He straddles his bike, kicks up the kickstand, and nods for me to hop on the back. Still new at the whole bike thing, I take my time getting on, making sure not to tip us both over only for the heavy machinery to fall on us. Once I'm situated, I slip my arms around Carter's waist, loving the way I can feel his stomach muscles contract under my hold.

"Ready?" he asks, the visor of his helmet still up.

"Ready." I grip him tighter.

He flips his visor down, revs the engine, and in seconds, has us speeding down the road toward the highway.

The wind whips by us, his cologne clogging my senses, putting me in a lustful fog where only Carter and I exist, everything else around us is at a standstill.

This man, he makes me feel exhilarated, like a new person. I wonder, does he feel the same way around me? Is he just as exhilarated, just as excited when he's around me?

It's almost impossible to think of myself being just as fascinating as Carter. The bitter bug of self-consciousness starts to rear its ugly head but I bite it back, willing myself to think positively. Carter would not come pick me up randomly, without warning, because he thought I was boring. I offer something to this friendship; I'm just not sure what it is quite yet.

CARTER.

Focus on the goddamn road. Stop thinking about Daisy, wrapped around your waist, her fingers dancing across your abs, her head resting against your back, and those tight-as-fuck jeans she's wearing.

Focus on driving the bike and not getting in an accident.

But hell, those jeans. The way her innocent eyes ate me up with excitement when she saw me. The way she practically bounced up and down with glee from the stupid sticker.

Why did I put a sticker on it in the first place? Because I saw it in one of those little quarter-candy machines at the grocery store.

Christ.

What am I even doing picking her up?

Who the hell am I kidding? I know exactly why I'm picking her up. I can't get her out of my head. I tried, fuck did I try hard. But every time I made the attempt to forget about her, somehow, someway, she found her way back into my mind, with that infectious smile and her thirst for life.

That's why I found myself driving toward her place, a new helmet with a goddamn daisy sticker on the front tucked in my bike, and a plan to help continue her pursuit to experience new things.

And hell, right about now, I'm not regretting that decision. Seeing her, after a few days of only feeding on the images in my head, was like a breath of fresh air. She renewed my spirit with one simple, yet gorgeous smile.

How is that even possible? That this woman, who knows nothing except how to be positive, can have such an effect on me? Maybe that's what I need in my life, a little positivity, even though the cards I've been dealt in this lifetime are pure shit.

Either way, for whatever reason, I crave to be around her right now. She's the only bright spot in my life. It might not be permanent-it can't be permanent-but I'm going to be a selfish bastard and soak her up as much as possible, because at least around her, I don't hate myself as much.

I just hope she likes my idea for today.

With her arms gripping me tightly, we fly down E-470 at eighty-five miles per hour, the dry, somewhat snow-covered Colorado landscape whizzing by us. We head north on the stretch of road toward Denver International Airport.

In a blur, we pass housing developments, shopping centers, and flat plains, dried grass peeking out from under the light snow on the ground. It's always said when you drive east in Colorado, you might as well be in Kansas because the terrain becomes extremely flat, very farm-like. It's true. If I weren't living in the city, I would live on the west side, near the mountains, where I can marvel at their size and expanse.

But the city will have to do for now.

I pull off at exit twenty-four and make a right off the highway, onto East Fifty-Sixth Ave. Farmland passes by, but it doesn't take us long to get to where I want to go, an empty lot in the middle of nowhere.

Once we arrive, I put the bike in park, pop the kickstand, and turn my head toward Daisy. "Swing around me."

"What?" she asks, confusion written all over her face.

Instead of explaining, I just force her into position myself. I grab her legs and swing her around until she's sitting on the little portion of the seat between me and the handle, her eyes looking straight into mine, her lips parted on a gasp.

"Goodness." Her legs drape over mine, and it's an intimate position that I don't mind one bit. Bastard. She's an innocent, for fuck's sake. Mind out of the gutter.

Needing a little breathing room-for some reason my body seems to heat up whenever I'm around her-I take off my helmet and toss it into the soft dirt a few feet from the bike. I can feel the heat of my head, my hair damp from the helmet. She removes hers as well, but carefully leans down to place it on the ground beside us.

"Do you think you can handle my bike?"

Her eyes widen, searching me to see if I'm telling the truth. "You mean, drive your bike?"

"Yeah. We have to learn something new. Why not learn how to drive a motorcycle?"

The idea came to me when I was thinking about how hot Daisy would look driving it. I had to make the dream a reality. Had to. Like I said, bastard.

She gulps hard, her hands resting at the base of my jacket, her fingers playing with the end. "Um, when we were told to learn something new, I was thinking of something more in line with learning a new knitting knot."

This comes as no surprise to me.

"That's too safe, Snowflake. You have to put yourself out there more. Knitting is in your wheelhouse, step outside your shell, like you've been trying to."

"By driving a motorcycle?" she asks, her voice rising with slight hysteria. "That seems a little extreme, don't you think?"

"Not at all." I smile and cup her face. How is her skin so soft? "I'll be behind you the whole time, guiding you."

"But I don't have a license to drive one. I don't want to get a ticket."

"You won't get a ticket. We're in the middle of nowhere. Now, are you going to grab life by the balls and do something unexpected, learn something new?"

She bites her bottom lip adorably as she thinks. "Well, I've never really grabbed anything by the balls. Even a man." Her face turns bright red. "Not that I want to grab a bunch of balls or anything, I just haven't done it before." Exhaling hard, she leans forward and says, "I hear when you grab a man's testicles, you have to be gentle because they're sensitive, is that true?"

My hand drops from her face, my head flies back, and a bark of a laugh comes out of me from the serious tone coming from her. Is she really asking me about "testicles" right now?

"What's so funny?" she asks, swatting my stomach. "That's a legitimate question."

"I don't know." I laugh some more. "Do you like it when your boobs are squeezed hard?"

If I didn't think her face could get any more red, I'd be wrong. She casts her eyes down and shakes her head. "I've, uh, never done the boob or testicle grabbing thing before." Peeking up at me through her long, dark eyelashes, she says, "I'm a, uh, virgin."

This comes as no shock to me. I could have guessed that given how sheltered she was, but she hasn't even fooled around?

Curious, I push her a little. "Let me ask you this. Have you ever kissed anyone before?"

Shying away, she shakes her head, no.

Never been kissed? This beautiful, vivacious woman has never been kissed? How is that even possible? Those sweetheart lips are going to waste, just resting on her gorgeous face, never once connecting with another soul.

Why do I feel the need to rectify that?

Because her lips are one of the things I haven't been able to out of my head the past few days. I want to know how they taste, how soft they are, how they would feel up against mine. Would it be serendipitous? Like we were meant to be?

There's a scary side of me that believes that very well could be true. I block out that side of me though. I can't go there. Not right now, not with Daisy.

Instead, I focus my attention back on her. "You've never been kissed, Daisy?"

She shakes her head, unable to really look at me, so I fix that. Lifting her chin, I force her to make eye contact. Those depths of blue hit me hard, harder than I was expecting, drawing me closer. Slow, intense seconds pass between us, the air growing thicker with each breath despite being outside. The heady atmosphere sucks me into her intoxicating orbit. Just one taste, that's all I want, just one simple taste.

"Never been kissed, huh? We're just going to have to change that now, won't we?"

Wrapping my hand behind her neck, I pull her forward, her hands now shaking against my thighs. I'm millimeters away from her mouth, our lips barely able to graze against each other. "Tell me to stop, Daisy. Tell me you don't want this."

Gripping tightly onto my jacket now, she ever so slightly shakes her head. "There isn't one part of me that can tell you no, Carter. I want this. So much."

"Not as much as me," I mutter right before I close the distance between us, our lips molding together in a gentle caress.

At first, I take it easy, letting Daisy get used to the feeling of our lips pressed together, of our heads bending in opposite directions, of our hands clamping onto each other. Once I feel she's comfortable, I move my hand down to her back and pull her closer, needing to feel her on a deeper level, not just on her lips, but with her body as well.

When I scoot her closer on my lap, she quietly moans in my mouth, her lips parting just enough that I slip my tongue inside, eliciting another moan from her. The sexiest sound I've ever fucking heard.

For never kissing someone before, she's fucking blowing my mind with the way she tentatively moves her hands inside my jacket, how her tongue barely grazes mine, and her lips move in conjunction with mine, like she's trying to form a rhythmic dance with our mouths.

It's sexy as fuck. Sinful almost, the way she lightly strokes my lips, sending chills up my spine. This isn't just some kiss, this is nothing I've ever experienced before. Hot, wet, explorative, tentative, scared yet excited, all wrapped up with a tiny little Daisy bow.

Fucking perfection.

Fucking terrifying.

Nipping at her lips one last time, I pull away and watch like a proud motherfucker as her eyes flutter open, lust pouring out of them as she catches her breath.

"Never been kissed? Not anymore, Snowflake."

She takes a deep breath, her hand going to her lips as if to check if they're still attached. Don't worry, Snowflake, they're still very much attached and looking just as sexy as ever. Staring up at me in awe, she says, "I guess not." Then with the most beautiful smile I've ever seen, she adds, "Thank you, Carter."

Ah hell. I'm so fucked when it comes to this girl.

JACE.

I've had my fair share of nervous moments. Whether it was having to hit the game-winning run, signing with my first major league team, or playing in my first major league game among thousands upon thousands of fans. I've had to shed the shaky hands and do my job.

But this moment right here, this is a moment I don't know if I can hide my nerves.

Sitting in my rental car, I stare up at the apartment complex and take deep breaths, playing the conversation I want to have over and over in my head. I practiced it on the phone with my lawyers, who didn't think it was a good idea, and with Hollyn, who coached me to be a little softer with my approach.

Apparently I was coming off as harsh. How could I not, though?

Christ.

I look at my text messages one last time, hovering over Hollyn's name.

Hollyn: Just remember to stay calm, no matter what she says to make you mad.

Stay calm, don't lose my shit, don't threaten her, but speak with authority. I'm doing this for June and Alex. I'm doing this for Hope.

After locking my car, I make my way up the sidewalk of the rundown apartment complex Rebecca lives in. She's moved since I've been with her. Taking in my surroundings, it seems something must have happened to her in the last few months, because she didn't used to live in such squalor.

Rundown doors after rundown doors appear as I walk down the balcony of the outdoor apartment complex. It has the feel of an old motel that someone converted into small apartments, some creepy structure out of a horror film. What the hell is she living here for?

Scanning the paper again with her address, I note the apartment number, 2F. The numbers on the doors are barely visible but when I spot 2F, my body goes stiff, my heart starts beating out of my chest, and my palms instantly become sweaty.

Knowing I just need to get this conversation over and done with, I rap two knuckles on the door and wait for her to answer, shifting from one foot to another, trying to keep myself busy so I don't have time to really think about what I'm doing.

What am I really doing? Some people might say I'm reasoning, but I'm not above begging. If I have to, I will get down on my hands and knees.

The distinct sound of locks being unlocked fill in the empty night air and the door barely cracks open, Rebecca's head poking through. When she sees me on the other side of the door, her eyes go wide for a brief moment but then turn into a blank mask.

"Jace, what are you doing here?"

"Can we talk?"

She looks back into her apartment and then says, "Now is not a good time. Just have your lawyers translate whatever you came to talk to me about."

She goes to shut the door on me but I stop it, my palm flat against the wood.

"I'm not leaving until I talk to you," I state, being firm.

"Well, looks like you're going to have a long night because now is not a good time," she seethes between her teeth.

"It's a good time for me, so either open up or step outside. I'm not a very patient man when it comes to you, so don't fuck with me, Rebecca."

So much for staying calm.

"Jace," she looks back into her apartment and then whispers, "I can't do this right now."

Trying to peer inside her apartment, I ask, "What the hell are you hiding that you don't want me to see?"

"Nothing. Go home. Have your lawyers call mine."

"I'm not going-"

"Becca, come check on the cookies, I think they're done but I'm not sure," a deep voice booms from inside the apartment, causing Rebecca to squeeze her eyes shut.

I know that voice.

"Rebecca?"

"Don't." She shakes her head and tries to push the door shut again. "Just leave, Jace."

Not going to happen. I'm not putting up with this anymore. I stop her from closing the door, but this time, I push the door all the way open. Just as I walk into her apartment, Ethan, my teammate and my best friend comes out into the living room, wearing an apron, a fucking apron, and holding a tray of cookies. What. The. Fuck.