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Deep breaths. Calming breaths.
It only takes a glance in the wrong direction at the wrong time and it all comes flooding back.
I force a small smile to my lips, unclenching my fists and only just now realizing how my nails dug into my skin. As I reach for the water bottle in my bag, I lift my gaze back to the field, only to find Dean staring at me. The grim look proves he was watching me and knowing that, I can’t breathe.
It’s like he can see right through me. I’m saved by the loud clap of someone else sitting in the bleachers behind me. Our connection is broken and only then is my body willing to play it off. To relax and pretend like it’s all right.
Dean is like a drug to a recovering addict.
He makes me question everything. All the things I have planned.
He makes me want to run but at the same time, he paralyzes me.
Five more minutes and I’ll leave, I promise myself.
I’m waiting for them to break up their huddle and keep playing, but that’s not what happens.
The bottle nearly slips from my grasp as Dean strides over to me and the other guys line up on the field without him.
Dean takes a seat next to me and I’m instantly hit with his warmth and masculine scent. His sweat smells sweet and addictive.
“What are you doing?” he asks me.
“I was watching this hot guy who has a crush on me play this dumb sport,” I say and fail to hide my smile as I add, “He gave up, though.”
He chuckles and that gorgeous smile flickers onto his face. “I wasn’t sure you were going to stay, and I wanted to make sure I let you know before you left that we’re having a party tomorrow night at James’s place,” he tells me.
“First a game and now a party?” I ask him, taking another swig from the bottle and fiddling with the plastic cap in my left hand. “You like asking me on dates, don’t you?”
He shrugs and glances at the guys on the field, but I keep my eyes on him. “I think you’ll like the party better. I’ll be able to give you a little more attention.”
I roll my eyes and almost turn back to the field, but I stop myself. I don’t want to look that way right now.
“You think if you get a little alcohol in me, you’ll have a better chance?” I ask him, although I keep glancing behind him to the right side of the field to see if any of the guys are watching us.
Dean makes a show of looking over his shoulder in the direction I keep checking out before shifting to block my view and standing a little closer. His broad shoulders tower over me. This is the second time he’s been this close to me, and it only makes me want to be closer.
I can smell his unique, sexy scent and feel the heat in his eyes when I meet his gaze. It’s a heady combination. To have someone you’re innately drawn to so close. To know they want something you also want. But to also know with complete certainty it’s the last thing you should do. The temptation heats the air around us and turns everything to a blur of white noise.
“I don’t need a better chance,” he finally answers me, his eyes narrowing. “I already told you, I want you and I’m not going to stop until you’re screaming my name just how I want to hear it.”
“So confident,” I say, although it comes out differently than I’d planned. It was supposed to be sarcastic but instead, there’s a hint of reverence.
“Come to the party,” he tells me like it’s a command and ignores the voices on the field. The ones calling out for him to head back. I use that as my excuse to leave.
“You go play, and I’ll see you this weekend,” I answer him without thinking.
“You’re leaving already?” he asks me and I nod.
“I’ve got shit to do now that I have plans for tomorrow.” He likes that; I can tell by the way he smiles, and it does something to me. Something it shouldn’t.
“Twenty sixteen Broom Street,” he tells me, but I already know the address.
DEAN
“So, what do you think about college?” Dr. Robinson asks me. He lowers his thick, horn-rimmed glasses and sets them down on the notepad in his lap. “Is it a good change?”
My right ankle rests on my left knee as I sit back, running both my hands through my hair. “Yeah, it’s different. It’s good.”
