I'm not really sure what I'm still doing at Grover. Much less what I'm doing still living in the same house as Clint.

In some unearthly way, Minka has convinced me to stay here for a couple more weeks. She told me not to run, that my parents will find me no matter where I go. And she's right. But that hasn't stopped my gypsy nomad ways before. So what the hell am I still doing here?

Maybe it's Dorothy and the other animals at the preserve who I can't seem to tear myself away from. Maybe it's the fact that Jackson is here, and I always feel better when he's in close proximity. Maybe it’s my gut telling me I shouldn't move on yet, and I've always trusted my gut. It's usually the only thing I can trust.

So why the hell is my stupid freaking gut telling me I need to address this business with Clint? Why is it putting these thoughts in my head? Thoughts of us together.

A virgin. Who the fuck would have seen that curve ball coming? Well, except Clint. He's great at handling balls. Fuck. Dirty thoughts and innuendos are usually my bread and butter, but I can't seem to get my mind out of the gutter when it comes to Clint these days.

But a virgin? My hot, scruffy stud of a best friend hasn't dipped his wick in the honey pot?

And then I remember what Clint used to look like. It took me some time to get used to the new him, but now that I have I almost forget he used to be heavy. But how could I forget that? I barely recognized him when I came home. I almost hit on him on the porch when I arrived.

It still blows my mind though. Clint's personality is awesome, regardless of what he looks like. There had to be some girl who would have ridden that horse into town. And a hell of lot more would give their right tit to hop on some hot baseball player's junk the way he looked now.

And just maybe, that's why I was sticking around. I wasn't afraid to admit it. I like sex. A lot. Great sex is good for the body, the soul. And the clit. Can’t forget that one.

Three days ago Clint slammed me up against the wall behind Sammy's, and I haven't been able to get that kiss out of my head. It haunts me every waking, and sleeping, second. I know I want more. And we've already crossed the line. The one we both knew existed. There was a country called Friend Zone, and we left it to travel to the island called With Benefits. And now that we were on that island, I want the whole vacation.

I didn't want to set up a home — no relationships that was my rule — but I'd take a nice long relaxing vacation. Who better than with someone I thought was funny, genuine and extremely sexy? It was a plus that Clint was my friend. We could hump like bunnies and then go get a beer. And after it ended, because it would inevitably end, we would be able to move on and stay pals.

There was just one little wrinkle. Clint hadn't spoken to me since he'd literally run away from me in that alley.

When I was at the house, he was never there. He wouldn't come home until late in the night. He'd take all of his meals to his room so he wouldn't have to talk to anyone.

I'd tried to corner him several times, but he always slipped out or made some excuse. Well, tonight I'd be making sure that he couldn't get away.

Minka and I sit in our stadium seats, surrounded by hundreds of other Grover fans here for the exact same reason. Minka is busy chatting away to the other wives and girlfriends, or WAGS as I call them, in the section. The girls she's become friendly with since she started dating Owen two years ago. I can't be bothered with small talk right now though. Especially with those bimbos.

My eyes are glued to the field waiting for Clint to run out as they announce him. I've already watched him warm up for the super-regional game, those hot white baseball pants hugging the dips and valleys in his ass and thighs. The gym did that man good. I was practically sweating through the Grover Baseball t-shirt I stole from Clint's room before Minka and I left.

"What're you doing?"

I barely register Minka's question, and don't bother to peel my eyes from the field twenty rows in front of us. "Hm?"

"I asked what you were doing? Why do you look like Jesus himself might run out of the dugout right now?"

Sliding my eyes over to her, I smile. "Maybe Jesus himself is about to come out of there. Hot Jesus in white baseball pants."

"You're such a hornball. I knew you begged to come to this for a reason."

"More like one reason." I licked my lips and blew her a kiss, earning me the usual Minka-eye roll.

"And what would that reason be?"

Minka's question lingers in my brain as the Grover team is announced. The uniform clad hunks trot onto the field, almost all of them toned and tan and mouth-watering. But I'm zeroed in on one of them. Clint. In his catcher's gear, his tall, muscular brawn makes my heart start thumping double time and I can feel the wetness now coating my panties.

That kiss. It set my bones ablaze, it stirred in me the most basic of needs. God, he was so sexy. The way I felt like he wanted to swallow me whole. How his breath came out in loud gasps when we finally broke apart. The hard, long length of him pressed against my sex. Yeah, I was ready to go on a nice long vacation to “Fuck Me Best Friend” island.

"Are you eye-fucking Clint?" Minka's voice pulls me back to consciousness from Sexland.

"Maybe..."

It looks like her eyes just about roll back in her head. "Wait, what?! Since when?"

I pat her on the back, because it looks like she just might faint. "Um...since he got hot. Did you not notice that?"

At my response, Minka frowns. And not a mock frown, like when someone is faking being mad or annoyed. This is a genuine, creases-in-her-eyebrow frown. "Kelsey. I've known you for almost your entire life. I thought you were better than that."

The players take the field down below, our guys assuming their positions out on the diamond. Since we are the home team, they'd be batting second. I stole another glance at Clint, crouching down at home plate as Owen threw him head shakes and hand signals from the mound.

"Oh come on, Minks. Lighten up, I'm only kidding. I love Clint, like a friend. I also happen to know he can play tonsil-hockey like only a sexy athlete could.”

At this point it looks like Minka swallowed a bug and is choking on it. Her face is red, her eyes wide with shock. "You guys made out?"

I just smile, silently confirming what I just told her to be true.

"Kelsey..." Minka gives me her admonishing-mother tone.

"Save it, Minks. I've heard this speech enough times to know you're already disappointed in me."

Minka checks her tongue, but still continues. "Except you haven't. Because this time I'm not concerned about you. You want to have casual flings your whole life? Fine. But you do realize Clint isn't like that. And you're absolutely blind if you don't see the way he looks at you. Don't do this. Not to him."

I'm stunned. Literally stunned. I think my jaw is scraping the dirty stadium floor, mixing with the crushed peanuts and spilled soda. Minka has never talked to me like that before. Sure, she's bitched about my lack of boyfriends and excess of ex-hookups. But that tongue lashing? I've never fallen victim to one of her vicious attacks. Now I knew what it felt like to be taken down a peg by my best friend.

But what did she know really? Clint seemed just as into what we were doing as I was. If he was not cool with it, he would have let me know.

"How does he look at me?" Despite all of the stuff she just said to me, that is the one thing that sticks in my head.

"Like he's in love with you. Like the ground you walk on is sacred. Like Miles looks at Chloe. Like Owen looks at me."

I grimace. All of that fairytale, love crap makes me nauseous. And Clint so doesn't look at me like that. I even scoff when she raises her eyebrows at me to prove some point.

"Please, Kelsey. Don't go there."

She shouldn't have said that. Because for as well as my best friend knows me, that was a fatal mistake. Everyone knows that once I'm told I shouldn't, or can't, do something, it becomes priority numero uno.

I haven't been able to take my eyes off of Clint's ass for the last 20 minutes. Not when he's bent down just so like that. I can see the muscles bunching is his muscular thighs, the way his tight, firm ass strains against the thin white material of his baseball pants as he catches pitch after high-speed pitch from Owen.

He doesn't have the fear gene anywhere in him. His best friend is launching 90 mile-an-hour pitches at him and he doesn't even flinch. I see in him what I often feel within myself. You get nowhere if you don't stare fear in the face, laugh at it and tell it to fuck off.

Suddenly Clint jumps up, hurling the ball directly in Owen's direction. But this is a play they've practiced a thousand times. Clint's giant, muscle-carved arm rears back and then explodes, sending the small white and red object soaring through the air. Owen ducks down onto his mound, his mind reading every single thing Clint has already thought. The two of them completely in sync throughout each play.

The ball connects with a loud thwack and sinks into the second-basemen's glove.

"OUT!" The umpire pumps his fist in a downward motion. Clint threw the runner, who was trying to steal one of his bases, out. He makes that motion hot guys always make. The one between a fist pump and a roar, his muscles all tense and his mouth dropping open in a ferocious yell. He looks like the lion, controlling his kingdom from home plate.

I stand up and scream with the rest of the crowd, putting my fingers in my mouth and whistling. It was the third and finalout. Game over. Grover's headed to the College World Series.

"I can't believe it! We’re going to the World Series! We’re going to Omaha!!!" Minka is jumping up and down, doing this hokey little happy dance that makes me laugh like a hyena. "Oh my God! Miles. He's probably hating he missed this." She looks worried about Chloe's boyfriend. Only my stoic, serious best friend would think about that right now.

"Chin up, buttercup. He's happy as a clam right now. He's got the hottest ballerina princess in all the land, and he's headed for the majors. I'm sure he'll be happy to watch from the stands with us when they make the championship series."

She smiles. "You're right! Come on, let's beat the crowd so we can get a table at Sammy's."

Twenty minutes and two beers later, Minka finally whoops when Owen walks into the bar to a standing ovation. Her boyfriend begins jumping up and down, waving his hands around like a maniac.

Still the same golden boy I went to high school with. He's comes over to our table pulling Minka into his arms . He fuses his lips to hers, not caring who the hell in this bar is watching. People wolf-whistle and moan obnoxiously, but my friends just keep sucking each other's faces. When they come up for air, finally, he mouths "I love you" to her. Yes, he may be the golden boy, but he loves Minka unconditionally for who she is and what she's gone through. And for that I will always love him like a brother.

Clint comes in slowly behind him, to much less enthusiasm save for a couple of back slaps. He's so modest. He doesn't need the limelight, his career is not forged off of ego and appearance. He loves to play, and would be happy to do it alone if he could.

"Great game, bros! You whooped those sorry bitches.” I fist bump Owen as he slides into our booth. Clint stands at the head of the table, awkwardly avoiding my eye contact.

"I'm gonna grab a beer. See you guys in a bit.”

Not so fast. It won't be that easy to get rid of me tonight. "I'll join you!"

I hop up, linking my arm through his so fast and steering us away from the table so that he can't do anything but be dragged along. I move us to a less occupied corner and stop, moving to face him.

I try to make him look at me, but he's got at least a foot and a half on my short ass. "Okay, when do you think you'll stop it with this bitchy 'let's not talk to Kelsey' routine? It's getting old and you look like a sad sloth when you sulk."

I start off with a joke, thinking that maybe we can get our friendly banter going again. Clint was always my favorite friend to talk to. It was easy, there was never any pressure. Now it felt like pulling teeth from a gator just to get him to look my way.

"I really am going to get a beer." He turns, his massive body making me back up a step to accommodate for his movement.

I grab his wrist before he can flee. "Seriously, what the fuck, Clint? You're really going to keep ignoring me?"

He stops and sighs. "What? What do you need to talk about?"

I almost laugh. This was certainly not the Clint I knew. "Um, how about the fact that you're my best friend who hasn't spoken to me in almost four days? Or how about we talk about the fact that we kissed? Or about the little fact bomb you dropped on me and then ran away?"

Clint's face goes ice cold, his usual aquamarine orbs are as frigid and clear as the snow in Antarctica. I can see his jaw tick under the stubbly skin. And then he's pulling me from the bar like it’s on fire.

He pushes open the door violently. I didn't even know he had that kind of anger in his being. And then we end up in the place where this all started. The alley. Although this time he's trying to stand as far away as possible, not pushing me up against the dirty brick wall. Bummer for me I suppose.

"It isn't enough that I embarrassed myself in front of you the other night with my secret? You need to go announce it to the whole bar?"

I take a play right out of Minka's book and roll my eyes. "Cool your jets, crazy. No one was listening to us, for one. For two, no one could have possibly known that's what I was talking about. Your secret is safe, drama queen."

Clint exhales loudly again and runs his large hands through his military cut. I'd love to run my hands over the prickly black buzz cut again...

"Talk. If that's what you need to do."

He interrupts my fantasy. Focus, Kelsey. I breathe deep, searching through all of the arguments and thoughts I've talked over in my head for the last three days.

"You didn't give me an opportunity to process the other night. It took me by surprise, I admit. But I've had the last three days to go over it in my head. You know, since you're being a total childlike asshole and ignoring me."

Clint flinches at that. He almost looks guilty, but stiffens his upper lip and still refuses to look at me. I push on.

"You being a virgin doesn't matter to me, Clint. I only froze because I'm actually surprised that you are one. A nice guy like you, even at your heaviest. I thought you'd be pulling in a few of those baseball sluts looking to examine the team's bats up close and personal. You have a stellar personality. Fuck, you are a stellar person."

He's still staring over my head.

"Would you at least look me in the eye if I told you I found it hot?"

Now he's laser focused in on me. That's a good boy.

He narrows his eyes. "Are you high?"

I snort. It’s just so ironically funny because I should have toked up before this conversation. It would have made it so much easier.

"No. I'm honest. Which is all I've ever been with you, Clint. You know me. I would think you'd be open enough with me to not avoid me like the fucking plague this week."

"You think it’s hot that I'm a virgin?"

Typical guy. Only focused on the topic that addresses his dick and not the emotions. Not that that was a bad thing…it’s usually how I liked to assess situations. With my pussy. Not my dick.

"Yeah, I do."

Clint rubs a big hang down the back of his buzz cut. "Well...that's...uh, good I guess."

I think he might be blushing. Damn he's cute. And sexy. Did I mention that I can still see some dirt dusting his arms from where he rubbed them on home plate? It makes my insides turn to mush just thinking about those thick, dirty arms holding me down on a mattress.

Our eyes catch, and we can both tell what the other is thinking. Fantasizing about. Sex. Between us.

All of the blood in my body rushes straight to my clit, the pulsing and throbbing creating a warm buzz between my legs. I shift them to try and alleviate some of the pressure. Fuck me. All that does is create friction that causes me to stifle a moan.

Clint's eyes have gone indigo with lust. It makes my lower half flush, and I'm even more acutely aware of how hard my clit is throbbing. I know he will never make the first move. I didn't expect him to. I've been thinking about how to play this game for three days. Because Clint may play his baseball games, but we're on my turf right now. Hook ups. Friends with benefits. And I rule this league.

"We could do something about that, you know."

I can see his sharp intake of breath. He knows exactly what I mean by my words. "Do something about what?"

"Don't play dumb, please. Honesty, remember? That's the only way this works. We can fix your situation. I can take your v-card. We can perform the horizontal hula. Call it whatever you want, but you know we both want this."

Clint is silent for a minute. I know what he's thinking. His cock says yes, but his brain..."But we're friends, Kels. I want to fuck you, you don’t know how badly I want that right now. But this could also fuck everything up.”

I've thought this one over too. "That's exactly why this could be great. Ever hear of friends with benefits? We get to be best friends, but can also fuck like bunnies. Mutual satisfaction, buddy. And then we can go watch Law & Order on the couch and eat Doritos."

Clint's eyes go from narrow to thinking. I can see I'm wearing him down. Taking a couple of steps forward, I cross the alley to stand in front of him.

"I know you haven't been able to stop thinking about that kiss either. About how much chemistry there is between us. Be my benefit buddy?" I say this quietly, almost coaxing him to give it up already and let this happen.

He bites his lip and sighs. I can see the confliction in his beautiful, sapphire eyes, but I also see the need in them. The desire. I know I've got him. Looks like this girl will be going on vacation after all.