The Catching Kind by Caitie Quinn

bring wasn't exactly gearing me up for excitement. 
    I must have dozed off, because suddenly the static menu of T2 was on the screen with the theme rolling on repeat. My feet were cozy-warm tucked under Connor's thighs as he sprawled at the far end, both arms wrapped around a pillow, his head thrown back against the sofa.
    I eased my feet out from under him and padded to the hall closet while trying to figure out if I should wake him up. The angle of his head was going to leave a horrible crick in his neck, but it also meant no more arguing about who slept where.
    I guess I was a nicer person than I thought, because I opted to wake him up. 
    "Connor." I gave him a little shake. "Connor."
    One of those overly built arms let go of the pillow and pulled me down, tucking me against his solid frame.
    Yeah. No. 
    I slapped his shoulder. "Connor, wake up."
    He did that little snuffle thing people do when they don't want to wake up. But, when he glanced down at me, he looked confused. Like he had no idea where he was or who I was.
    Who knows how many times he'd been through that.
    The arm crossing my waist loosened, letting me pull away.
    "What Hailey?"
    Or he did know.
    "We fell asleep. I brought you some sheets and a blanket for the couch."
    I dropped them next to him and started toward my room. "You can have one of my pillows tonight. But if this is going to be a regular thing, you're going to need to bring one over."
    I grabbed my second pillow, the one I usually slept cuddled up against, and brought it back to the living room...where there was a half-naked pro-athlete leaning over my couch tucking a sheet into the cushions.
    And, while I knew he wasn't the kind of guy I'd ever date, the sight of his black boxer brief clad rear end was a little swoon inducing.
    "What are you doing?"
    He straightened and glanced over his shoulder. "Making my bed ."
    Yeah, still not happy about that obviously.
    "No. I mean, where are your clothes?"
    "I can't sleep in my clothes. What will I work out in tomorrow? I have three hours of swinging a bat in the afternoon. I’m not wearing slept in clothes to do that.”
    "You can't walk around my apartment naked."
    "Sweetheart, this ain't naked.” He crossed his arms across an overtly impressive chest. “This is me politely not sleeping naked. Which is how I usually sleep."
    "It's how you usually sleep at home or with your girlfriend."
    "Who is currently you. But, here I am, sleeping on a couch, in my boxers and not doing any of the other things I could be doing with my girlfriend ."
    I threw the pillow at his head and growled when he caught it.
    I would have if he hadn't too—I mean, he's paid to catch things. With that, I headed back to my room where there was a perfectly good bed, and fell into it. 
    And I didn't feel the least bit guilty. 
     
     
     
     
     
     

NINE
     
    I woke to banging. Not building-something banging or someone's-at-the-door banging. I woke to cabinet banging.
    That's when the morning joy of my guest hit me.
    I could only hope that comfortable truce we’d established the night before would carry over.
    I pulled my hair into a ponytail, wrapped my little robe over the pajama shorts set I was wearing, and headed out to the kitchen to see if he'd destroyed it already.
    "You don't have any coffee." He had thankfully pulled the shorts back on, but between the naked shoulders and the mussed bed head, he looked like an ad for sex…I mean, something sexy.
    Yeah. Whatever.
    I glanced away because…yeah.
    "Good morning to you too."
    "How can you not have coffee? I thought writers lived in weird, dark places and subsisted on coffee and cigarettes."
    "And you thought wrong. I subsist on tea and chocolate when I'm not eating like a normal person."
    "So, there's really no coffee?" He looked at me like I might be lying. Like there was coffee in some secret compartment he just hadn't found yet.
    "Nope."
    "How do you live like this?" His voice rose with the accusation as if I was