Endgame (The Atlanta Boys)

24. Callaway

24

CALLAWAY

After leaving Dakota’s sleeping form and locking up behind me last night, I went home to find Bodhi passed out on the couch. I have yet to find out what the rest of his night looked like, but asking around and researching the best psychologist for him is at the top of my to-do list today.

My internal clock has missed the message that this week calls for sleeping in and laziness. It wakes me up at seven to a silent house, which most likely means the guys are still sleeping.

I can’t even remember the last time I laid in bed all morning with no plans, games, or anyone needing anything from me; it’s refreshing.

My thoughts drift to last night with Dakota.

My sweet and tortured girl. Her pain makes me want to physically break things. Her comment about missing them, and then her Dad’s fifty second birthday, throws me off a little. I know very little regarding her relationship with her parents. I’d like to know more, though.

I can’t stand that there are parts of her I’m still trying to figure out—parts she has yet to learn about me .

Somehow, I’m able to read her like a book. My worry over her is sinking deep in my stomach. I decide to call her and maybe ask some questions if the opportunity presents itself.

Picking up my phone, I click the call button on her contact.

She picks up on the third ring, “Hello?”

“It’s me.”

“How did you get my number?”

“Good morning to you too. I got it from Navy when I first picked you up at the DDS in case I couldn’t find you. It seems I’d need it eventually.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?”

“You know what, Callaway? I’m not proud of how I acted, and I know I’m lucky you were there.”

“Not gonna lie, Dakota, but you scared the shit out of me. I didn’t know what happened to you to get to that point. You can’t do that shit again.”

I’m pissed she jeopardized her safety like that.

“I know, I’m sorry. It’s just that yesterday was my Dad’s birthday, and I thought I could handle it. I thought I could handle the pain of them not being on this earth anymore, but I can’t. I can’t fucking breathe sometimes, Cal. I’m suffocating, and the alcohol…it was just there. I needed not to feel for a moment. I needed a moment.”

She lost them. Permanently.

I’m such a clueless bastard. That makes sense why she was alone. She has no one to be upset with.

Her sniffling through the end of the phone has me almost out of the bed, headed straight towards her.

“Fuck, Dakota. I’m sorry. Had I known, I would have done everything to make sure you weren’t alone. ”

“It’s fine. It’s not like you had a way of knowing. I knew Navy had her big interview the next morning so I didn’t exactly tell her either.”

“Can I ask you something? You can say no.”

“Yes.”

“What happened to them? Your parents.”

“Car accident. They were hit by a drunk driver a year ago.”

I hate that. She didn’t lose one, but both of them. Life is fucking cruel.

“I’m sorry. You must miss them.” Her heavy exhale tells me I’m spot on.

“You have no idea.”

“I could tell you were going through something when we first met. It’s understandable for you to feel angry. I don’t think anyone could be prepared for living through such a significant loss.”

I’ll listen as long as she needs.

“That’s only part of it. The other part is that I didn’t get to say goodbye. That’s the reality that haunts me.”

Jesus. I can’t imagine not having that closure with my parents.

“What happened?”

“My ex, Trevor, happened. When my Aunt Greta called with the news I needed to come quickly because there wasn’t much time, he was adamant about me staying. He said things like, “Wait until you hear from the doctors” or “they will be fine, Kodi, just relax.” So I never showed, and I never heard from the doctors. An hour later, Aunt Greta called me back in hysterics, letting me know I was too late, and they had passed. Ten minutes apart from each other. They were gone.”

I’ve decided Trevor is next up on my shit list.

“ I’ll hold off on my comment of that dipshit boyfriend you had and start with saying ‘I’m sorry.’ Hearing what you have gone through seems like such an unfair thing to face alone. It makes sense why Navy hasn’t been around much this past year. I’m glad you had her to help get you through the loss of them. I know after losing my birth mother that the pain doesn’t go away, but it does become manageable.”

“That means so much for you to say. Thank you. Navy was, and still is, a constant in my life. I do feel better, and the days are getting easier; it’s the important days that sneak up on me and make me want to crawl in a hole and die.”

I want to take away her pain right here, right now.

She’s so much stronger than she gives herself credit for.

Before I have a chance to speak up, her voice cuts in, “I didn’t realize your birth mother passed. Navy never mentioned it. I’m sorry you lost her. That must have been difficult to process.”

“Thank you. Thankfully, her death didn’t affect me much since I was living in a home with so much love at the time; however, the stain of her neglect couldn’t have been forgotten. But I guess knowing the chance of her ever-making things right with me is gone; it still sucks.”

“You’ve been through the unthinkable, it sounds like. Seems we both have some scars that run deeper than the pain.”

“It looks like we do. I’m happy to listen whenever you need me. Let me know if you need anything. I’ll see you soon, Dakota.”

I end the call with her story still running through my thoughts. I learned more about Dakota in that ten-minute phone call than I have in months. I can’t help but feel the pivotal shift in our dynamic.

I welcome it.

I’m deciding this week off will be my chance to dig deeper with her and get to know the woman who makes up Dakota Foster. From what I just learned, she’s clothed in layers of beauty, emotional and physical, ones I vow to myself that I’ll protect at all costs.

The filthy side of me, especially since her breathy morning voice woke me up, is so turned on by her playfulness last night. I didn’t think I could resist not stealing a peek. It seems I have more restraint than I thought. The night would have ended much differently than her drunken goodbye.

I’ve been in a constant state of blue balls where she’s concerned.

If I don’t relieve this steel rod that’s been hard as stone since she’s been around, I’ll lose my goddamn mind.

Deciding now is my chance, I slowly lower my hand underneath the comforter and slide my boxer briefs down my legs to give my hand better access. There’s no chance of this feeling remotely as good as it would if her plump lips were wrapped and choking around me, but my hand will have to do it. Shockingly, the idea of getting out and finding a random tight hole to sink into hasn’t tempted me in the slightest.

Since Dakota.

Her curves that mesmerize me.

I act fast, feeling like I’m already teetering on the edge of my impending orgasm, and grab my cock. The first touch of my hand at the tip sends my body into overdrive.

My imagination takes me back to last week with Dakota. The team finished training for the day, showered and loaded up to head out. Gathering my training gear from the locker room, I was startled by the sound of feminine grunting. Hoping it was Dakota, I made my way to the weight room and came face to face with the plumpest set of cheeks I’ve ever seen, spandex shorts so tight I could see the dimples above her crack as she lowered her sexy body into a weighted squat. Zero shame came over me as I watched her over and over lift from a squat, clenching her cheeks and driving up with her hips, then back down again. The twisted part of me wanted so badly to slide up behind her, pull her leggings down and impale her ass with my cock.

But I refrained because willpower.

Dragging my hand from root to tip across my shaft, her face and body are at the forefront of my lustful thoughts. The smallest of peeks led me to imagine the fuller picture. Her curvy body, molded like fucking silk, looked like it was created to be touched by my hands. I slide my hand to the base and begin fisting myself in a slow motion that teases my cock to an all-time high. If I would’ve allowed myself a little more time to appreciate the view of her, I’m sure I would have seen her perky tits full and begging to be touched. The steam from the shower surrounding her body in a tranquil setting, sending trails of water to seep down the path of her endless curves. Her pussy was right there, pulsing and starved for my touch.

It’s been so long since I’ve come. Feeling desperate for a release, her name falls from my lips. “Dakota. Fuuuuck.” My body hums to life as I slowly tighten my fist and draw it upwards in a slow motion, caressing the tip. Fantasies of her stunning hazel eyes on mine, while I make her take me into her mouth, send me falling over the edge.

“Holy fuuuck.”

Jesus . I look down to see my cum in a mess, smeared across my stomach. I feel zero relief. Thinking getting myself off would make me crave her less, I’m left only wanting her more.

I’m such a twisted fucker. I got myself off after she poured her heart out to me. What is wrong with me ?

No wonder she isn’t interested in dating me; I wouldn’t even date me.

I shouldn’t be doing this when I don’t fully have her heart. It’s not mine to fantasize over and pretend I have. She deserves better than some horny teenager fucking his hand over her and sneaking a peek.

I need to be better. Get my shit together, man the fuck up, and take what I want.

Her heart. That is what I want.

I shower quickly and change into casual clothes, ready to make my move. It’s time to change things up and finally get my girl's attention.