Chapter 16
TALLY
Ihave just rolled out of bed and put on a pot of coffee when there’s a knock at the door.
Cammie often pops by in the morning because Chase uses an obscene amount of cream in his coffee, and they frequently run out.
Parsnip rushes down the hall, meowing excitedly.
“No escaping this morning.” I scoop him up and throw the door open without looking through the peephole. This is my first mistake.
It’s not my pint-size friends standing in the hall. It’s Flip.
Flip who took me out for dinner and spent most of it feeding me.
Flip who kissed me and told me he wanted to take it slow.
Flip who I dreamed about last night, and in it, a hell of a lot more than kissing happened.
He looks far more awake and put together in his jeans, hoodie, and winter jacket than I do. He’s holding a takeout tray with coffees and a bakery box.
“Hey.” His gaze moves over me in a way that warms me from the inside. “Did I wake you?”
“No. I was already up.” Barely. I’m wearing pajama pants, an oversized long-sleeved shirt, and ridiculous slippers.
I probably have lines on my face and a wicked case of bedhead.
Parsnip squirms around in my arms, the allure of the hallway a forbidden temptation.
I shake off my daze and step back to make room for Flip. “You should come in.”
As soon as the door closes, I drop Parsnip, who promptly rubs himself against Flip’s legs while meowing loudly.
“You’re such a harlot,” I scold. I wish I could do that without it being weird.
“A cute harlot.” Flip toes off his shoes. “I brought breakfast.” He kisses me on the cheek and walks down the hall.
“That was really sweet.” I follow him into the kitchen.
I don’t know how to interpret this visit. The last twenty-four hours have been surreal.
“Have a seat.” He pulls a chair out for me, and I gratefully park my ass because once again, my knees are made of Jell-O.
“Is everything okay?” I’m so anxious. And I really wish I had a mirror and my toothbrush and a different pair of underwear on.
“We need to talk.” He opens the box and angles it toward me. It’s full of my favorites. I love every single baked good in this box.
“Okay.” I wish my stomach didn’t feel like it wants to turn itself inside out.
Flip meets my anxious gaze with a steady one. “I had a great time with you last night.”
I’m a fluttering, excited mess now. “Me, too.”
He tucks my hair behind my ear. “I like you.”
I’m at risk of melting into the floor. “I like you, too.”
“When the girls go to your showcases, I always try to find a reason to tag along because I love watching you dance. And I love it when you come to games, especially when you come to the Watering Hole afterward so I can find out what you’ve been up to.
I started reading all the books you recommend because it gives me a reason to message you, especially when I think I’ve found your favorite part. ”
My mouth is dry, my palms are sweaty, and my heart is pounding. What he’s saying is exactly what I always dreamed. And now it’s coming true. It seems impossible, but also like this is the best week of my entire life. “I love that you always seem to know exactly what part is my favorite.”
“To be fair, those corners usually have a crease in them.” His eyebrow lifts.
My cheeks heat. “I knew I should have used flags instead.”
“It’s been very insightful.” Flip has the audacity to smirk and look hot doing it.
I pull my shirt up to cover the bottom of my face. The other scenes I dog-ear are the spicy ones.
“I’ve been making notes of my own.” He winks and covers my hand with his, bringing it to his lips. “I like spending time with you, Talls.”
“I like spending time with you, too.”
“I want to date you.”
I surreptitiously pinch my thigh to make sure I’m actually awake. My heart stutters. “Date me?”
My experience is limited to university age man-boys who want to meet up at some party. Eventually a group movie night ensues, and then a few weeks or a month down the line, dinner at a restaurant off campus.
“I’d like to take you on a real date, one that’s planned, where I pick you up, take you somewhere nice, and treat you like a queen,” he says with genuine seriousness.
“That sounds...” Perfect. Amazing. Terrifying. “I’d like that.” I don’t know what to do with my hands, so I clasp them together to keep from fidgeting. Parsnip bumps against my legs under the table.
“I’d like to see where this goes.” He laces our fingers. “But you won’t be a secret I have to keep.”
I swallow my guilt over the way I propositioned him. “I don’t want that either.”
“Good. That’s good, kitten.” He nods once. “I know you already get unwanted attention because you’re the coach’s daughter, and dating me will bring more of that. I have a past that isn’t always pretty, and it will likely be dredged up.”
“I know what the media is like,” I assure him.
“I will do everything I can to protect you, but my past has been pretty prolific,” he says gently. “You might read or hear things that make you uncomfortable, and if that happens, I need you to come to me.”
“Okay. I will.” I breathe through my nerves.
“No brave faces. If something bothers you, I want to know about it,” he insists. “I need you to promise me.”
“I promise.”
“Good girl.”
A thrill shoots down my spine at the praise.
“I’ll deal with your dad.” Flip kisses the inside of my wrist.
“Deal with him how?”
“Talk to him. Explain that I want to date you.”
“What if he says no?”
“He won’t.” He squeezes my hand, reading my nerves. “Do you need time to think this through, Tally?”
I shake my head. “I know the risks and challenges. Not just for me, but for you.” That he’s willing to put himself on the line like this is humbling and elating.
“That’s good.” Flip pushes out of his chair and pulls me to my feet. His dark eyes glitter with satisfaction as he strokes the edge of my jaw. “Soon you’ll be mine.”
My knees nearly buckle.
He bends to press a soft kiss to my lips. But he doesn’t deepen it. Instead, he straightens. “Have a good day, kitten.”
“Wait. What?” That’s it? I’m so confused.
“I have practice in an hour, and you have dance rehearsal.” He motions to the whiteboard fixed to the wall with my schedule.
“But, but…I thought...” What did I think? That we’d end up in my bedroom making out after establishing our mutual desire to date? Based on the pinging in all my sensitive spots, the answer to that is yes.
“I can’t afford to be late today of all days, and neither can you.”
“Wait!” I grab his arm.
He turns back to me, expression amused.
“Aren’t you going to kiss me?”
The corner of his mouth kicks up. “I did kiss you.”
“I mean a real kiss. Like the one from last night.”
He cups my chin in his palm, fingers curving around my jaw as he tips my head back and slants his mouth over mine.
I gasp and part for him. He sweeps my mouth on a low groan, and our tongues brush and tangle.
When I try to wrap myself around him, he breaks the kiss and pulls back. “Is that what you wanted, kitten?”
“Yes, Phillip.” I’m breathless and achy, and he looks completely in control.
“If I let you go, will you be good and not try to wind yourself around me like your cat?”
“Maybe.”
He arches a brow. “What was that?”
“I’ll be good.” I might as well be a puddle.
He kisses my cheek, then releases his gentle hold on my jaw. “I’ll message you later. Have a good morning, kitten.”
“You, too.”
He scoops up Parsnip and passes him to me. “I’ll see myself out.” He disappears down the hall. The door clicks shut a few seconds later. I glance at the clock. I’m already running behind for dance practice.
“Shit. I don’t even have time to handle the fucking pinging in my panties.”
I message my group to let them know I’ll be a few minutes late and rush to get ready.
There’s nothing that can be done about my frazzled state as I sprint across campus to the dance studio. Except when I arrive, my troupe isn’t in the studio warming up. Instead, they’re huddled in a group with their phones in their hands.
“Is the studio double-booked again?” It’s happened before.
Charles looks up from his phone. He gives me a questioning once-over. “Are you okay?”
“Fine. Just had a hard time getting out the door.” I’m usually more put together, but it isn’t every day that the man of my dreams shows up asking to date me and turns me into a puddle with one kiss.
“Some idiot pulled the fire alarm last night, and the studio flooded. We’re trying to rebook, but I think the code is going to your phone because you booked it in the first place,” he explains.
“Oh crap, how bad is the damage?” I pull my phone out of my pocket and find the message with the code.
“One of the maintenance guys said they have to replace the entire floor,” Arya replies.
“How long will that take?” I input the booking reference code and frown. “All the studios on campus are coming up red.”
“How is that possible?” Charles groans. “We just got the email a few minutes ago.”
“I can check the yoga studio in my apartment complex.” I pull up the booking link. Unfortunately, I’m not the only person with this idea. I secure us an evening spot today and book where I can for the rest of the week, but now we’re short on practice sessions.
“We’ll have to find somewhere off campus.” Arya fiddles with the end of her braid. “I hope it’s not too expensive.”
Arya is here on a full scholarship and had to take out loans to afford room and board. Charles is in a similar position.
If I’d been on time, they would have had the code, and maybe we wouldn’t be scrambling. But I have connections. The Terror office has a gym and a yoga studio. It’s not convenient, but it could be an option. “Let me see what I can do.”