Chapter 18
Dustin
She was in my dorm room.
I mean, weren’t there rules? Or something?
Rules about what? I snorted. I’d been in more dorm rooms than most. Savvy was in our place more often than not, and yeah . . . I was being a dick.
I jogged down the stairs and went back outside. I just wasn’t in the mood today to deal with her.
I was second-guessing every little comment someone made these last few days. Was it just a guy being a dick? Or was it just a guy bragging about being a scumbag? I no longer knew. The hypocrisy of the latter wasn’t lost on me either.
I looked at the seniors, the guys who would have been here when Sterling was. Obviously, the best people to ask would have been the ones Noah and Dante beat up outside the bar, but were there more?
There was just no way to ask that question.
I was judging everyone. PTs, coaches, players — hell, even Big Al, the equipment guy — no one was immune to my suspicions.
She’d done this. She’d put these doubts in my head.
I resented them.
I resented her.
My phone pinged. I ignored it.
It pinged again.
“Fuck off,” I grumbled, and headed to the coffee shop.
“Dustin!”
I stopped walking, my head tipping backward as I looked at the evening sky. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
She was beside me. “You really have a flair for the dramatic,” she snarked.
I pulled out my phone, and sure enough, the two messages weren’t from my friends asking me to come back. They were warning me that she was coming after me.
“What do you want, Peterson?” I shoved my phone back into my hoodie.
Spring training was in full swing. Dante had been released early this afternoon to do media.
Noah had taken a knock to his shoulder and left early.
I’d been stuck on the sidelines, a nonparticipating player today, with nothing to do but notice things I didn’t want to notice.
Normally, I wouldn’t be worried. But I was still sure Merriman had seen me with her, and I was being punished without being openly punished.
“I didn’t want you!” she snapped. “I wanted Savannah.”
I narrowed my eyes as I watched her. “You ambushed her in front of Spence?” I asked her. “That’s . . . You’re definitely insane.” I started walking again. It didn’t deter her, and I didn’t expect it to. “If you haven’t noticed, I’m not Savvy. So go away.”
She didn’t reply, and she didn’t leave. God, she was a stubborn ass.
“Can you quit following me?” I grunted.
“I live in this direction.”
“What? North America?”
“Melodramatic and funny, no wonder you have a reputation.”
“Which you’re not helping,” I grumbled at her. “First the chasing, now you’re running after me again. Aren’t you bored?”
Hadley rolled her eyes. “Please. You give yourself too much credit.” She looked around. “No one is watching you.” She pulled her hoodie lower. “Mostly no one is watching you,” she mumbled.
There were always people watching. It was spring training, we were national champions, and the media was everywhere. This was not the place for her to be right now.
“I don’t need the extra attention,” I told her, my voice quiet.
“I know.” She shoved her hands in her hoodie pocket. “I just wanted to tell you that I wasn’t pestering you. I mean, I was. But I didn’t want you, well, I mean . . .” She cleared her throat. “I wanted to talk to Savannah. Not you.”
“You said. If you haven’t noticed, Savvy’s not here. You left her to run after me.”
She elbowed me in the ribs. “Don’t be a jerk.”
I couldn’t hide the smirk. “You bring it out in me.”
We kept walking silently, neither of us saying a word, until we reached the other side of the street from her apartment. Hadley glanced at me from the corner of her eye. “You walked me home?”
I had. I half shrugged. “I wasn’t planning to,” I said. “But I wasn’t letting you wander back out there either.” I was only half joking. I looked up at her building. “What happened to the cat?”
Hadley looked up in alarm. “Milly? Is she out?”
“Whoa, no.” I grabbed her arm as she nearly ran away from me. The passing car made her jump back. “Now I know what happened to the cat,” I griped. Looking both ways, I guided her across the street. “You and the cat need to be more aware of traffic.”
“Sorry.” She blushed with embarrassment. “She was hit by a car, her back leg was mangled, and they fixed her, but I don’t let her out anymore. She doesn’t like being contained.”
We were at the main door to her apartment. I’d noticed the other day that it didn’t close properly. “I get the feeling it’s a trait her owner shares.”
Hadley smiled, looking away. Her gaze became more focused. “Um . . . do you want to know there’s a huge sports channel van heading our way?”
I pushed her into her entrance and followed her inside, closing the door behind us.
Hadley looked at me, then at the door. “So . . . want a beer?”
And that’s how I found myself back in her apartment, watching a sports network set up shop just up the street from her building and wondering how long I had to stay here.
“Why are they there?” I asked.
She came up behind me and leaned in to point out a building halfway down the street. “On game days, they use that wide street between two of the buildings for tailgating.”
I turned to look at her. “No, tailgating is on Maberly, beside the Den.”
“Yes.” Hadley nodded. “But on less important days, when you weren’t national champions, or it’s not so good a team,” she said with a huff, “they do it here instead.” She turned to the cat.
Her voice dropped into a sweet cajole. “That’s how you got hurt, wasn’t it, baby girl?
” she said, opening a can of tuna and feeding it.
“I’ll never get to leave,” I groaned as she had a conversation with the cat behind me. “I’m stuck with the crazy cat lady.”
“You can go anytime,” she sassed back. She washed her hands and then handed me a beer. “Drink your beer and stop being a whiny little bitch. They’ll be gone soon.”
I turned away from the window and glared at her. “Your hospitality skills are lacking.”
Hadley shrugged, pulling her hoodie off. Her shirt rode up, halfway up her stomach, before she noticed it and pulled it back down. “Staring much?” She didn’t seem particularly bothered by it.
I tilted my head. “And your ego is really big.”
“It’s not ego,” she told me, picking up her beer and taking a drink. “It’s called confidence.” She kicked off her sneakers and sank onto the couch. “Do you want to know what I’ve found?”
“No.” I sat with my back to the window, watching her as I took a drink.
Hadley made a face. “Okay, scaredy cat.” She picked up her laptop from the small table and opened it. “So I—”
I crossed the room in two strides, plucking the laptop off her lap. “No. I don’t want to know, Peterson.” I set it down where it had been.
Hadley looked up at me, her eyes widening slightly. “You really do move fast,” she mumbled. “It’s impressive.”
I snorted, straightening up. “Says the girl who kept up with me.” I took another drink and frowned when the bottle was empty. “You got more?”
Wordlessly, she handed me her bottle. I sat down on the couch and took it, taking a long drink. “There.” I handed it back, and she shook it slightly.
“Thanks for leaving me some.”
I chuckled, and so did she. “So, I can’t talk about anything . . .” Hadley said, placing the now-empty bottle down. She turned her head to look at me. “What do we do?” She gestured behind her. “My laptop is my TV, and you took it from me.”
I looked around her apartment, and there really was no TV. I looked back at her. This was not a good idea to be alone with her. I knew it, and by the way she was looking at me, she knew it too.
She truly was beautiful, though. No makeup, no false eyelashes, completely natural.
I shouldn’t touch her.
I reached out and cupped her jaw, my thumb brushing the edge of her lips. She didn’t stop me either; her breath caught, and her teeth quickly dragged across her bottom lip.
“Fuck it.” I leaned across and kissed her. Not gently, not cautiously, or like I’d planned this.
As before, Hadley didn’t resist. She gasped against my mouth, and I used the sound to tilt her back onto the couch, her hands fisting in my shirt as I followed her down.
She tasted like beer and trouble. Her fingers slid around my neck. Her knee brushed my hip, making every coherent thought scatter as I lost myself in kissing her.
I kissed her deeper — hungry, frustrated, all of it blending together until I couldn’t tell where the anger ended and the desire began. Her hands pulled me closer.
“Dustin,” she whispered into my mouth, and I swear to God, I nearly lost it just from hearing my name like that.
“You’re so fucking irritating,” I breathed against her lips.
“Right back at you.” Her laugh hit my chest like a spark.
I kissed it off her mouth. She arched against me, her legs opening and resting on either side of me, causing me to groan. Her fingers curled tighter, pulling me down until our bodies fit like we’d been sculpted for this exact moment.
I broke the kiss only because oxygen was becoming a memory. She was flushed, lips swollen, eyes wide, and ravaged in the best way.
“Is this a bad idea?” she whispered.
“Yeah,” I said, brushing my mouth against hers again. “Ask me if I care.”
She didn’t ask; instead, she pulled me back down.
And I went willingly.
Her mouth opened beneath mine as if she’d been waiting — not minutes, not days, but weeks — and the sound she made when I kissed her again shot straight through me. Everything else faded away. None of it mattered.
All I could feel was her.
Her hands slid beneath my shirt, warm fingers tracing up my ribs, and I nearly shivered. No one had ever touched me like that — as if they wanted to feel every part of me I kept hidden.
Our kissing became more frantic. She pulled me closer as she shifted farther onto the couch, and I braced a knee between the cushions so I wouldn’t crush her, though I wasn’t sure I could think clearly enough to care.
“Dustin—”
My name on her lips definitely wrecked me.
Soft. Breathless. Wanting.