The Third Baseman (The New York Lions #1)

by Lulu Moore

Stars. Even from this distance, I could make out dozens of stars running up and down his heavily muscled arms, all different sizes, before disappearing under the fabric. Stars in between – I squinted – were they planets? Words? Squiggles?

It’s gonna be my number, Star. Five. I’m the fifth planet. And then he’d kissed me, and I forgot anything after that.

The Jupiter I’d known with his dimples, winks, and toothy grins was impossible to deny. The Jupiter with the tattoos and arrogance, all man and muscle, was becoming harder to ignore. A combination of the two was deadly. And it was anyone’s guess how much longer I’d be able to hold out.

“I’ll tell you what, you teach me all about the stars, and I’ll teach you about baseball.”

“I want to learn about baseball?”

“Sure you do. You’ll want to understand it for all the times you’...

Marnie was looking at me now – like I was the answer to every question she’d ever asked. It engulfed me until I couldn’t breathe. Until my heart was pumping so hard I was convinced I was having a seizure. And if I’d had a mirror, I’d have found the exact same expression on my face, too. Because if I was the question, Marnie Matthews was my answer.

After a minute, he pointed up to the sky. “You know how people say stuff is written in the stars? Do you think we are?” I watched them twinkling above us, one shooting across the sky. “Written in the stars?” “Yeah,” he whispered as he dropped a kiss on my head. “That we belong to each other. I’m yours, and you’re mine.”

“Tell me who your pussy belongs to. Who it’s always belonged to.” “You, Jupiter… always you.” “Mine is going to be the only name you ever scream again. Understand?”

Later, much later, I fell asleep listening to Marnie nestled into my chest breathing in and out for the first time since I was eighteen years old. And my world righted itself.

“I know I broke your heart, Marn, but I broke mine, too. Believe me I did.”

I’d never been out on a date, not a proper one. Dates were for girlfriends, for women you planned to see again. And I couldn’t fucking wait to date the shit out of Marnie.

I found the delicate stretch of skin just above her collar bone and kissed it, whispering, “Marn, please don’t wear that dress. I won’t be held responsible for my actions if you do. And that includes murdering any guy who so much as glances your way.” She took a deep breath and silently went to change, but not before I caught the smirk crowning her lips.

“Fourteen years, three months, and thirteen days, Marnie. That's how many days I've loved you, and you've been my first and last thought for every single fucking one. So I guess the question is whether you’re going to let me.”

“Hello, Marnie Matthews.” I blinked away the emotion in my eyes. “Hey.” He held his hand out. “I caught you a ball.” I took it, soaking in the soft smile as he looked down at me. I wanted to bathe in this feeling forever; warm and glowy, and perfect. “Thank you.” “Nice shirt.”