Page 10 of Saving The Shortstop

Her head rears back. “You have no right to ask me that. We’re just having fun.”

Fun. That’s what she thinks is fun. Hooking up with a guy who has a creepy look on his face while he smells her fucking hair when they hug and sends her angry texts when she’s with her family. If she thinks that shit is fun, maybe I don’t know her as well as I thought I did.

“I watched him after practice the other day when he followed you out by the parking lot. He watched you drive away, Haven. And even after, when he came into the locker room, he was throwing shit around, slamming his locker.” My eyes cut to hers, narrowing. “He’s fucked up in the head, and you need to get away from him.”

Though she tries to let my words roll off her, I can see in her eyes that I’ve ignited something inside her. A concern, or fear.

When I first came to NEU and found out that they were hooking up, I hated it, and I didn’t even know Tabor then. I just hated the thought of his hands on her body. Or worse, his stupid, undeserving fucking mouth. Now, I’m just worried about her.

She closes her eyes, inhaling a few times before she opens them up and swallows. “Can you please just take me home, Dallas?” She speaks with a type of desperation I’ve rarely—if ever—heard in her voice. “I’m tired. It was a long day of softball, and I have practice first thing in the morning.”

When Haven gets this way, overtired and checking out, there’s no sense in trying to get through to her. I’d have better luck chatting with my steering wheel right now. So reluctantly, hoping everything we just talked, or argued, about is enough, I shift the truck into drive and pull out onto the main road.

Haven King has always been the most stubborn person I know. And sometimes, it drives me absolutely crazy.

FIVE

HAVEN

After dodging Tabor’s texts and phone calls for three days, I finally decide it’s time to put my big-girl pants on and meet up to tell him that whatever we were doing is over. It’s only fair to him, and despite him being a little weird the other night, seeming jealous, I do feel bad that he may have caught feelings. After all, I know what it’s like to feel something for someone who clearly doesn’t feel the same in return.

A coffee shop seemed like an appropriate place because even though a big part of me feels like Dallas is full of shit and trying to push me away from his teammate for reasons I don’t understand, I also am concerned that there’s some truth to it, and maybe Tabor really is a jealous psychopath.

He can’t kill me in a coffee shop …

Oh, and Gigi and Harley are sitting in the corner booth in the back of the café.

I keep my hands wrapped around my cup, letting the warmth seep through to my fingers. The temperature dropped today with the rain, and it’s straight up dreary out. I glance at the clock, knowing Tabor should be here any minute.

As if on cue, the door opens, making the bell ring, and in walks Tabor wearing sweatpants and an NEU football hoodie. His hair is a little wet coming from outside, making it stick to his forehead. When he sees me, he smiles and walks my way.

I debated ordering him something, but if he’s already clingy, won’t that make it worse? He’ll think I care more than I do. So I decided getting something for myself only was the safest bet.

He doesn’t order or look at the menu. Instead, he comes right to the table, sitting down across from me.

“I’m so glad you called, babe,” he whispers, and my stomach churns when he calls me that. The way he’s looking at me right now, his eyes full of unmistaken adoration, I know I let this thing between us go on for longer than I should have.

When he reaches across the table for my hands, I pull them back. His eyes flash with hurt, and his head rears back the slightest.

“What? You aren’t happy to see me?” he utters, his eyes suddenly darkening. “I thought you missed me too.”

I’m shaken from the realization that this relationship had to have meant a lot more to him than it ever did me, and I feel guilty, knowing his feelings are hurt.

“Tabor,” I say softly, biting down on my lip. “I’m so sorry. I thought—I thought we were just casual. And I think, maybe you misread the situation?”

He takes a deep, angry breath. I’ve seen the look in his eyes once before, but it was when he was defending me. At least, that’s how he explained it. I was at a party with some friends, and I saw him fighting. He told me there was a guy talking about me in a really degrading way, and he shut it down.

I thought he was my friend for doing that.

“Misread the situation?” His voice is eerie now, chilling me to my core. “You coming over every night, fucking me and then staying over. You think I misread that?”

I feel sick, not knowing what to say or do.

“We were hooking up. And back this summer, we even talked about how neither of us was looking for anything serious, but that we were both lonely.”

“That was before!” He slams his hand against the table, startling me and the other few people around us, though he doesn’t seem to care. At least, not for a moment until he closes his eyes and inhales. When his eyes open again, he seems relaxed.

“I know we said that, but then we started hanging out a lot more. We even went to dinner a few times. You’d come over, we’d hook up, and sometimes, you’d fall asleep in my bed.” He’s whispering now, his voice so much softer than before. “Haven, I’m … I’m falling for you. I know I said I’m not that guy. But look me in the eyes and tell me you didn’t feel the shift.”