Page 57 of Saving The Shortstop

“You knew about that?” I whisper, remembering that my brother had fallen asleep on the couch when it happened, and when I came back into the house to get him, crying, Dallas rode his bike over. I wasn’t going to tell him what happened, but within ten seconds of seeing me on the verge of tears, he demanded I tell him the truth.

“We have cameras down the entire driveway, lovebug,” she says with a giggle before she sighs, becoming serious again. “I could sit here for hours and tell you all the ways you and D told all of us how much you cared for each other without actually saying a word, but I don’t need to.” She kisses the side of my head. “Everyone will be happy you two finally stopped fighting it. But I am going to also tell you this. When Dallas tries to push you away—because he will—it’s important if you really do love him the way I think you do, to stay. Because until Lane and Memphis, no one ever stayed for him. And in a lot of ways, I’m sure that’s still in the back of his mind and probably always will be.”

I lean against my mom, feeling a twinge of pain tug my heart because I know she’s right. I can feel it inside me that Dallas is going to pull back once the dust settles. Too bad for him, I’m not giving up on something I’ve waited this long for that easily.

TWENTY-FOUR

HAVEN

When I got word after the game that Tabor’s exact location wasn’t known for sure, but that given what his parents told my dad and the police, it was highly unlikely that he was in the area, I was still a bit nervous. So, instead of going back to The Nest or staying with Dallas at The Tower, he suggested we stay at his parents’ since they are out of town for a few weeks on vacation. It’s not too far from campus but gives enough distance to make me feel a bit better.

While my dad didn’t come out and say anything about me and Dallas, he knows what’s going on. And even though he was pushing for me to come stay at their house with them, I told him I wanted to keep things as normal as I could. In reality, I just wanted to pick up where I left off with a certain quarterback this morning, and to do that, I needed us to be alone.

Tabor is likely humiliated after everything that went down, and hopefully he’ll just stay away from NEU forever. My dad will never allow him to suit up for him again, and hopefully, after the police review everything and question him, he’ll never be allowed on campus either. So far, everything has been kept on the down-low, but I’m worried once he’s actually found and brought in for questioning, it’s going to get out that he had the pictures of me.

I owe Lilly so much for what she did. She may only be a freshman who was able to have the rules bent to stay at The Nest, but she’s quickly proved to me that I can trust her.

I glance over at Dallas as we turn into his parents’ driveway, and he rolls the window down to punch a code into the gate. Even if Tabor is around, this place will obviously be safer than anywhere on Eagle’s Way, that’s for sure.

When we pull through, Dallas drives down the path before the large house comes into view, and my heart starts to pound. Tonight might be the night that I have sex with the one person I’ve long dreamed of sleeping with.

I won’t deny there’s always been a thick tension between me and Dallas. But after this morning? After the things we did? Now that we’re all alone, that tension is a thousand times higher. And by the time I’m following him inside the house, it’s almost magnetic between us, and I’m damn near losing my mind.

“I rinsed after the game, but I forgot my soap, so I’m going to go in and shower real quick,” he says, dropping his bag down. It’s almost like he’s nervous or unsure of something, and I don’t know if I’m supposed to follow him into the bathroom or stand here and wait.

Walking over to the coffee table, he grabs the remote before approaching me. “Find something for us to watch if you want.”

Holding it out in his hand, he leans forward to kiss my cheek. Like he didn’t have his face buried between my legs earlier or something.

I take the remote, still standing, awkwardly stuck in one spot. “Thanks,” I mutter, confused as he grabs his bag again and heads toward his bedroom.

What the fuck is going on?

This morning, I thought that we had turned a major corner. Now, he’s back to treating me like I’m his sister or something.

Plopping myself down on the couch, I let out a long, deep, disappointed breath. I thought tonight would be filled with sex and me falling deeper in love with Dallas than I already am. Instead, he’s naked in the shower, and I’m on the damn couch alone.

This is bullshit.

Complete and utter bullshit.

When I hear the water turn on, I think back to the last time I saw him in the shower. I watched him as he wrapped his hand around his large, hard length. I should have looked away—it was an invasion of privacy on so many levels—but I couldn’t. I stood there in the window, eventually sliding my hand into my own leggings to relieve the ache that was brought on as he pleasured himself in that outdoor shower and kept myself tucked back so he thought he was all alone and couldn’t be seen.

I squirm around, biting down on my bottom lip as I recall watching as he climaxed. His chin tilted upward, his body visibly quivering.

I can’t fucking take it. I came here expecting to be fucked by Dallas. To once and for all go all the damn way. And I’m sure as hell not going to sit here and wait for him to make a move on me. Or worse, sit back while he slowly pulls away now that Tabor is gone and his grades are up.

Shooting up from the couch, I charge toward the bathroom. I peel my leggings and socks off before I even make it to the door. And then when I slip inside, even through the steamed-up glass, I can make out the sight of Dallas. He’s turned, giving me a clear shot of his dick, and even though he’s in here alone, it stands straight out, demanding attention.

“Fuck,” he utters at literally no one. He slaps his palm to the tiled wall aggressively. “God fucking damnit!” He hisses the words loudly, and it’s more than obvious he’s irritated. But what about? I have no idea.

I’m irritated too, asshole. Irritated you’re in here, alone, keeping your massively hard, beautiful dick all to yourself.

I’m just about to ask him what his problem is, but the words die in my throat because his hand dips down and he wraps his palm around himself. Thank God the shower drowns out the sound that squeaks from my lips when I whimper as he begins to slide his hand back and forth, keeping the other hand on the wall.

I squeeze my thighs together, my face growing hotter with each passing second of Dallas pleasuring himself, and I think I may combust and turn into the shower steam, never to be seen or heard from again. I’m that turned on right now.

“Fuck, Haven.” He utters the words so quietly that I’m not even sure I heard him right. “Take it,” he says again, this time a little louder but still barely audible. “It’s yours.”