Page 59 of Saving The Shortstop

“Yeah,” I practically pant before I pull her up onto her feet. “Because it ended with me coming in your mouth and not my hand.”

Grabbing the hem of the jersey, I pull it over her head, tossing it out of the shower before I do the same to her bra.

“Now, turn around. I’m going to wash your hair,” I murmur, pressing a kiss to her lips before she spins.

Her ass grazing my dick is going to make it really fucking hard to concentrate, but I need to wash her hair. I need to make this night good for her because after this … I plan to fuck her for the very first time. It has to be good. We’ve both waited too damn long for it not to be.

TWENTY-FIVE

HAVEN

It’s past ten o’clock at night by the time we’re drying off after our shower together. Normally, I would have been asleep hours ago, but with neither of us having practice or class tomorrow, I don’t see a point in going to bed early. Besides, Dallas said the night was still young, and I have a feeling sleep isn’t really in the cards for us.

And that would be fine with me.

My hair smells like whatever shampoo and conditioner he used on it, and I can’t wipe the stupid smile off my face because the man literally washed. My. Hair. I mean, who does that? It was by far the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me.

“Do you have an extra shirt?” I ask, holding the towel snugly around myself. “You sort of soaked mine by making me wear it in the shower.”

He looks unbelievably delicious with his towel draped low on his hips, his hair still wet from the shower. I swallow back an embarrassing gulp after openly checking him out.

Turning toward me, his eyes twinkle. “I do,” he drawls, taking a few steps in my direction and closing the gap. “But you won’t need one. Not tonight, anyway.”

A shiver runs down my spine as he reaches for my towel, resting his hands on my waist.

“Fuck, Short,” he utters, running his hands up and down my sides. “You are so fucking beautiful this way. Fresh from the shower with no makeup on and your hair not done.”

My chest warms, though there’s a voice inside telling me he’s just being nice and doesn’t mean it.

I’m the girl who doesn’t usually leave my house without at the very least some mascara and lip gloss. I appear confident to everyone—and I am, in some ways. Like on a softball field. But when it comes to my appearance, I’ve never seen myself as one of those naturally pretty girls. The ones who can just wake up looking beautiful.

I look up at him, feeling his erection growing through his towel and nudging against my body. “Why did it take you so long to say something?” I blurt it out, though my voice is only a whisper. “I wish you’d told me sooner. It would have saved me so much heartache.”

I’m not lying to him. For years, it’s tortured me to have him so close while also not close enough. Close enough to have to watch him day in and day out, but distant enough that he wasn’t mine to hold.

Emotion cascades over his face, and for a split second, his eyes dart down away from mine before he lifts them.

“Since I’ve known you, I’ve known damn well you are too good for me.” He says the words like they are the honest to God truth, even though I know they aren’t. “You are so … whole. And real. You know what you want. You come from a good family—people who have taught you to be good. People who have loved you since before you were born. Taught you how to give and receive love.” He almost flinches. “I’m lucky that Lane and Memphis found me. Trust me, Haven, I know I am. But before that—” He stops, hanging his head and dropping his hands from my waist. “I don’t talk about my past because I’m afraid that if I do, I’ll be taken back to that part of my life. The part that I’ve tried so fucking hard never to return to.”

My heart hurts, seeing him this way. I can remember for the first three or so years of him living with Lane and Memphis, I’d overhear Memphis whispering to my mom that he had a lot of nightmares. Ones that were so bad that he didn’t just wake himself up with the screams, he woken his entire household. I don’t know everything he’s been through, but I know that it’s more than anyone should ever have to—especially a kid.

Reaching upward, I cup his cheek.

“You can tell me anything—always,” I whisper. “And I’m not too good for you, D.”

He squeezes his eyes closed upon my touch before his sad gaze stares into mine.

“I think about things like genetics and how your parents gave you the best ones. You’re caring like your mom, intense like your dad. Funny like both your parents and so many other things. Things you got from them because you are a product of them. And I see that. So many times, I see pieces of you that I know you got from your parents. Good things.” He shrugs, growing quiet for a moment. “What does that say about me though? That I’m a product of a woman who stayed in an abusive relationship, neglected her child, was addicted to prescription drugs, and could hardly get out of bed.” He swallows, looking away from me again. “Or worse, the product of an absolute asshole who would abuse his wife and kid, break things, and then take off for days at a time?”

“Dallas,” I whisper, keeping my hold on his cheek. “You are not your parents.”

“You don’t know that, Short,” he murmurs. “And that’s what scares the shit out of me. I can deal with me ruining my own life, but I would never let myself ruin yours too.” Finally, he looks me in the eyes. “So for years, I kept you at an arm’s length to protect you.”

“From who?” I whisper.

“From me,” he says sadly. “From the guy I’m afraid I’ll one day become.” His hand reaches for my waist again, and he grips my skin through the towel. “And I was doing okay with it. It sucked every single time you’d bring a new guy to a family event. I don’t know what was worse, watching you fall for someone or seeing you cry when he hurt you. Either way, it was my own living hell.” His fingers dig deeper into my flesh. “But then I needed help with school. And you needed someone to protect you from Tabor. We were pushed together in a way I have always been able to avoid.” He drops his forehead to mine. “But I couldn’t avoid it anymore—it was inevitable.”

He sighs, swallowing.