Page 41 of Saving The Shortstop

“I dropped them off on the porch,” he says, cocking his head to the side. “It’s not my fault one of her roommates took them up to her.”

Lifting him from the wall, I shove him back against it, this time earning a slight whimper.

“That’s bullshit.” I grit my teeth. “None of her roommates did that. They know what a fucking creep you are.”

“You sure about that?” He lifts a brow, though his breathing is labored. “Are you one hundred percent sure? Because if not, that means you’re here, assaulting me for no reason.” He attempts to shrug, but my weight doesn’t allow him. “And something tells me that Coach would think that was a no-no too …”

“Fuck you,” I growl. “Coach will believe me and he’ll throw your ass off the team.”

“Probably,” he coos. “After all, you’re like family I hear.” He stops, but I know he isn’t finished. “But you know what would make Coach really mad?” His eyes are dancing with humor now. “If the whole world saw pictures of his daughter naked.”

My heart sinks, and I don’t know if he’s bluffing or if he really has pictures of Haven naked. Either way, I only want to kill him more.

“I’ll tell you what … you keep your mouth shut, and I’ll keep those pictures stored away in a place that only I can see.” His eyes glimmer, and if I wasn’t so fucking mad, I’d probably throw up. I grip his shirt, ready to throw him into the wall harder, but he stops me. “And before you try to beat it out of me, just know this—Haven has no clue I even have them or where they might be stored. There’s no point digging when you wouldn’t know where to start. And if you lay one more finger on me—” His eyes widen, and he fucking smiles. “Poof … the entire world knows exactly what’s under that softball uniform.”

I’m shaking now, and my head feels like I’m on one of those sketchy fair rides, going in circles way too fast. Anger fuels me, making everything distorted. Part of me wants to call his bluff and beat the shit out of him until he deletes the pictures. The other part is afraid that’ll make things worse.

Haven has dreams of playing professional softball and, at some point, teaching. Naked pictures circulating could derail all of that.

Dropping my hold of him, I glare into his useless, eerie eyes.

“Stay. The. Fuck. Away. From. Haven,” I growl. “Or you won’t have to worry about what happens with those pictures. You’ll be six feet under.”

Even though it fucking kills me … I turn and walk away. I know this isn’t going to be the last of our issues, but for now, I need to figure out what the hell to do from here.

I need to get the pictures—if there even are any. I can’t risk that ever happening to Haven. Even if I have to throw away my own football career to make sure of it.

SEVENTEEN

HAVEN

It’s been a few days since everything came to a head with Dallas and Tabor, and since then, unless Dallas isn’t at practice or class, he’s been with me, even staying with me at night. Only, instead of sleeping in the same bed like we did when I was sick, he’s resorted to a blow-up mattress that’s entirely too big for my bedroom, but I guess it’s better than me waking up with his dick pressing against my ass because, eventually, my willpower not to climb him like a tree would run out.

I finally felt good enough that we were able to squeeze in a tutoring session earlier before I left for practice, and while I don’t know what exactly happened the other day when he went to The Lookout to confront Tabor, I haven’t received any more flowers.

“Easy, killer,” Coach says with a smirk, looking me up and down. “You aren’t one hundred percent yet, you know. No need to throw so damn hard.”

“Oh, I’m back, Coach.” I grin, throwing the ball to Gigi, who gives me a laser back. The feel of the ball smashing into my glove has me giddy, and I’m so thankful to be at practice again.

“You’re a damn fiend, King,” she says, shaking her head and walking away.

She’s right. When it comes to this game, I am. Being away for a few days had me almost losing my mind. But, until I was fever free for twenty-four hours, Coach said to keep my ass at home.

Gigi catches the ball, but instead of firing it back right away like usual, she just stares at me with a weird expression on her face and her lips turned up.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” I lift a suspicious brow. “It’s creepin’ me out.”

She shrugs her shoulders playfully, swinging her long blonde braid over her shoulder.

“Just trying to figure out if it’s softball that has that big smile on your face or the company you’ve had lately.” She pulls her lips to the side, shrugging. “That’s all.”

“It’s softball,” I deadpan, holding my glove up. “Now, hit me.”

Turning to the side, she pulls her arm back and throws it to me, and I do the same. “Can’t a girl just be happy to be back with her team?” I call out. “It’s a beautiful fall day, sun’s out, and I’m playing softball. What could be better than that?”

“I could think of a few things,” she singsongs. “Don’t get me wrong, I love playing ball. But having a few straight days of a guy like Dallas Rivers in my bedroom, making me soup, blending me smoothies, and bringing me popsicles? That sounds like heaven.”

Catching the ball, I take it, smacking it into the leather of my glove a few times.