16. Chapter 16
Chapter 16
Dallas
I wait for Abby to say something, anything, but she doesn’t. She stares straight ahead, still as a statue. I move to her side and see her eyes welling up in tears.
“Woah, what’s wrong?” I ask, moving in front of her now. I cup her cheeks in my hands and wipe the single tear that falls from the movement.
She shakes her head and starts to smile. “Nothing. Absolutely nothing is wrong, Dallas.”
“Happy tears?” I ask, concern still lacing my features.
She nods frantically and pulls me into a hug. “Thank you,” she mumbles into my shirt.
I chuckle, clutching her tight. “You haven’t even gone over there yet.”
“Doesn’t matter. It’s already perfect.” She holds me for a few moments longer but then decides she does want to wander closer to the setup under the tree. She pulls away. “Okay, maybe I am curious what’s over there.”
I leave her to scope out the place herself. Being almost eleven at night, it’s already dark, but the area is lit up by a string of lights above a yellow and black plaid blanket laid out on the ground. On the blanket sits a tray with two wine glasses and the bottle of wine Logan so graciously picked out. A red; he’d said it was more romantic and based on Abby’s other tastes in alcohol, that was his best guess.
It’s not much, but it’s more effort than I’ve ever put into a date in my entire life.
“What’s this?” she asks, picking up a thin box with a bow on top.
“Open it,” I say with a smile.
She cocks her head. “Another present?”
“A congratulations gift.” I roll my cuffs to my elbows and approach her, stuffing my hands in my pockets while she undoes the bow.
“But I didn’t win first place.” She doesn’t look up as she drops the ribbon onto the blanket.
“So? You still got nominated. That counts for something. And then you came in second place? That’s huge, Abby. Be proud of yourself. I know I am.”
The corner of her mouth ticks up when she looks at me. Her eyes are soft. I nod toward the gift again, waiting for her to open it.
She lifts the top and pulls out a notebook. I see the moment realization dawns on her. “A Castelli? A copper Castelli?” Her eyes are wide as her grin spreads. She drops the box, not caring about it anymore, and flips through the copper-edged pages of the notebook. “God, this is gorgeous.” She runs her fingers over the floral detailing on the front.
I’ll never understand how a bundle of bound paper can make her so excited, but it doesn’t matter. She’s happy, I’m happy.
“How did you know?” she asks, still paging through the notebook. “Wait, don’t tell me. I bet it was Meredith again, wasn’t it?”
I smile and nod before approaching her from behind and wrapping my arms around her waist.
“Well, thank you. You really didn’t have to get me anything.”
That makes me laugh. “Have you seen the condition of your current notebook? The thing is hanging on for dear life, practically begging to be put out of its misery.”
She laughs this time. “Hey now, that notebook has been good to me.”
“Well, let me be good to you, now.” I nuzzle my nose into her neck. She giggles before laying her new notebook on the blanket and turning to kiss me.
“What do you have in mind?” She asks after pulling away.
“Mmm. I could think of a few things,” I say, voice low. I run my hands down her arms and twirl her around, the dress fluffing out with the motion. I pull her back toward me and press my body to hers.
A mischievous smile plays on her lips before she kisses me again. It’s delicate and drawn out. I let her lead, wanting to take this night slow. But just as we start getting into it, she gives me one more peck and pulls away.
“I want to try this wine before we make a mess of the place.” She sits down on one side of the tray and picks up the bottle to examine it.
I stand there, my arms and lips empty, and take a deep breath. A mess of the place. The implication already gives my dick a heartbeat. “You are such a tease.”
She looks up at me from the ground with a sly grin. “I know.” I shake my head and take my place on the other side of the tray, handing her the corkscrew. “Did you pick this out?” she asks, still reading the label.
“No, Logan did.”
“ Logan? There’s no way.”
“His mom is a bit of a wine connoisseur, so he had no choice but to learn a few things.”
She lets out a sound like she’s impressed yet heavily amused. “Well, I’ve never had this one, but I think I’ll like it.” She inserts the corkscrew and starts twisting. It pops out relatively easily, and she pours herself a glass. “Do you want some? What are you going to drink? I don’t want to be the only one sipping on something.”
“I got myself some sparkling juice. Kid wine. The next best thing.” I unscrew the cap, pour myself a glass of the juice, and take a sip.
She smells hers, then sips it, and I watch that liquid pass her lips, her dark red lipstick almost the same color as the wine. My eyes trail the line of her mouth, then down the soft skin of her throat as she swallows. I force myself to take a sip to refocus.
“This is good. I wasn’t sure if it would be too dry, but I like the hint of spice behind the sweetness. How’s yours?”
I hadn’t even noticed how mine tasted when I took a sip, my mind so far away from the glass in my hand. “Not bad.”
She looks out over the pond, listening to all the sounds of the wildlife still wide awake. I follow her gaze to the tree line, the silhouette of them soothing. Above us, the stars seem to speak another language entirely before winking back. The moon sets the water ablaze in white fire, reflecting every star.
Abby breaks through the silence. “Do you ever think about how one small decision could have changed the whole course of events in your life?”
That’s a loaded question. I let out a long breath, sending it far across the pond. “Yeah, sometimes.”
She keeps her eyes forward, sipping her wine slowly. “Me, too.”
Curiosity gets the best of me. “In what way?”
She’s thinking. I can tell by the way she chews on the inside of her cheek and lip. She adjusts her position and the fabric of the dress, letting it rest to the side, a full view of her legs on display. The serpent tattoo on her thigh peaks out just past the dress. She kicks off her heeled boots. “I wonder, sometimes, if I hadn’t switched which class I was in two years ago if I still would have met Sam.”
Ah. That’s where she’s going with this. I hadn’t exactly prepared myself to be talking about Sam tonight, but if that’s what’s on her mind, if that’s what she needs to get off her chest, I won’t stop her. The problem is, I’m not sure what to say. I don’t know if she’s looking for an answer or just needs to vent. So, I remain quiet and steal glances at her while she sips her wine and thinks.
“It’s kind of a weird thing to think about, don’t you think?” She turns her head to me now.
I raise the shoulder I'm not leaning on. “I suppose.” I pause, a little unsure of where to go from here.
She returns her eyes to the water and takes a long swig, finishing her glass. Abby continues before I do. “Like what would have happened if you weren’t at that party? Or if …” she starts but stops whatever thought she had. She sighs. Her face falls into a frown.
“If what?”
She shakes her head. “Don’t make me finish that thought.” Her tone is serious, but her voice almost cracks with the words.
My brows tighten. What was so bad that she couldn’t even say it out loud?
“Sometimes, I think it’s just this one piece of me that’s broken. And I go to fix it only to discover just how many other pieces of me are broken, too. And then I keep hurting myself trying to put them back together.”
I set my glass down on the tray and scoot closer. I lean forward on both arms. “Then let me help you.” I take her hands, placing them palm up in mine after setting her glass down as well. She looks at our hands laid out like this. “Sometimes it’s impossible to hold all the pieces by yourself. And sometimes someone else has the missing piece.” I intertwine our fingers now, hoping she’s getting the hint. “Think of it like this, like your writing. You write the first draft, and then you have to edit it to create the final version. That’s what this is. We’re rewriting your story, our story.”
She cocks her head as a sweet smile slowly returns. Her eyes are warm. Her hands are on my cheeks now, and she pulls me close. Her lips press to mine in a gesture that makes both of us melt against the other. The kiss is long and slow as I run a hand down her open back and I feel her shiver with my touch. Her hands rest against my chest, tracing the edge of the vest until she stops at my shoulders.
I don’t need more than her, more than this. To me, she’s the sun kissing the horizon in the evening. She’s the moon as it grows brighter with every passing minute. She’s the cool breeze caressing my skin with every touch.
Slowly, she pushes me down until my back meets the blanket, our kiss never breaking. She straddles my hips with hers, my hands moving to her waist, searching for those two slits in the fabric at her thighs. When I find them, I cup her ass and squeeze. She lets out a low, almost soundless moan into the kiss and drives it harder, dipping her tongue past my lips.
My hands rove her legs and thighs like it's the first time I've touched her. Her skin is as soft as velvet. Whatever perfume she wears is floral. It's light and airy and makes me breath deep to savor her scent.
The buttons on my vest pop open easily and she moves on to the buttons on my shirt until my chest is bare to the warm, summer night air. She sits up, still braced on my hips, and undoes my belt. She’s eager tonight. More frantic than slow. It’s not a secret that I’m ready, too, as she kneels and strips me of my clothes.
I reach around for the zipper of her dress and pull it down. The thin straps at her shoulders fall with the now loose fabric that gathers at her hips. She stands, steps out of the dress and her underwear, and sits back down on top of me, now skin on skin, and I swallow past the breath hitching in my throat. The sight of her above me like this is enough to make me forget how to breathe.
She trails her hands along my arms until she reaches my hands, lacing her fingers with mine. She pins them on either side of my head while she peers down at me. She bites her lip. The way she’s looking at me … there’s something feral about the way she surveys me. She lets go of one hand, and her finger traces the geometric patterns of my tattoos. She places kisses on each cheek and then trails the line of my jaw before returning to my lips.
Her hips move in slow rhythmic circles over my dick that sits between her legs in just the right spot for both of us, and I force myself to focus on the kiss, the way her lips move with mine so effortlessly, or I’m going to come faster than I want to.
She rocks her hips over the length of me in such a way I may lose myself simply from the way her body moves over mine, the way her eyes roll as her arousal grows, the way her skin feels everywhere it touches me. When she releases her grip from my hands, she braces herself with my thighs, head falling back, nipples so hard they point to the sky. She moans a low, guttural sound so deep it vibrates down to my dick that throbs beneath her.
She’s gorgeous, the moon hitting her curves. It hits her black hair so perfectly that it almost looks silver in the moonlight. She’s a fucking goddess if I’ve ever seen one.
I cup her breasts in both hands, watching her writhe until her legs tighten at my hips, her knees pinning me in place.
“Fuck, Dallas.” She reaches her climax and squeezes my thighs hard. She stops breathing for a moment while she rides it out, and when she comes down from it, she kisses me gently while placing my tip at her entrance, the glistening skin ready to be buried inside her.
She lowers herself slowly with a high-pitched squeak of pleasure, and it mixes with my own grunt as the sudden wet skin surrounds me. Her mouth falls open when she rests fully onto me, beginning the slow up-and-down movement. Her breasts bounce above me as she brings her forehead to mine, eyes closed.
I cover her lips with mine, begging her to let me in for more. It doesn’t take any convincing when she flicks her tongue over my top lip and then finds my tongue to fight with hers.
I bite her lower lip, and she bucks on top of me at the sudden pleasurable pain. It only makes me want more. Before I know it, I’m just about to go over the edge. Abby, too, by the way she’s barely breathing again. She fists the blanket beneath us as I spill into her, losing any remaining resolve, and she collapses on top of me as we both come down from such satisfying climaxes.
With the crickets and frogs chirping, it’s far from silent. But my mind, my body, they are the quietest they’ve been in weeks. If only this bliss could last forever. I’ll make this moment last as long as I can, as long as she wants it to. If I need to stop time, I’ll find a way.
Abby takes a final deep breath before shifting her weight to lie next to me. She props herself up on an elbow and reaches for the wine bottle, taking a swig straight from it. I raise a brow but we both laugh.
I let my eyes wander her naked form as I ask, “I have one more question that I didn’t ask you the other night.” She cocks a brow at my mischievous smile. “The night we actually played Truth or Drink, I’d asked a question, and you took a heavy drink instead of answering. So, now I’m curious what your actual answer is.”
“Oh, God. Which one?” She scrunches her nose.
“Name a sexual desire you’ve never entertained.”
She blushes again, her cheeks so red they glow. “Can I drink out of this?”
I laugh but eye her curiously. She knows her answer. I can tell. "Up to you."
“You’re going to laugh,” she says.
I hold out my pinky. “I won't. Promise.”
She hesitates before taking my pinky in hers and squeezing. She stifles a nervous laugh and averts her gaze to the sky so she doesn’t have to look at me when she admits to her thoughts. Her face scrunches tightly together when she says, “This,” with her arms splayed out wide, still gripping the neck of the wine bottle in one hand.
I narrow my eyes as I try to understand. “What, sex in a park? Kinky.”
She shoves my arm. “Just outside, under the stars. All of this. You nailed it.” She tips her head toward me and smirks. “Literally.” And then she laughs at her own joke.
I hold back a chuckle and smile, hoping she doesn’t think I’m trying not to laugh at her admission. “I think that’s cute.” I lean down to kiss her cheek. “And hot.” She rolls her eyes and pokes me in the stomach, making me grunt with a final laugh.
We dress after lying in silence for a while longer, listening to nature and watching the stars flicker above us. When the breeze picks up over the pond, the blanket almost blows away, but it gets caught on a dead branch a few yards to the right. We take it as our cue to head back home.
It’s the bottom of the ninth inning, we’re up to bat, and we’re losing. Down by two. If we don’t win this, we’re done with the tournament. That’s it. No more. Unless a scout decides I still have the skill set they’re looking for, this could end my baseball career.
I think, subconsciously I’ve made my decision between baseball and the hospital. I’m not sure I’d be so antsy about this game if I didn’t think I might have a chance, if I didn’t think I could make baseball my career. It’s not looking so hot right now, though. The team we’re playing is good, and it’s showing.
Thankfully, Dante was able to return to the field for this game. I’m not sure we would have had much of a shot if he wasn’t back in. Kevin’s good, but Dante has an extra boost to his pitches that tends to scare whoever’s at bat.
I’m not up this inning. It’s probably a good thing. I’d only make the game end faster. It’s been a rough game for me. My mind has been elsewhere all day, both good and bad. Abby sits in the bleachers near the top, watching closely. From what I’ve gathered, she’s been just as worried as the rest of our team based on her facial expressions every time I look up there.
Last night was single-handedly the best night of my life. I can’t stop thinking about how she looked in that dress, and I’m struggling to keep my self-control in check. Maybe that’s why I’ve been so all over the place with my catching and hitting. Nothing’s sticking correctly. It’s just making me frustrated, which makes me struggle even more. Undoubtedly, the scouts here have caught on and are taking strict notes.
“Dallas! We need a pinch runner. You’re in for Connor,” Coach yells back to me, pulling me away from my racing thoughts. He gives me a look that screams “Get your ass moving.” He’s on edge, too. Everyone is.
I grab my helmet and head to first base, realizing Connor got hit in the knee by a rogue fastball. A string of curse words is the only thing leaving his mouth as he limps back to the dugout, arms slung around the medical team's shoulders.
Once I reach first, the ump signals to keep playing. We’re sitting at one out and one on base. A slew of foul balls keeps me in place for far longer than my nervous legs want to stay put. Most of them are obvious fouls, but one has me halfway to second before I make the trek back to first to reset my position.
He strikes out on the last pitch, still leaving me stranded on first. Dante’s designated hitter, Leo, is up next. He has the best batting average on the team. Hopefully we can get some movement on these bases. First pitch is a ball. The second one he swings at is a curveball, missing by a hair. On the third pitch, he makes contact, and the crack of the bat rings out. We both take off toward our respective bases and halt, me on second, Leo on first.
Next is Jake, our shortstop. He’s one of only two lefties on our team, which gives him an advantage in more ways than one. He smacks the ball into the middle of left field. Normally, I wouldn’t run, but with Leo on first, I don’t have a choice. I know how this will end.
I take off running as fast as my feet will carry me, dust flying behind me in a flurry. I attempt to slide into third when the ball is thrown just over the third baseman’s reach. He jumps for it when my hand hits the base. I hold my position on my stomach, waiting to hear the outcome of my hopefully successful slide. When the umpire gestures the play safe, I only let myself celebrate for a few seconds before focusing back on the game.
We might have a chance of winning if we can keep this momentum going.
Our next hitter steps up to home plate. The first two pitches end in strikes. He hits the third pitch. It bounces before the pitcher catches it and I’m only a third of the way to home plate when their catcher steps on home plate. I jog the rest of the way and let him tag me as I reach him. He lifts the visor of his helmet and extends his right hand to me. A show of honorable defeat. I offer a smile and shake his hand.
We lost.
The opposing team runs to the field and pounces on the catcher for making the final play of the game. They cheer and hug and jump up and down as they celebrate their win. Our team moves back to the dugout to lick our wounds.
I look at where two scouts are sitting and catch them leaving the bleachers, stuffing their notepads into their pockets. That’s likely the end of my baseball career and Logan’s. At the moment, I feel a bit somber from the realization. The seniors on the team gather their things for the final time and we all make our way back to the locker rooms.
Coach Charlie stops everyone before they start to clean up. “Can I get everyone’s attention, please?”
We all gather around where he stands and wait for him to continue, every one of us looking as defeated as we feel.
“I just want to thank you all for another amazing season. This has been one of my favorite years of coaching, and that’s all due to your dedication and …” he pauses, searching for the right word, “eclectic personalities.” He smirks at his own joke, and that gets a few laughs from everyone. “To our seniors, I’m proud of how far you’ve come this year and wish you all the best in your future endeavors.” Everyone claps for his little speech.
I step forward, deciding that, since I’m the captain of the team, I should say a few closing words as well. “I would like to thank everyone as well. You’ve made my senior year a blast and I wouldn’t be where I am today without a lot of you guys kicking me in the ass when I needed it.” I jokingly glare at Logan, who chuckles at my stare. “And, Coach, thank you for being the best coach I’ve ever had. And not giving up on me last year through everything.”
I give him a large hug and he says in my ear. “I’m going to miss you, fucker. You get into a bad spot again, don’t hesitate to call.” I laugh into the hug before pulling away. He looks at the group again. “All right. That’s enough sappy talk for the day. Go shower. You all stink.”
The shower feels good, and I let the cool water run down my body, taking in the idea that this’ll be the last time I step foot in this locker room. And when I’m done, I empty my locker, hoist my bag over my shoulder, Logan following behind me, and step out of the building for the last time.