Catching to Win (Over the Fence #3) Read Free

makeshift room. My Roo. I'd started calling her that after we'd watched an old episode of the cartoon one Saturday morning. She was exactly like the little Kangaroo; petite, determined, always looking for her next big adventure.
    I set her down on the bed, careful to only remove my arms from under her when I know she's stable. The fleeting feeling of her skin on my skin is doused in cold-hard reality, and the moment she's gone I feel empty. Kelsey sits up, her bohemian skirt flaring around her on the bed, her hair, the color of fine-aged scotch, dusting her shoulders. Her long lashes fluttered over her makeup free face. She was so naturally beautiful it took my breath away. The light flooded the dark room from the slats in the blinds, and for a moment we just stared at each other.
    An electric current flowed between us, and I hoped and prayed to whatever God there was that she was feeling this too. This excruciating, burning need.
    I took a step toward her, reaching out and brushing my fingertips, rough with calluses from being mashed in my catcher's glove, over her velvety-soft skin. My lungs are on fire with the breath I'm not expelling. I keep every sound inside my body, knowing that with one exhale, I might send her running like a spooked animal.
    She leans into my hand, the soft strands of red hair streaming over the skin of my arms. Kelsey nuzzles my fingers, and I'm sure I'm shaking now that she's this close to me.
    "Kels..." I can't help it, I have to kneel down, look into her eyes and address her.
    Just then, the curtain closes over her hazel eyes, and I can feel the icy panic start to spread over my chest. Shit.
    "You're always saving me." She smiles, a polite smile. One meant to get me out of this room. One meant to protect herself with.
    "I wish I didn’t have to.” I turn away, rubbing my fingertips together, hoping to save any remnants of her on my skin. She doesn't respond, so I turn back to face her. "Why do you pick these losers, Roo? Do you even know..."
    I trail off, stopping myself from complimenting her when I know she doesn't want to hear it. Or even worse. Telling her how completely I've fallen for her.
    "You're sweet, Clint. That's why I know I can trust you. You're such a great friend." Her smile doesn't reach her beautiful eyes. I can tell she's avoiding the subject altogether as she lays back, plopping down on her pillow in that way drunk people do. "Thanks for putting me to bed. Go have fun. Find a girl, get her number. Kiss her. Fuck her. Have fun!"
    Kelsey throws her arms up in the air, but her limbs are sleepy, almost overtaken with exhaustion. Before I can respond, I hear her soft breathing tickling the white pillowcase, letting me know she's out cold.
    "I've already found her..." I mumble on my way out, shutting the door gently behind me.

2
Kelsey
    T here are ecologists , zoologists, and other people who work with nature or animals that try to reduce their carbon footprint. Eat better. Plant Better. Recycle better.
    Those people are not me. I work on reservations, with animals, simply because I love them. Sure, I'm a vegetarian mostly because I wouldn't dream of putting a poor, defenseless animal down my gullet. But, I'm not out to save our Ozone layer or stop global warming. If I see poachers or hunters, I'll cut a bitch. But harvesting garbage and banana peels to make my own gas to run my smart car? Yeah, that's not me.
    I know, call me a hypocrite.
    Which is why, I have absolutely no problem pouring myself a ginormous bowl of sugary, processed Reese's Puffs to cure my hangover. And adding a cigarette.
    After puffing in my morning fill of nicotine, I walk back into the boy's house. It’s my temporary base camp for now, until I get the urge to up and move again. That's me, the group nomad.
    "You know I can still smell the stench of smoke even when you try to disguise it with perfume."
    Clint's gravely, deep voice surprises me so much that I spill a puddle of milk on the counter as I fill