Post by Dabeagle on Feb 27, 2018 0:03:06 GMT -5
Takes place after 'Learning to Fall'
“So, ready for your senior year?” I asked Nate as we lounged on my bed, bingeing on the next season of Stranger Things. The episode had just ended and I wasn't sure we'd squeeze another one in.
“Sure, it's just school,” he replied. “Is college any different, really?”
I shrugged, my shoulder bumping against his. “The professors just tell you what they want but they don't chase you or anything. It's nice not to have them hanging over you, I guess.”
“I bet you know more than your music teacher,” Nate said as he rolled toward me and grinned.
“He seems impressed with me,” I admitted. Nate reached over and stroked my fingers as they lay flat on my stomach. Beneath our hands butterflies fluttered in my stomach as they frequently did when my boyfriend touched me.
“I love your hands. Did you always want to be a piano player?” he asked guilelessly.
I lifted an eyebrow at him. “Piano player? You make me sound like I belong in an old west bar plucking out Oh Susannah!” I laughed as he smiled back at me and pushed a finger into my stomach and making me jump.
“Come on, El. Did you always like music?”
He flashed his eyes at me and I melted. “My dad was always big into music. He took my mom and me to music festivals and concerts. He bought me piano lessons at some absurdly early age. I'm not sure music was so much of an interest for me as I grew up breathing it. It just seemed natural to me.”
“I love it when you play,” he said and slipped his fingers between mine.
“Do you like...my kisses better or my music?” I asked, teasing.
He scrunched his lips and moved them to the side in response, pretending to consider.
“What about you? Did you always want to be a baseball player?” I asked, letting him off the hook.
“Well, I've always liked sports but baseball always spoke to me, I guess.” Nate looked away and smiled, a sad smile.
“What?” I asked, stroking the side of his face.
He shook his head and sighed. “Just a funny story my mom liked to tell.”
“I want to hear it,” I told him. He turned toward me and smiled, no longer sad.
“It's silly. I guess I was about four and my mom walked into the kitchen and I was in there with a carton of eggs. Pitching. I guess there was quite a mess on the wall and floor.”
“Oh my God,” I said with a gasp and then burst out laughing. He smiled at me, enjoying my laughter. “You're mother must have kicked your butt.”
“Yeah, she was pissed. I don't remember the pitching, but I do remember the butt whipping that came after,” he sigh with a chuckle.
“Is that why you play third base instead of pitcher?” I asked. I waited for his gaze to meet mine and I said, “Cause' I don't mind your pitching.”
He glanced toward the door and back at me. “What about your mom?”
“I think I'm not sharing my boyfriend with her in that sense,” I said and broke down in giggles. I glanced at the clock and then back to him. “She went to bed. You're staying over, right?”
He chuckled and slid over a bit, pushing down on me slightly and looking down at my face. It wasn't dominant, not aggressive and yet it was very sexy. He kissed me and I kissed him back. Then, we played pitcher and catcher. Fuck his coach, Nate can throw some damn heat!
“So, ready for your senior year?” I asked Nate as we lounged on my bed, bingeing on the next season of Stranger Things. The episode had just ended and I wasn't sure we'd squeeze another one in.
“Sure, it's just school,” he replied. “Is college any different, really?”
I shrugged, my shoulder bumping against his. “The professors just tell you what they want but they don't chase you or anything. It's nice not to have them hanging over you, I guess.”
“I bet you know more than your music teacher,” Nate said as he rolled toward me and grinned.
“He seems impressed with me,” I admitted. Nate reached over and stroked my fingers as they lay flat on my stomach. Beneath our hands butterflies fluttered in my stomach as they frequently did when my boyfriend touched me.
“I love your hands. Did you always want to be a piano player?” he asked guilelessly.
I lifted an eyebrow at him. “Piano player? You make me sound like I belong in an old west bar plucking out Oh Susannah!” I laughed as he smiled back at me and pushed a finger into my stomach and making me jump.
“Come on, El. Did you always like music?”
He flashed his eyes at me and I melted. “My dad was always big into music. He took my mom and me to music festivals and concerts. He bought me piano lessons at some absurdly early age. I'm not sure music was so much of an interest for me as I grew up breathing it. It just seemed natural to me.”
“I love it when you play,” he said and slipped his fingers between mine.
“Do you like...my kisses better or my music?” I asked, teasing.
He scrunched his lips and moved them to the side in response, pretending to consider.
“What about you? Did you always want to be a baseball player?” I asked, letting him off the hook.
“Well, I've always liked sports but baseball always spoke to me, I guess.” Nate looked away and smiled, a sad smile.
“What?” I asked, stroking the side of his face.
He shook his head and sighed. “Just a funny story my mom liked to tell.”
“I want to hear it,” I told him. He turned toward me and smiled, no longer sad.
“It's silly. I guess I was about four and my mom walked into the kitchen and I was in there with a carton of eggs. Pitching. I guess there was quite a mess on the wall and floor.”
“Oh my God,” I said with a gasp and then burst out laughing. He smiled at me, enjoying my laughter. “You're mother must have kicked your butt.”
“Yeah, she was pissed. I don't remember the pitching, but I do remember the butt whipping that came after,” he sigh with a chuckle.
“Is that why you play third base instead of pitcher?” I asked. I waited for his gaze to meet mine and I said, “Cause' I don't mind your pitching.”
He glanced toward the door and back at me. “What about your mom?”
“I think I'm not sharing my boyfriend with her in that sense,” I said and broke down in giggles. I glanced at the clock and then back to him. “She went to bed. You're staying over, right?”
He chuckled and slid over a bit, pushing down on me slightly and looking down at my face. It wasn't dominant, not aggressive and yet it was very sexy. He kissed me and I kissed him back. Then, we played pitcher and catcher. Fuck his coach, Nate can throw some damn heat!
