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“Evidently you found your way. My anger has nothing to do with Paula—it’s all directed at you. Now please leave. Text me with your new address. I do want to know where you are in case of an emergency. If my leg falls off, you might want to know.”
I don’t need him. I don’t.
ChapterTwenty-Eight
Hagan
Why doesAdalee always rev my engine when she knows I have to leave? Her voice drips with sex appeal.Come back over and you’ll find out.As soon as I’m finished with the team dinner I call. I can write my papers after I skim her skin with my lips and make her scream my name.
No answer.
Again, no answer.
Again, no answer.
Where is she? Driving straight to her house, my Rover comes to a screeching halt as I jump out of the car. My gut tells me something is wrong. Did she fall in shower and hit her head? Did someone break in? Did she go for a run and not take her phone because that shit isn’t safe at ten in the evening.
I ring the doorbell, wait two seconds and knock on the door, then five seconds later I’m shouting, “Adalee. Adalee, open up.”
Erika bounces down the steps. “She left.”
“For where?”
“I don’t know. Her dad came here unexpectedly, and they got into a heated discussion. I saw him leave, and then a little while later I heard the door slam and saw her running.”
“She’s not supposed to be running yet. Fuck.” I remove hat and rake my fingers through my hair. “Which way did she go?”
Erika points to he left. “Thanks.” I run and hop in my vehicle, going through streets of the apartment housing. I go by the baseball house. Ginger and Joe haven’t seen her. They try to call and still no answer. Then it occurs to me that she might come to me. We haven’t been dating long but she did tell me her mom died and her dad wasn’t going to win any awards for parenting.
Shit.
When I pull up at my house, she’s sitting on my front porch with her arms wrapped around her knees. I can’t get out of the car fast enough. She stands as she sees me coming and runs into my arms. “Fuck, babe. I’ve been so worried. I called you a hundred times and then you weren’t home or at the baseball house. And why didn’t you go inside?”
Her nose is against my shoulder, wetting my shirt with tears. “Nobody answered.”
“Oh, yeah. They’re gone because they have an away game at LSU Saturday. I forgot they were scheduled to leave earlier tonight. Come on, let’s go inside. I’ll make you feel better,” I move my brows in quick succession in an attempt to lighten the mood.
Instead of getting a smartass remark likeyou wishorin your dreams, she says, “Okay. So, we have the house to ourselves?” The breathy tone in her voice leaves no doubt that she wants to have sex.
We break our embrace as she peers at me with her almond shaped eyes. “Yeah,” is all I can say. I want her skin sticking to mine and feel how our bodies respond to each other, but not until she tells me what happened tonight. I want our first time together to be because she wants it so bad she can’t wait any longer. Not because she’s upset at her father.
Scrambling for my keys, I unlock the door. “You need a door hanger.” Adalee attempts a joke at least I hope it was a joke—guys don’t have door decorations.
My brain can’t think of something to say, so I hold her hand and sit down on the couch bringing her with me. I angle toward her. The air inside is thick and smothering, reminding me of practice on a hot August day. “Erika said your dad came by. What happened?”
She sniffs. “I don’t want to talk about it.” She reaches for my face, clearly wanting to kiss me. “Please just have sex with me. You said you would make me feel better.”
“No, babe. Not until you confide in me. I promised you I’d be here for you. And as much as I want fuck you into tomorrow, we’re not doing anything until you tell me.”
Her eyes widen. Her face trembles and teeth make the sound when you’re cold or crying. The floodgates behind her lids open and she sobs. I pull her into me. I don’t even understand what happened but my eyes blur with tears too. Damn. When my girl hurts, it hurts me too.
I do everything I know. What I’ve seen my brothers do—rock her gently, hold her tight, and stroke her hair. This is heartbreaking. When her sobs slow and a normal breathing pattern returns, I whisper, “Why did he come here?”
She sucks up her tears while laying on my shoulder. “He… he…got remarried and didn’t bother to tell me until he showed up tonight.”
Fucking bastard.
“I’m so sorry.” I hold her tighter. Does her father not have on ounce of human decency? It’s one thing to be full of grief and withdraw from the world but to deliberately get married and not tell your daughter is an asshole move.
