Free Crossed: Book Two (A NEW ADULT ROMANCE) by Emma Browning Page B

going into and out of the restaurants. Tyson grabs my hand and we walk together. It feels good. He is close, but the playfulness of him holding my hand gets me right away. I want his arm around me. We pass a Buca di Beppo and find ourselves in Gordon Biersch. We sit at the bar and are greeted pleasantly by the local barkeep. Tyson orders a “stiefel” of beer and I follow suit, not having any idea what a stiefel is.
    Two boots full of beer come and we drink. His is half-drunk before I’m finished taking what I consider a gulp. We just look at each other and start laughing. I don’t know why I start laughing with him, but something is just funny about this moment. Like there is nothing else to do now but laugh. Hell, we sure had been through a lot in the last day and this beer is really, I mean really, hitting the spot. I’m considering this, when I feel his hand on the outside and moving to the inside of my thigh. It is so unexpected, and so nice . I can’t help but lean towards him. I feel tingling all inside my thighs and pulsing ripples in-between. I stop laughing and look at him. He looks at me. One side of his mouth is still partly curled up, but the other has come down as if to confirm that our situation, however playful, is getting more serious. We both lean in just a little further. He looks delicious and I feel like I’ll die again looking into his eyes. My heart is pounding. I don’t think my chest can hold it much longer.
    “Would you like to order some food tonight?”
    What the hell is that? You have got to be kidding me.
    “Yes sir, we’ve had a long day on the road and we just want to enjoy a few good drinks, put down a sandwich or two and then have a nice night on the town,” Tyson says.
    The bartender winks and says, “I can help you with part of that.”
    We take turns ordering sandwiches and Tyson adds, “We’ll take another pair of boots too”. Mine is still half full, but for some reason I take his order as a prompt and put down half of it in the next drink. Between the warmth of his hand and the frost of this beer, I’m really starting to feel better. But the moment is broken.
    We return to conversation, have a nice dinner and walk out to the crowded plaza. This time his arm comes around my shoulders and I waste no time getting mine around his waist. We gather there is a concert at the arena because there are a lot of young girls around, some with parents, who clearly don’t want to be there, and some without. The underage crowd. We move quickly to get out of that scene and walk to the street to look for another bar. We see baseball fans also gathering and we follow some to see where they are going. When we get in view, we see a baseball stadium and a scoreboard that visibly displays a Columbus Clippers logo. Tyson says we’re doing it and I don’t object. I would probably do whatever he asks me to do at this point.
    We find a patio off of the main concourse with some picnic tables. We can see the game from that view and we are close to the beer carts. Lots of people are around at other tables and some join us at our table too. We have a fun night watching the game and just chatting about this and that. I think we both realize we really don’t know very much about one another. We exchange lots of furtive glances through the night and make rounds of holding hands, touching arms, and otherwise poking and playing with each other.
    And then it is time. The game is over and we are on our way back to the hotel. I’m covered all over with nervous anticipation for what might come next. I feel a light sweat build on my forehead and do my best to wipe it away so he doesn’t see. We turn the corner at High St and head back towards our hotel. The bar scene is in full effect and there are people milling on the sidewalks. As we’re talking, I accidentally bump into a kid who turns and says, “What the fuck?” He looks at Tyson next and says, “Dude, get control of your bitch.”
    Tyson lets