Page 37 of Saving The Shortstop

“I don’t snore,” I say quickly, wanting to change the subject because even though I don’t think I snore, I’m beginning to wonder if I actually do and he’s not just trying to embarrass me.

“You do,” he tosses back, stretching his hands over his head before he brings one of them to my forehead. “Your fever broke.”

“Thank God for that,” I grumble.

As if he’s now satisfied that I’m fever free and totally fine, he slowly scoots off the bed, keeping himself turned away from me when he gets up. He wears the same sweatpants as last night, and I pretend not to know that he’s keeping his back to me, likely to hide the bulge that would be showing through. Grabbing his sweatshirt off the floor, he turns toward me, keeping it draped in front of him nonchalantly.

I could leave him alone about it. I really should leave him alone. But the longer he stands here, and I know he’s getting ready to leave, the deeper my smirk grows.

“What’s with the hoodie, QB?” I ask, my voice still gruff from being sick. I jerk my chin toward it. “You hiding something?”

Looking down quickly, his hardened gaze then sweeps back to mine. “Nope,” he grumbles.

I lift a brow playfully. “You sure about that, big guy?”

He looks half mad, half amused, and after a moment, he exhales and rolls his eyes. “I have to get a workout in before class. Make sure you take your medicine every four hours today, and try to eat something.” He backs away, sweatshirt still hanging over his crotch. “I’ll be back to check on you later.”

I continue grinning at him like a fool before eventually, I hold out a thumbs up.

“You got it, boss,” I sass. “Thanks for the sleepover.”

Now I’m just trying to make him uncomfortable. It works too, because he almost trips.

“It wasn’t a sleepover, Short,” he says sharply. “Not that kind, anyway.”

I yawn, knowing that, aside from showering today, I’m not going to be up for doing shit. Holding my hand up, I wave goodbye.

“See you later,” I attempt to singsong. And then, he’s gone.

And even though I want to lie here in this bed, daydreaming about the fact that Dallas Rivers stayed with me in my bed last night, I don’t. I don’t because he doesn’t look at me the way I want him to. So instead, I get my ass up and head to the shower.

Because if he really does come back, you’re damn right I’m going to be clean.

You know … just in case.

DALLAS

I rush out of The Nest and to The Tower before anyone has a chance to see me. I keep my sweatshirt hung in front of my crotch, trying to hide the fact that my dick will not fucking go down. The second I woke up this morning and felt it pressing against Haven’s ass, I panicked. I thought I got out of there without her knowing too. But then she teased me before I made it out, and now I’m convinced she knew I had a fucking hard-on.

I wake up with one nine times out of ten, but that’s like … a half chub. This was full on, ready to go, hard as steel and pressed right against my childhood friend’s ass.

Not a good look.

I rush into the bathroom, thankful as fuck that no one is out to ask me where I’ve been. I know I’m going to go get sweaty working out, but I don’t give a fuck. I need to take a shower so that I can go about my day without my dick standing up straight.

Closing the door behind me, I turn on the shower and strip. Last night, I stayed in a bed with Haven King—my best friend’s sister. I don’t know why I couldn’t bring myself to leave; all I know is, I couldn’t. And there was something about caring for her that gave me a weird high. I can’t explain it, and I’m sure if I tried to, I’d sound like a psychopath.

Either way, before I go about my day … I need to make my cock go down. And the only way to do that is to fuck my hand while thinking about Haven and her goddamn popsicle.

Stepping into the shower, I wrap my hand around my dick and squeeze my eyes shut.

Yep … that’ll do it.

SIXTEEN

DALLAS

I pull in front of The Tower and open my door. Right away, I make the choice not to go inside before checking on Haven because there are too many guys home, and I don’t feel like answering everyone’s questions about where I’ve been.