2. Emerson

At the sound of keys jingling in the lock, I set the wooden spoon on the counter and jogged for the door, bumping my shoulder on the archway when I slipped past. As I swung it open, Gianna's big brown eyes widened and her keys landed with a clink on the gray carpet of the building's hallway. She blinked twice before her expression morphed into a scowl.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded, like I was the one out of place when in fact she was the one that just left New York to move up to Boston.

Chuckling, I crouched and picked up the keys by the silver baseball bat key ring. "I know." I tossed them at my roommate's sister, and after a quick bobble, they were firmly in her palm. "I wonder how I get to live here too."

Stepping back, I waved her inside.

I shouldn't play into the nothing in my brain assumption, but correcting people was pointless. Plus, it was true. I had been playing pro baseball for just over a year and I still hadn't gotten used to my new status. It was wild to me that I lived in a two-thousand-square-foot apartment with a stellar view of Boston Harbor, a doorman, and people who carted our shit around. It seemed more like a fleeting dream than my reality, and I wasn't sure that would ever change.

"I thought you'd be out with the team, bar hopping or whatever." Again, her snippy tone seemed to imply that I wasn't allowed in my own apartment.

"Nah. Come in." I nodded at the guy in the maroon coat standing behind her in the hall. "If you leave it all here," I said to him, tipping my chin at the three bags, two enormous suitcases, one box, and the weird narrow, flat bag, "I'll get it."

"I can do it." Gianna crossed her arms under her ample tits, the move pushing them up into the scoop of the purple sweater.

I forced my eyes up to her face, which was set in a glare, her attention firmly fixed on me.

For the life of me, I had no idea why I loved that glare so much. Clearly, I was a glutton for punishment. From the moment I met the woman, the daggers she shot my way had settled firmly in my stomach, making my body come alive. But I'd worked hard to ignore the sensation, even though I wasn't normally a man who overlooked the possibility of pleasure. What I was, though, was loyal, and she was my best friend's sister and she was spoken for. Even if Chris and their pop kept calling the guy she was with a shitty human being, it was her choice, not theirs. I'd never met the dude, so I had no room to judge, and I couldn't imagine she didn't care about him, because a woman as strong-willed, talented, and sexy as Gianna could have her pick of guys.

"I'm sure you can carry all your bags alone"—I smiled again when she looked like she might snarl at me—"but I hate being a dick. And if I left you to lug around all your shit into the apartment alone, that's exactly what I would be." I shrugged. "I know it's selfish and assholey of me, but you'll just have to take one for the team and let me be a gentleman."

She blinked those big brown eyes flocked by the longest lashes I'd ever seen twice. "Uh…"

I loved confusing her almost as much as I loved her glare. Yeah, there was definitely something wrong with me.

"Excuse me." The man behind her gently prompted Gianna to move into the apartment so he could unload the bags.

"Thanks, man." I slipped my hand into my back pocket to pull out my wallet, but before I could pull a few bills out, she handed him a small wad of cash. Chris, my roommate, had told me to take care of it. But I had no interest in fighting about stupid shit like her brother would. If she wanted to tip the guy, then more power to her.

The door closed, and the rush of air sent her floral scent my way. It took more strength than I'd like to admit to fight the responding shiver that wanted to rush through me. Orange blossoms. The woman always smelled like citrus blooms. And damn if my dick didn't notice.

Nope. Ignore that shit, Emerson. After yesterday's game, Chris had told me that his sister needed a place to crash for a few weeks. And since my best friend spent 90 percent of his time at his girlfriend's apartment, he was more than happy to let Gianna stay in his empty room. As much of an ass as the guy pretended to be, he had a heart of gold, especially when it came to the people he cared about. And his sister fell into the top three of that list. Although he thought I'd be annoyed, I was thrilled about my new living arrangements. Not that I'd admit it to him.

"I'm so excited you're here. Bring it in." I opened my arms.

I was a hugger, and I was an asshole using this moment as an excuse to touch the woman whose curves had haunted my thoughts for months.

With a step back, she glared at me. "What?"

I waggled my brows. "Let's hug it out." Moving toward her, I doubled down.

She crossed her arms and shook her head. "No."

I'd known this woman for years, but even now, I wasn't sure if she was like Chris and didn't like to be touched, or if she just didn't like the idea of touching me. Either possibility sucked.

"Your loss. I'm an A-plus hugger." I dropped my arms to my sides and went for her bags, watching my steps and moving carefully. The last thing I wanted was to make an ass of myself in front of the goddess in my foyer.

I made the first trip to her room without incident, but by trip number three, my mind was wandering to thoughts of dinner, my family and the call I'd promise to make, the next episode of the show I'd started last night, my contract issues, my roommate, and tomorrow's game.

As all those thoughts swirled in my mind, the bag I was carrying knocked into the doorframe, sending me bumping back against the door, which caused it to go flying against the stopper stuck to the wall behind it. As a loud thunk echoed, I held back a grimace.

Instead, I smiled wide. "Let's get the base pumping." This was my go-to reaction, joking and making the best of my inability to pay attention to whatever the fuck I was doing.

Gianna didn't even crack a smile as she stepped through the doorway. Instead, she scanned her temporary room with narrowed eyes and a tight jaw.

As she assessed the space, I took her in. She always looked so damn good.

I snorted quietly at the lackluster word. Sinful. That was better. She was all smooth skin and fuck-me curves. The fitted purple sweater hugged her full tits in a way that had the buttons down the front looking like they could pop with just a flick of my finger. The fabric ended at her stomach, playing a wonderfully awful game of peek-a-boo with her belly button. Her wide hips and that fucking ass encased in tight black leggings tempted me to do terrible things. I bit back a groan. I had no right to fantasize about her ass the way I did.

Taken.

I silently chastised myself, like I did every time I was near her. The woman had a boyfriend, and I respected that. The boyfriend was a safe buffer. No matter how hot Gianna was, no matter how badly my body begged to be near hers, I wouldn't cross that line. Which was good, because Christian would rearrange my pretty face if he had even an inkling that I had jacked off to thoughts of his sister. I got it. I wouldn't want a guy like me screwing around with one of my sisters either.

"Emerson?" My name on her lips almost sounded like a snarl, yet tingles shot through my extremities. Damn, why did everything about this chick need to be such a fucking temptation?

"Mariposa?" I cocked a brow, not bothering to fight a smile as she glared at the nickname I was fairly certain she didn't understand.

"Is my brother using my bedding?"

Oh. That was the reason for the frown.

"No." I shook my head. "I changed the sheets and stuff earlier. I wasn't sure what time you'd get in, and if it was late, I didn't want you to have to deal with doing it."

A small crease appeared between her brows as she looked from the bed to me. The movement caused her silky brown hair to float around her tits and sent another blast of orange blossom wafting my way.

"You…" The word died on her tongue, and she frowned again.

From the moment I met her, every kind gesture I'd directed toward her was met with some form of cactus-like prickles.

"Anyway, sorry if I didn't get it right." I rubbed at the back of my neck. "You probably would have done it better. I've never quite understood what hospital corners meant. I always just do the quick tuck and go. Just like a girdle."

Like a girdle? What the fuck was I saying? Gianna's presence always left me off-kilter. I had to get out of the room before she could get worked up and pull out all that sass. If I didn't, I'd do something stupid like tell her she was so pretty it made my chest hurt.

Without my permission, my eyes zeroed in on her round ass, and instantly, my dick got heavy in my jeans. Shaking the image from my head, I turned to the door.

It was going to be a long fucking month, and yet I couldn't stop myself from smiling about it.