Page 21 of Saving The Shortstop

It takes a moment, but finally, his lips curve up the slightest bit into a small smile. Something I’ve come to realize about Dallas is that he hardly ever smiles any bigger than this right here. For as long as I’ve known him, that’s been the case. But I guess when you’ve been through as much pain as he had before Memphis and Lane adopted him, anyone would have a hard time smiling.

Shoving some things into my extremely large and over-the-top Bogg bag, I grin. “I think you earned yourself a treat, QB.”

Shock crosses his face, and I roll my eyes. “Don’t look at me like that. I’m not trying to hit on you.” Standing up, I jerk my chin toward the door. “Come on. Ben’s Ice Cream Shack is still open for another few days. Let’s go.”

“You realize your dad may actually kill me if he finds out I ate ice cream before practice, right?” he says, unmoving from his chair.

“Well then,” I say with a shrug, “suit yourself. I’ll go alone. Maybe I’ll even get Moose Tracks.” I add the last part in, knowing the vanilla ice cream with fudge swirls and tiny peanut butter cups is his favorite. And as I’m walking toward the exit, I don’t even make it halfway across the room before he’s beside me.

“I guess what he doesn’t know … can’t hurt him?” he says, almost smirking.

“My thoughts exactly.” I nod. “Oh, but you’re driving. I walked here.”

“That’s fine,” he says softly. “By the way, nice job baiting me to come by mentioning my favorite ice cream, but are you forgetting that I know you hate peanut butter?” He chuckles. “We both know you’re going to get cookie dough.”

I try to ignore the way my heart flutters when he mentions that I hate peanut butter and that he knows my favorite flavor ice cream. Why wouldn’t he? He probably knows my entire family’s order, the way I do his. But still, it just feels … different.

Even through the flutters, right now, being playful with him and spending time together almost feels like it did back years ago before he went and screwed everything up by kissing me. Before that kiss, I had gotten really good at shoving my feelings for him down. After that, it was torture.

But today gives me hope. Hope that maybe—just maybe—we could be friends again one day.

TEN

DALLAS

As we walk along the river after getting our ice cream, the last thing I’m trying to do is watch Haven as she licks her cone, but it’s really fucking hard to keep my eyes straight and stay focused.

I’m the starting quarterback for a Division 1 school. For my entire football career, the one thing I’ve had going for me is my ability to keep my composure and, when needed, staying stone cold even when faced with pressure. Yet, a girl who is supposed to be a childhood friend and who’s now my tutor is licking her ice cream beside me and I’m losing my mind.

“Mhmm,” she practically moans, and I swear to God I almost fall over myself. I’m coordinated. I’m athletic. Yet if you were a bystander watching me right now, you’d sure as shit never know that.

I shouldn’t be fantasizing about replacing that ice cream she’s licking with my dick for multiple reasons. One, she’s whole. And normal. She doesn’t have any skeletons in her closet or a dark past that haunts her in the night. Two, our families are best friends. If we ever found ourselves tangled up in something more than just childhood friends who like to bicker and it ended badly, things would be awkward for our parents, and I’d never want that. And three, her brother is my best friend. Noah has been there for me in times when I wouldn’t let anyone else in. He knows more than anyone else about my past, and still, he’s never once turned his back on me, even in the first year or so when my parents adopted me and I acted like shit. I can’t betray him by going after his sister.

“Are you enjoying your treat so much that you can’t speak, or are you deep in thought over there?” Haven teases, nudging me. “You’ve barely said five words since we’ve been on this walk.”

I look over at her, my feet slowing a bit. One look in her eyes and I think about how much I’ve missed doing shit like this. How much fun the three of us used to have. Me, her, and Noah. Then I went and fucked it all up by kissing her and losing my mind. I don’t think I’ve come back from that kiss since.

Looking away, I return to my pace walking. Not as fast as I normally would though, because her legs are a helluva lot shorter than mine.

“Nah,” I utter, finishing my ice cream. “Just thinking about the game Friday, that’s all.”

I can feel her eying me over for a few seconds.

“You’re so much like Harley,” she finally says. “Both of you are so intense. Like nothing else matters besides softball and football.”

That makes me stop right in my tracks, and I stare at her, narrowing my eyes.

“Short, you’re ranked the number three shortstop in all of college softball right now. There’s no way you don’t think that way too. I’ve watched you play. I’ve seen you lose—and you’re a terrible loser, by the way.”

“I’ll give you that,” she says, licking her cone again. “But I also know it’s just a game. So while I may be pissy after a loss, picking apart what I could have done better leading up to it, I don’t stress. I used to, but it only makes me play worse, and then I have way more errors.”

I don’t argue because she does know how to balance fun and work, I’ll give her that. Haven may train hard and be incredibly talented, but she has a good time too. When my dumbass roommates have parties, she’s always there, shaking her ass and pouring shots down her throat. I fucking hate it, because it means I can’t disappear into my room to get away from it. Instead, I feel the need to watch as she shamelessly flirts with every dude in the room right under my nose. Harley isn’t like that. Occasionally, she’ll get dragged to a party, but it’s more than clear the entire time she’s there that she hates it.

There are innocent girls like Harley Meadows, and then there are good girls with a bit of a wild side like Haven King. And while I love her wild side, it also stresses me the fuck out.

A lone lash sits just under her eye, and before I can stop myself, I reach for it, plucking it away and holding it out in front of her. She seems stunned, her eyes flying from mine to my hand.

“Make a wish,” I say softly, pretending like it’s no big deal.