The feel of Parker’s smile in both my hands is a pretty genuine thing. “Okay,” she breathes out. “From the beginning. Even though I let you slide into third base.”

With my thumb, I free her lip she’s sucked between her teeth. “Quit biting that lip, or you’ll find me at the plate again.”

Parker very dramatically bites her lip.

“Was that something you enjoyed?” I ask, tugging it free once more.

“Did you enjoy it?” she retorts.

“You must be kidding. You touched me for all of eight seconds, and I came in my underwear.” I shut my eyes at the memory. “You don’t know the kind of restraint I had to muster up. But I wanted it to be about you. Not what you could give to me.”

Parker reaches out with her free hand, cupping my cheek. Her face softens, and something in the air shifts between us. It goes from sexy and flirty to emotional and intimate.

It’s a really good fucking moment. It happens to be the kind of moment I want to have when I slide into her for the first time.

But not yet.

“Okay,” she says. “I guess it’s time I date my husband.”

I take back everything. Nothing beats this moment. Except kissing her after it.

Parker laughs against my mouth. “I kind of feel all…giddy.”

I’m relieved I don’t have to shoulder the burden of silently carrying the giddiness around alone. “I know. I feel like I’m seventeen, if I’m being honest.”

As soon as the words leave my mouth, I away and reach for my phone, opening my email.

“What’s this?” Parker asks as I pass the device to her. “I’m not an alum,” she reminds me.

“I am. Come with me.”

“Are you asking me on a date to a high school reunion?”

Tossing my phone to the bed, I pull her off it, wrapping my arms around her waist. “I told you, if there wasn’t anything fake about this, our first date would’ve been somewhere meaningful.”

The night of the bleachers now holds a different memory for me, one I wasn’t a part of, but maybe one I’ll be haunted by. But while that might’ve been the last time Parker visited the spot, it wasn’t mine.

And that visit, she’ll see, was meaningful.

For a moment, Parker says nothing. It might be meaningful in theory, but maybe I’ve crossed a line.

“We don’t have to⁠—"

“No.” Parker nods. “Let’s go.”

Our hold on each other is broken only by the sound of the buzzer outside our suite.

Parker twists out of my hold. “I ordered breakfast.”