me what to do and I’ll do it.”
She pulls her phone out and taps her fingers on the screen. After studying something for a few moments, she smiles at me. “We have to get someone to record us. This one will be hilarious.”