Chapter 26
Hadley
The second I shut the passenger door, I regretted every decision that had led me here — starting with befriending Savannah Cole and ending with not sprinting in the opposite direction when Dustin Slater honked at me like a pissed-off Uber driver.
He didn’t look at me. Not once. Hands tight on the steering wheel, jaw flexing under the streetlights as he pulled out of the parking lot like he had somewhere better to be.
Fine.
Great.
Perfect way to kick off a two-hour hostage situation.
I lasted twenty minutes of silence before I crossed my arms and glared at him. “You’re welcome, by the way.”
He gave a humorless scoff. “For what?”
“For me gracing you with my presence,” I snapped. “Since you’ve been working so hard to avoid it.”
Silence. Tense, hot, and uncomfortable.
“Don’t flatter yourself, Peterson.”
There it was. The condescension. The bite. The reminder that he was angry too — which meant the other night had gotten under his skin just as much as it had under mine.
“Could’ve fooled me,” I muttered. “You sprinted away from me the other day like I was an IRS audit.”
He didn’t laugh, not even a hint of a smile. All he did was grip the wheel tighter, knuckles white. “You’re mistaken. That’s not what happened.”
“Really? Because I’m pretty sure you bolted. Like, Usain Bolt–level bolted.”
Dustin grunted but said nothing.
The silence stretched between us again, thick and strangling. His jaw kept working, his breath kept shifting, his posture kept tightening — and I realized he wasn’t unreadable. He was unraveling, just like me.
Did I broach the subject? I was pissed, but I wasn’t a complete bitch.
Much.
“Are you going to say something,” I demanded, “or are we driving the whole way in monk mode?”
Still nothing.
My irritation bloomed like a rash. “I know why I was avoiding you. Care to explain your side? Or does that require adult communication?”
That did it. He swerved to the side of the road, ignoring my yelp of surprise and the honks from other drivers. His hand shot out and grabbed my chin, not rough, just enough, forcing me to look at him.
“Hadley.” Just my name — low, rough, frayed at the edges. I swallowed my demand of ‘what the fuck is wrong with you?’
“It’s not—” Dustin stopped, exhaled, and tried again. “I didn’t avoid you because of what you think.”
“Oh?” I folded my arms tighter. “And what do I think?”
His thumb brushed over my bottom lip, his eyes on my mouth. “That I’m an asshole.”
I snorted. “You are an asshole.”
He looked up at me then — brief, sharp, loaded — before pulling his hand back like he’d thought better of it.
“Well,” he muttered, “you didn’t seem to think that the other night.”
My pulse spiked, and my cheeks warmed. “Yeah, well . . . You started that,” I hissed.
“You finished half of it.”
Now that he was talking, saying the things about the whole ‘incident,’ I wanted to crawl out the window. “Forget it, we need to forget it, it was stupid.”
Dustin sighed. “Yeah, it was.”
Ouch. “Yeah, I got the hint when you walked away, Slater.”
“Peterson,” he snapped, the word coming out in a low growl. “Stop. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, please, of course I do!” I fired back. “I was there.”
“It’s not what you think.”
“Then enlighten me.”
“We need to catch up.” He signaled and then pulled out. “This is getting us nowhere.”
The car filled with silence again — but different this time. It had been thick and uncomfortable before, but now it was charged. Almost dangerous.
He dragged a hand across his jaw, the move sharp, frustrated, almost wild. “I’m not doing this with you right now.”
I looked at him in surprise at his outburst. “Fine.”
He shook his head, sucking his top teeth, then looked over at me. “Nah. See, you say fine. You don’t mean fine. You don’t mean anything like fine. This is the furthest thing from fine!”
I rolled my eyes. “Fine.”
He snorted. In some weird way, that just made my temper hotter.
“You know what? You’re right. It isn’t fine.
You pinned me against that wall and gave me an orgasm!
You had me on my knees in the street and then you walked away like you’d proven your point, and I get that.
I do. I have a big mouth, and you put me in my place.
High fucking five to you, Slater. But to then avoid me?
To then turn and run away because you don’t want to talk to me?
That’s a low fucking blow.” I drew in a deep breath.
“I’m not going to chase you. I’m not obsessed with you.
You kiss well, your fingers have skills, and you have a nice dick.
Good for you. So do you and lots of other guys out there.
Get over it, and get over yourself.” I shifted in my seat, temper still high.
“Or don’t, and just keep on avoiding me.
And do that for another week. Another month. Another—”
“I didn’t avoid you,” he barked.
His volume stunned me quiet.
He swallowed, voice dropping. “I avoided what I’d do if I didn’t avoid you.”
My breath hitched. He didn’t look at me, but the admission sat between us like a live wire.
“I’m trying,” he said quietly, every word strained, “to keep the line where it should be. You make that . . . difficult.”
I blinked. Hard. “So it’s my fault?”
“No.” He shook his head. “It’s mine. And I know that. That’s the problem.”
His sincerity shut me up. I wasn’t ready for sincerity. I was prepared for arrogance, deflection, and ego. Not Dustin Slater admitting anything remotely vulnerable. I stared out the window so he wouldn’t see the confusion on my face.
“Well,” I muttered, “you still handled it like a jerk.”
He huffed a breath — not quite a laugh, but close. “Yeah. I’m aware.”
“And just so you know,” I added, “ignoring me doesn’t actually make things disappear.”
“Neither does pretending it wasn’t—” He cut off, jaw snapping shut.
“Wasn’t what?”
He shook his head once, tight. “Not going there.”
Coward. But before I could say it aloud, his phone buzzed in the console. He glanced down briefly and swore.
“Noah wants to know if I’ve killed you yet,” he said with a shake of his head. “After your last rant, I don’t know why I haven’t either.”
“It wasn’t a rant,” I mumbled, cheeks flushing. It might have been a rant.
“You don’t need to rant,” he said quietly. “We’re adults. We hooked up. It could have been better—”
“Excuse me?”
He rubbed his hand across his eyes. “Jesus Lord, I will never fucking swear again if you make her stop,” he whispered fervently.
“Jesus is on my side,” I snapped at him. “He doesn’t like skanky hos.”
“Says the girl who was on her knees on the sidewalk, ready to swallow my dick.”
I quickly turned in my seat. “I knew you judged me, you complete asshole—”
His mouth was on mine.
His mouth was on mine hard and firm, and that’s a different word for the same thing, but he was kissing me, and he was driving.
I jerked backward. “Are you insane? You’re driving!” I scrubbed my hand along my mouth. “Are you trying to kill us?”
“No,” he bit out. “But it’s the only way I know how to shut you up.”
A burst of surprised laughter escaped me. I pressed my fingers against my mouth, trying to hold back the laughter, but it wasn’t working. Dustin glanced at me and grinned, and we both started laughing.
“You’re fucking crazy, you know that, right?” he asked as we calmed down.
“I prefer passionate,” I said primly, still smiling at the ridiculousness of it all.
“Call it passionate, call it whatever — wild’s still wild, baby.”
His phone dinged again. “They’re in Cardinal, we need to speed this up. You done with all the—” his hand waved in my general direction — “you stuff?”
“The ‘you stuff’?” I tipped my head back against the seat. “You mean the crazy us stuff. Yeah.” I didn’t look at him. “I’m done.”
He surprised me when his hand covered my knee and squeezed. “Later, remember?”
He didn’t remove his hand, and I didn’t push it away. The way he affected me should have worried me. I simply nodded. The silence as we drove had less frenetic energy. It was almost comfortable.
We hit a town called Cardinal, and I looked around. “Who are we coming to meet?” And why was I only asking now?
“Ava. She’s a student at Cardinal, she’s cool.” He glanced over at me. “She knows stats like an algorithm knows stats. She’s impressive.”
“Oh.” I flipped the sun visor down; the vanity mirror lit up automatically, and I checked my hair and wished I’d brought some lipstick.
“You look good, Peterson.”
I flipped the visor back up. “What’s the deal with Dante and their QB?”
Dustin rolled his eyes. “It’s just sports stuff. Ego and testosterone.”
“Sounds stupid.” I fixed my sweater.
“No doubt.”
We pulled in behind Savannah’s car. The three of them were outside, lounging. I noticed Noah was eating something.
Dustin got out, and I heard Noah ask if I was still breathing. I got out too.
“Har har, you’re all so funny,” I snarked at them.
“You still have her friend’s number?” Dante asked Dustin. “I never thought to ask before.”
“I have Ash’s number,” Dustin said.
“Is Ash the friend?” I asked, hoping the stab of jealousy I was pretending hadn’t happened wasn’t noticeable.
“Ash Santo, tight end,” Dante explained. “Why do you have his number?”
And I thought I was the jealous one. Wow.
Dustin put his phone to his ear, Dante shook his head, and Dustin put the phone on speaker. “Because I went to school with him,” he said as if that explained it.
He waited, and then we heard the deep voice. “Dust?”
“Hey, Ash, yeah, it’s me. How you doing?” They exchanged brief pleasantries. “Hey, look, this is going to sound weird, but any chance you can give me Ava’s number, or give her mine to call me?”
“What the fuck for?”
My eyes widened in surprise. He didn’t sound friendly anymore.
“Because we need to talk to her about something,” Dustin said with an eye roll. “I’m not interested in hooking up with her.”
He actually had to tell him that? God, he really was a manwhore.
“Hi, Dustin!” A cheery, bright voice was on the phone.
“Mia?” Dustin grinned. “My sweet girl, how are you?”