Ghosts (A Christian Yelich Story)

Chapter Seventeen: You Know, Like a Lady

Author's Note: Thank you for all the votes and dazzling comments. I just got soaked outside of Miller Park after the Brewers' game tonight, so they warmed my frigid heart.

This is going to be a SUPER smutty and dramatic story with a side of potential character development, so if you're into that stick around. Since there's not a lot of Yelich smut on Wattpad, you're welcome to suggest ideas. I can't promise I'll use them, but I'll definitely consider!

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His lips were against mine, and my brain was telling me to push him away. We shouldn't be doing this when there was the chance to be caught on film. It was too risky. It would allow the producers to build a narrative to use against us. And he could lose female fans . . . They wouldn't want to see him with me. I knew he had to have a bunch of them . . .

But, to my frustration, I couldn't push him away. I wanted him so much. I wanted him too much. I barely knew anything about him, but there was definitely something loud happening between us. I don't know if I'd ever felt this sort of instant attraction before; I was usually much more careful.

I don't think we have much of anything in common, apart from living in the same places, but it felt good and it felt right. With Asher, I felt like I was constantly trying to please him and be the person he wanted me to be. With Christian, I could just exist as me.

Maybe I was getting ahead of myself. We had only known each other for three days. We were just trying to figure each other out. He could still transform into an asshole. Men are always so nice at first . . .

When I felt his tongue attempt to part my lips, I gently placed a hand on his chest to signal that he should stop. He did. Immediately.

"What's wrong?" he asked. He looked and sounded concerned, and that made my heart skip a beat.

"I just worry about creating a narrative for the show. I don't want them to highlight our relationship and use it against us. You know?"

"What narrative do you think they'll create?"

"That I'm a giant slut toying with two men's hearts. They can do so much in the editing room. You have no idea."

Christian settled on his side facing me. "I understand your fears, but I'd defend you."

"I don't want to hurt our careers."

"You won't hurt mine. This has nothing to do with baseball."

"But your fans? I don't want your female fans to resent me. I feel like I'd be hurting them in some strange way. I don't want to do that."

Christian smiled and shook his head. "Asher has female fans. They're all fine, right? He's still making movies."

I nodded – I guess he had a point.

"I could be wrong, but are you maybe just scared this might actually turn into a thing? And you're trying to come up with excuses to prevent it from working?"

"A thing?" I asked.

"Yeah, like a relationship . . ." he replied, sounding unsure of himself.

"I just don't want to let ABC manufacture a relationship for me. I want this to be one hundred percent us."

Christian sighed heavily. I could tell he was getting a little irritated. "Why don't you try to forget all of these obstacles and just let this happen? I know it's a risk, but I'm on board. Let's not overthink it."

"Because the fallout will land on me. Not on you!" I exclaimed, with a bit more anger than I would have liked. "I'll be the slutty actress who ruined the sweet, All-American ball player."

"Hey," Christian whispered calmly. "It's okay. I get why you're worried. Please don't be upset."

I got up and started to pace around the room. "Can we make a pros and cons list?"

Christian looked at me with an expression of utter confusion. "A pros and cons list of what?"

"Us," I said sharply.

Christian laughed. "Come on, Annie. Pro: It'd make us both feel good. Con: Who gives a fuck?"

I shut my eyes for a moment. "I just don't want to get us in trouble."

Christian stood up. "Listen, I can't promise that this will end perfectly, but I want to try. Let's use these two weeks to see how we fit together." He stood in front of me and grabbed my hands.

I looked up at him. "Okay."

"Okay?" He smiled.

"Yes, but there are rules."

"Tell me all about these rules." He smirked and started to pull me toward the bed.

"No sex until the cameras are off at 4:00 am."

Christian rolled his eyes, as he pulled me into bed on top of him. "They can't even show anything on network television. Plus, we've already implied we've had sex via conversation like twenty times. Like right now for starters."

"No sex until after 4:00 am," I repeated sternly. "We then have a twelve hour window. That's plenty of time to do all the dirty stuff you're thinking up in your gross head."

"Fiiiiiiine," he whined. "What about dry humping?" he asked, switching our positions and straddling and grinding against me. "Technically not sex."

I flicked his forehead with my finger. "No."

He smiled at me. "Kissing?" he asked before leaning down and kissing my neck.

I laughed. "Only on the face."

He brought his face up to mine. "With tongue?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

I considered his question for a moment. "I guess I'll let you have that one."

"Well, at least that's something." He proceeded with another kiss – this time being pretty forceful with his tongue.

"You're actually the nerd," I said as he broke away.

"Totally," he agreed.

He moved from on top of me to next to me. "So we can kiss, hug, and hold hands, from 4:00 pm to 4:00 am like a proper middle school relationship, and I can do whatever I want to you from 4:00 am to 4:00 pm? Am I understanding this arrangement correctly?" He gave me a big, goofy grin.

"You're such a troll."

"I'm waking you up at 4:00 am on the dot. You're in for a treat." He paused and then smirked again. "Probably butt stuff," he joked. Well, maybe it was a joke?

I rolled my eyes at him and then grabbed my book off the nightstand. "I only do butt stuff after a first date. You know, like a lady."