Page 19 of Saving The Shortstop

Over the years, I’ve been summoned to a front-row seat of his flirting, dancing, and having girls on his lap at parties, but I’ve never had to actually see him in bed with anyone else. And to be honest, I’m not sure I could handle it if I did.

You’re tutoring him, Haven. Put your pathetic, squishy feelings aside.

With my hand on the knob, I twist before pushing it slowly open. I swear I squeeze my eyes shut for the first few seconds before finally, I realize how dumb that’s going to look if he does have some chick in bed with him and they look up and see me standing here, eyes closed.

Cracking them open, I breath out in relief when it’s just him in bed and no one else. But he’s sound asleep, and now I’m just standing here, staring at him like a creep.

The comforter sits just above his briefs, leaving his bare, muscled back exposed. He sleeps on his stomach, with his cheek to the pillow and his lips parted. He’s like a work of art—this entire house is filled with living, breathing works of art. It’s annoying.

Lightly smacking my forehead, I shake my head at myself before I walk to the other side of the bed and grab a pillow. Going to the end, I reach back before launching it right at his head. Of course, it hits right where I planned. I’m a softball player, for God’s sake.

His face scrunches up, and he stirs the slightest bit, clearly irritated though he’s still asleep.

“Donnnn’t,” he whines, never once opening his eyes. Instead, he just moves his head to the other side before seemingly dozing back off.

“Oh, hell no. I don’t have time for this today,” I say, grabbing a soft football from his desk. This time, I throw it even harder at him. Not like a throw to home plate to get a runner out, but more of a … warming-up throw with about forty percent power.

Even so, it’s enough to have him sitting up in his bed.

“What the fuck!” he growls, wiping his eyes before finally peeling them open. When he sees me looking at him, he doesn’t try to hide the agitation.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he says slowly, scrubbing his hand over his face. “In my room?”

“Go get in the shower,” I say, pointing to the door. “Once you wash the liquor that’s seeping from your pores off your body and wake up enough to have a conversation, we’ll talk.”

“About what?”

Grabbing an actual football from his desk, I hold it up and widen my eyes. Quickly, he scurries from under the covers, and right away, my eyes drop down to the bulge in his briefs.

Dallas doesn’t even try to cover it up; instead, he freaking smirks.

“Don’t get too excited, Short,” he drawls, and even though he’s clearly hungover, he still manages to sound cocky as fuck. “It’s not because of you. I always wake up this way.”

“Yeah, well, unless you want the football thrown at your baby dick, get moving,” I blurt out, knowing damn well that’s more of a monster dick, but if he’s going to be a jerk, so will I. “I have shit to do, and I don’t want my dad to lose one of his players. So, make no mistake, that’s why I’m here after last night.”

Something I say seems to soften him, but rather than answering, he gives me a tiny nod before walking out and into the hallway. I look around, taking in the fact that his room is way tidier than mine is or ever has been. Taking a seat at the end of the bed, I wait.

DALLAS

My cock swells even bigger as soon as I step into the spray. The truth is, I lied to Haven’s face. My dick was hard because I was dreaming about her. In my dream, she was tutoring me in a slutty teacher’s costume, and she slammed my computer shut before she straddled me—no panties on. She grinded on me while we kissed before she slid from my lap and dropped to her knees. She was undoing my jeans, eager to suck my dick just as something hit me in the head, waking me up.

I reach for the knob that controls the water temperature and turn it hard to the right. The cold water hits my body, making me damn near yelp, but I force myself to stand here, letting it pelt off my body until my dick goes down. And even then, I wait another minute or so before turning it warm, knowing that if I make myself comfortable too soon, my cock will be steel again because that damn dream keeps floating back into my brain.

Once I’m confident my cock is down for good, I turn the knob, and within seconds, the water is hot before I pump some soap into my hand. Scrubbing my body and hair, I let the stream rinse away the suds before turning the shower off.

My head is pounding, making me regret getting drunk all alone last night. How pathetic is that? I mean, it’s not like I was even having a good time with friends. I was by myself.

Drying my hair and body quickly, I wrap the towel around my waist before brushing my teeth. The last person I expected to be in my room when I woke up this morning was Haven. She was pissed last night, and rightfully so, I suppose. But if she knew how bad I really am at school and understood how embarrassed it makes me, she wouldn’t have been so mad.

Walking across the hallway, I go back into my room to find her sitting at the edge of my bed. She looks so good in her practice uniform, and I let my mind wander back to the icy cold water to keep myself in check.

On instinct, her eyes float down my body before stopping at the towel, and she quickly looks away. “I can go out while you change.”

“I’m not shy, Short,” I say, because it’s the truth. She’s seen it all anyway. We’ve grown up too close for her not to have. Besides, she’s always been the confident, cool type. Right now, she’s looking a little flustered, and to be honest, I’m loving it.

Standing up quickly, she clears her throat. “I, uh, do not need to see your ass or your pecker,” she blurts out, taking off out the door. “I’ll be in the hallway. Just holler when you’re decent.”

“Suit yourself,” I drawl, knowing damn well it’s for the best. I’d love nothing more than to keep her in this room, drop my towel down, and just see what happens. I see the way she looks at me sometimes, and I saw the way her eyes fell to my briefs when I stood up with a massive hard-on. She was thirsty, yet she fought it—just like she should.