After a moment passed, I finally looked at Dex. “When Maya approached me about her plan, I didn’t know what to think. I didn’t even realize I wanted it. The possibility that this shit with Kimball could derail my future career prospects is pretty messed up. I feel like I got caught slipping or something. Like everything I’ve worked for or want to achieve is in jeopardy.”
He squeezed my hand. “That’s not true. Your accomplishments are yours. This doesn’t change that. Maya hasn’t mentioned it yet. Let’s not assume the organization cares about some dumb vloggers who don’t know anything about you. Focus on your brunch with the board of directors.”
“You know it’s not that simple.”
“Yes, it is. Dallas, you got this. I’m not worried, and neither is anyone else who knows you.”
“That’s the problem. The board doesn’t know me. Suddenly, people are analyzing my dating history, passing judgment on my choices, and assuming I fuck anybody with a dick.”
He chuckled. “Even if you did, it’s nobody’s business.”
“I didn’t,” I clarified. Despite my love of sex, I was very careful about who I let in my space. Most men need not apply. “I don’t. But it’s the type of first impression that’s hard to overcome.”
“Hey. I love you regardless of your ‘ho-ish ways,’ and they will too.”
I cracked up. “Shut up.” The jokes my family had cracked during Blake’s housewarming had been epic. I couldn’t be angry they’d laughed at my expense—once they knew I was okay, of course. Even my parents had gotten in on the fun.
“Seriously, though. He’s a punk-ass muthafucka. Remind me why I didn’t fuck him up last week again?”
“Because that wouldn’t solve anything.” I knew my brothers were itching to beat the crap out of Kimball. Violence was not the answer. “And Blake called dibs,” I added with a giggle.
“I don’t know. Blake’s on her ‘the world is better with love’ tip lately. Besides, he’ll hear it better from me.”
“You better not let her hear you say that.”
“I’ll say it to her face.” He stood, tugging me to my feet as well. “She’s getting soft. Let’s go get food before our game.”
Feeling better, I grabbed my purse and followed my brother out. And prayed I could enjoy the rest of my day without another false headline making the news.
* * *
“Damn, Dallas!”my brother, Tristan, grumbled from behind me. “That’s two strikes.”
Frustrated at my lack of prowess on the field today, I had half a mind to toss my bat at him and walk away. Figured I’d have an off day when my most competitive and irritating sibling had decided to play. Softball was one of our favorite pastimes. Ever since we were little kids, our parents had insisted we learn the game and play competitively. And we’d never stopped, forming an adult co-ed team every summer and fall.
I glared at Tristan over my shoulder. “I don’t need a reminder.” Turning my attention back to the pitcher, I swung the bat a couple of times, then took my stance. I glanced at my father, who was peering at me from third base. On first base, my niece Raven was stretching. And my younger brother, Asa, was chatting with the woman playing short stop for the opposing team. Bases loaded. Bottom of the seventh inning. It was up to me.
The pitcher narrowed his eyes on me, drew back, and tossed the ball my way. It only took a second, but when my bat hit the ball, I didn’t stop to think. I just ran. I sprinted past first base, then second. I could hear my brothers yelling commands, but I kept going. My mother’s strongly-worded order to stop didn’t permeate either, and I sailed past third. To my left, I saw the ball flying toward home base. And I went down, sliding into home before the catcher tagged me.
“Safe!” the umpire shouted.
Pain radiated up my leg to my hip. I rolled onto my back, struggling to catch my breath. “Shit,” I whispered. And since I couldn’t say anything else, I continued to say that until my heart rate slowed down.
A moment later, I heard my name. When I opened my eyes, I saw Dex standing above me. Tristan, Asa, and my mom joined him shortly after.
“Dallas?” my mom called. She was five foot two, shorter than all of us, but she always seemed tall. Probably because she radiated confidence, commanded any room she entered.
I cracked one eye open. “Yes?”
“Oh, Lord. She’s hurt. Asa, go get some ice.” With concerned eyes, she bent low and touched my forehead with the back of her hand. “Are you okay, babe?”
“No,” I whined. “Not okay. But I don’t have a fever, Mom.”
Dex laughed. “Exactly.”
“Quiet.” Mom smacked him. “It’s a habit.” She squeezed my ankle.
When she rubbed my hip bone, I cried out, “Ouch.”
