Page 52 of Scoring the Player
“So sorry. I’m having fun, promise.”
“Nah, don’t be. Too many nights of staying up late. Let me walk you home.”
It’s about three blocks away, weaving through campus, and we could easily get a sober ride, but the night is still warm, and I’m not in any hurry to leave Felix’s company, so I agree.
Once we’re out of the party, our steps slow.
“Plans for tomorrow or can you sleep in?” he asks. Our fingers brush accidentally, and he shoves both hands in the front pockets of his jeans.
“I have practice, but not until ten. You?”
“Same, practice at noon. Then hopefully taking the most epic nap ever.” He smiles, removes his hands from his pockets and takes my hand. My pulse races at the simple touch. Except too late I realize he’s leading me across the street like a protective big brother. I hold on a little tighter, so he isn’t tempted to drop my hand as soon as we get to the other side. There’s no reason to hold hands where no one can see us, but I want to all the same.
My house is in sight before I’m ready to say goodbye. The living room light is on, and I know Jane left the party before us and is either in her room or mine waiting to hear how the night went.
He squeezes my hand and stops in front of my house. We’re here, but I’m not ready for the night to end.
“Do you want to stay over?” I ask, saying the words all at once before I lose my nerve.
“I should probably go home and let you get some sleep.”
Who needs sleep? I’ll sleep when I’m dead.
He steps forward and wraps his arms around me. I melt into him, letting my head rest on his chest and squeezing his sides.
“Thanks for walking me home.” I tilt my head up, still pressed into his chest. His blue eyes flash over my mouth, and for a second, I think he might kiss me again.
His lips brush softly against my forehead and then he steps away. “You’re welcome. Night, hot stuff.”
19
FELIX
Saturday after practice,some of the guys end up at our house. Brogan and Archer show up, then some freshmen, including Armstrong. I think he and Bethany are done. Teddy said she was at the party last night with some baseball guy. I never even saw her, which is a first. I usually have a radar that points me directly to her. It reads something like: Warning—Danger ahead! But last night the only person I remember is Dahlia.
That kiss was…well, fuck, it was hot. It might have been her first kiss, but in a weird way, it felt like mine too. Or at least the first real kiss in a long, long time. When’s the last time I kissed a girl without taking off her clothes? Sadly, I can’t remember.
I could havejustkissed her for hours. I seriously considered it, but continuing to kiss her complicates things in a way I’m not ready to act on. Being someone’s first kiss is one thing, but anything beyond that feels too heavy for our agreement.
By eight o’clock, my house is filled with teammates and some of their girlfriends. My sisters are over too. Most people are drinking, but it’s calm and casual.
I haven’t talked to Dahlia all day, which isn’t odd. We’ve gone a day or two between texting since we started hanging out, but as I look around my house at everyone laughing and having a good time, I keep wondering what she’s doing.
I finally give in and hit her up.
Me
What are you doing?
Hot Stuff
Jane and I just left Taco Bell.
I laugh at her exaggerated use of emojis.
Me
Tacos sound great. Now I’m hungry.
