Do Players Fall In Love?

Chapter 32.

Chapter 32.

TAYLOR'S P. O. V.

After changing into shorts because I was feeling a bit heated, I decide to tidy up my room. It's not much of a mess and Zach has been here when it was worse than this, but I have an impulse to impress him almost. God, I'm being stupid. I ditch the idea and throw myself on my bed, watching my new Netflix obsession instead.

I get through an entire episode and a half, when I finally hear footsteps reaching my door. There's a small knock, and the door opens to reveal a soft-looking Zach. He has his glasses on, with sweatpants and a gray hoodie. His hair is still wet and his quiff is messy, but he looks gorgeous nonetheless.

"Hello, darling." He says it almost jokingly, but that doesn't stop the smile forming on my lips. He reaches my bed and leans down to connect our lips, but I'm practically giggling with giddiness that I can't kiss him properly. "Stop," Zach pinches my hip, trying but failing to hide his smile as well, "kiss me already."

I happily oblige and kiss him in greeting. This could be quite possibly my favorite Zach, soft hums and even softer lips. He pulls away and mutters, "If you get me sick..."

I scoff as he makes his way around my bed to the other side. "I'm not getting sick, darling."

"Your lips are warm." He settles down on the previously empty spot aside of me.

I argue with, "Yeah? And? So were yours." Zach brushes my bottom lip with his thumb, then rests his hand on my forehead. He tusks, "Seems like my baby is running a fever."

I slap my head down on his forehead in a mocking manner. "Seems like my baby is running a fever."

"I can't get sick from you. Baseball tryouts are-"

My hand flips from his head to his mouth, blocking any other slew of nonsense bound to come out. My leg swings over him and I settle myself on his lap in one fluid motion.

"You have to leave then. You can't kiss me, or even be near me, really." His eyes are noticeably wider as they flick from my face to my hand repeatedly and his cheeks are noticeably pinker. "I can't risk getting the four-balled, beauty-stricken jock sick, now can I?"

Inevitably, his tongue flicks out to wet my palm and I furiously wipe the excess saliva on his t-shirt. Before I can call him gross in six different ways, he rushes forward to meet my mouth. My annoyance melts away along with the rest of my thoughts.

There's always such strong emotions flowing in me when we kiss. It's not something that can be described by just words, it has meaning and feeling behind it that couldn't ever be explained even by the most thoughtful author. It's a perfect harmony of movement as I take slow drags from his lips. For the first time, I'm on top, and I have total dominance. He tries to take it away from me, but he has to know that he's not getting it, he has to.

It's my tongue that's takes it a small step further, sliding easily between his lips. There's not much exploring left to be done, I've already memorized the taste and crevices of his mouth. His hands trace my legs and travel to my thighs. Thankfully, I changed into shorts just before he came so I can revel in the touch of his fingertips. This has become so simple for us, so natural. It's a small movement, it could go undetected, but I definitely felt the small roll of his hips into mine.

My hands fist the material lying on his chest and I quickly bury my face into his neck. I panicked, it was stupid and I regret pulling away immediately, but previous fear creeps in me and I'm too embarrassed to look at him. The memories left as fast as they came, and I'm left breathless with strong heart beat beneath me.