Chapter 14
CHAPTER
FOURTEEN
Dawson
I’ve created one hell of a shitshow for myself.
I find Louis and Jennings under a super-old cherry blossom, with a Chipotle bag between them and their bowls in their laps. They greet me as I sit down, taking the chips and salsa.
Jennings snorts. “Please help yourself. There’s some guacamole in there too.”
I tip a chip at him. “Let me know when you want to leave my brother. I’ll snatch you up.”
Louis glares as Jennings laughs loudly. “Oh, Dawson honey. Can’t have two tops.”
I whip my head to Louis. “You’re a bottom? I knew I should have let you win some of those wrestling matches when we were growing up.”
“Jesus Christ,” he mutters, but Jennings and I just laugh. “Anyway! What happened?”
I explain everything, and they listen intently.
I thought my idea was sound. I’d tell her some things about me in a fun way, get her to want to know more, and then invite her to my game.
I know she doesn’t follow football, but maybe she’d enjoy watching me.
I know my family would show her a good time and talk me up—if she stays away from my dad—and afterward, it’d be my turn.
I wanted to take her to get milkshakes since she mentioned liking them on an episode a few weeks back.
I wanted to tell her that it was me who has been messaging her and then ask her out once she had all the facts in front of her.
It was a solid plan, one I worked hard on, yet it made her cry.
The guilt that floods me reminds me of the time my dad let me use a game-day stick one summer.
I promised I’d be careful and I had every intention, but when Louis lifted my stick, stealing the puck to score on me for the ninth time in a row, I lost it.
I was so pissed my little brother was playing me like a puck, and I snapped.
Instead of breaking his neck like I wanted, I slammed the stick into the side of the goal, snapping it in two.
I got my ass handed to me, and I felt awful since it was the stick from my dad’s last NHL game.
But not even that moment can touch how shitty I feel now.
“I don’t know why it’d make her cry,” I say between stuffing chips into my mouth to ease the feeling in my gut. I don’t usually eat this, but man, the saltness of these chips…I can’t resist. “I’m so fucking confused.”
Louis gives me a bored look. “And you’re sure she likes you likes you?”
I nod. “Yes. I’m telling you, I know when a girl is feeling me, and while it’s different with her, she’s feeling me.”
“But don’t girls usually throw themselves at you? It seems this girl is running from you.”
I wave a chip at him. “Good thing I’m fast.”
Louis rolls his eyes. “Learn when to walk away.”
“I think my track record shows I don’t know how to do that,” I say with a grim smile, and Jennings snorts. “Also, you stick with guys, and leave girls to me.”
Louis rolls his eyes, and I look at Jennings to laugh, but he doesn’t. His eyes meet mine, his cool gray ones full of wonder. “What if she can’t read?”
“If she can’t, who cares? I don’t. But I’m telling you, she’s smart as a whip, and no way she can come up with what she does on her podcast on the fly. She is brilliant. Plus, she has been messaging me, so I know she can read.”
He shrugs. “What if she’s dyslexic?”
I pause eating and stare at him as Louis slowly nods. “I bet you’re right. Remember Brady Young last year? It took him like ten minutes a page to get through his paper.”
“And when he was super overwhelmed, he’d shut down.
Maybe the same happens to her,” Jennings suggests, and my face twists in confusion.
They ignore me, basically talking to each other.
“Yeah, and you said she’s a broadcasting major?
Professor Koshkin is the head of that department, and his son, Vincent, is a buddy of mine.
He’s dyslexic, and they’ve been working on a keyboard app for people with dyslexia.
Koshkin works hard with Bellevue to make sure that all students with dyslexia are able to turn in assignments in a way that makes them successful.
They’re doing really good things for the community.
He even has a club—” Jennings holds up his finger and reaches for his phone.
Then he nods, holding out the phone to me.
The screen is showing a professional photo of Ambrosia, her eyes shining in all their whiskey glory as she smiles demurely at the camera.
She has on a bright-red shirt that reads: Go Red for Dyslexia. Under her name, it reads President.
Fuck.
“I didn’t know,” I say quickly, and I’m met with pitiful glances.
Louis exhales. “I know that, but you drew attention to her disability. You can kiss your chance at her goodbye.”
Well, I don’t like that statement.
“No way. I didn’t know. She can’t fault me for that,” I demand, to which they both laugh.
“Bro, she’s a prideful one, that girl. She won’t take lightly to anyone making her look dumb, even if they didn’t know,” Louis says through his laughter.
“You’ll be lucky if she doesn’t kick you in the dick when she sees you,” Jennings snorts, and I remind myself to wear my cup when I attempt to talk to her.
“You two are fuckers,” I mutter, and they laugh, leaning into each other. I thought having a baby brother was a pain in the ass. I never expected for his partner to become one too.
I’m lost in my head when Louis leans over to pat my knee. “Just apologize.”
He’s right.
Long forgotten is the food in front of me as I think this over.
It doesn’t matter if she’s dyslexic. I can record myself telling her things about me.
I can send her voice chats, or we can get that app where it’s like a walkie-talkie if we can’t call each other.
There are plenty of ways to communicate, and I’ll do them all.
For her, I’d do anything.
No matter what my next move is, I need to apologize. I’ll just need to protect my junk while I’m at it. I press my lips together as a new plan comes to mind.
I snap my fingers. “I’ve got another plan.”
Louis rolls his eyes as Jennings grins in excitement. “Dude, what is going on? Why are you doing this? Because she didn’t fall tits over ass when you smiled at her? You’re weirding me out. I’m the lover, you’re the wanderer.”
Jennings shrugs. “He’s not wrong. I’ve known you for like ten years now, and never once have I seen you do more than snap your fingers at a girl.”
I swallow and shift as their knowing gazes make me a bit uncomfortable. They’re right. It’s like I went from total disinterest in the female population, except to get my release, to doing whatever I can to get this girl to notice me. It’s a 180 that is making my head spin, but it feels right.
“I want to,” I answer softly. “I like her.”
Louis gives me a sheepish little grin since I’ve never admitted something as emotional as this.
I’m a very surface-level kind of person.
I don’t let people in because I don’t want the distraction.
I’m not saying that I don’t tell my family I love them or shower them with affection, but I sure as hell don’t do it for anyone else.
Hell, it took four years for me to hug Jennings, and now, I’d give my left nut for a hug from Ambrosia.
Not only to comfort her for making her upset, but to feel her lush body in my arms.
To get lost in her scent.
To cuddle her closer.
Though, I will be protecting said nuts when I’m around her.
“Then good luck,” Louis says with a tip of his chin.
Jennings grins, looking over my shoulder. “Yeah. You’re gonna need it.”
I follow their gaze to find none other than Ambrosia Mercer stomping toward me with fire in her eyes and her mouth in a sneer.
Shit.
“Anyone got a junk cup?”
They both laugh, shaking their heads, before Jennings dumps his food into Louis’s and holds up the little brown bowl. “This may work.”
Louis shakes his head. “I don’t even think a cup would work with how pissed she looks.”
When I look back at where she’s stalking toward me, steam coming out of her ears, I can’t help but think how goddamn gorgeous she is.
Her hair whips behind her, her eyes darker than the whiskey hue they usually are, and the outfit she wears?
Jesus above. Tight leggings that show off the curves of her legs and a thin oversized tee with a deep V.
Her bright-yellow-painted toes shine through her dark Birkenstocks, and when did I start getting turned on by ankles?
I don’t know, but damn, she’s got some hot ankles.
What is wrong with me?
Since I want to be near her, I head toward her, and I watch as her gaze licks along every inch of me.
Fuck, the attraction is real between us.
It’s almost like a living thing, pulsing between us in a mind-blowing way.
How her breath hitches, and how she does a little stutter step that I find adorable.
She seems utterly befuddled, and yeah… Same, heart-stopper, same.
Ambrosia’s eyes widen when she knows I saw her trip a bit, but she still barrels toward me like a bull toward a red cape.
I take a deep breath, in awe of her as we come toe-to-toe with each other.
She’s basically growling at me. Her face is red, her eyes wild and dark, and the way she purses her little heart-shaped mouth steals my attention in mere seconds.
Fuck, I want to taste that mouth.
Even with her so mad that she’s shaking, I find her irresistible. Before she can cuss me out, kick me in the balls, or even smack me, I let instinct take over.
I reach out with both of my hands, taking her warm face in my palms, before dropping my mouth to hers.
Her sweet taste, like Bubble Yum gum, hits me in an instant, and I groan against her lush mouth.
I might die for this, but at least I’ll die with the taste of her on my lips.