SWINGING STRIKE: Cessna U Wildcats Book One

by Readnour, Kimberly

  Noah kneels down beside Shannon right as Dalton walks into the room. Dalton’s eyes widen when he notices my sister tickling the dog. He has yet to meet her, and by the way he eyes her, I need to make sure he knows to stay away. Noah’s good, of course, and Garret was warned freshman year. Not that he was interested in her, but I laid the ground rules down early. There’s an unspoken rule you don’t date teammate’s sisters, but I didn’t want any confusion.

  “Dalton, this is my sister, Shannon.” I give him a stern look that says hands off. “She’ll be staying here until we find her some housing.”

  “Excellent,” he says in a drawn-out voice that has my hands curling into fists.

  She looks up for the first time and stammers over her hello. “Oh, um, good to meet you.”

  Noah’s back straightens, and I know how he feels. I don’t like the exchange either. I need to shut this shit down right now. “In case you didn’t know, my sister is off-limits.”

  Dalton shoots me a wide-eyed look and throws his hands up in defense. “I wasn’t going to try anything.”

  “What the hell, Braxton? You don’t have the right to dictate who I can and can’t go out with. You’re in no position to comment about my dating life, Mr. Heartburglar.” She stands and glares at me. My less than desirable nickname slides from her mouth with as much venom as a western diamondback rattlesnake. Damn that Mel G. and her stupid article. Fuck. I’ve been so focused on myself, I forgot Shannon would’ve read the article, too.

  “You of all people know the story’s bogus.”

  “This rumor, sure, but what about all the other girls you’ve paraded in and out of your bedroom? You’re being hypocritical.”

  My nostrils flare despite the fact she’s right. I am being a hypocrite. The number may be small, but the girls I’ve had weren’t keepers. Certainly not something to be proud of. Maybe I should feel guilty for wanting to protect her, but I don’t. I’m pissed. In fact, I’ve been in a pissy-ass mood ever since going down to the fire.

  Tryce’s hands wrapped around Cara’s hips, the smug look on his face comes into play. What the hell is wrong with me? Tryce pawing Cara shouldn’t overshadow the elation of my sister being safe. Damn, I need my head examined. Regardless, this discussion with Shannon is over. I cross my arms and stare right back.

  “I’d say sorry, but I’m not. No teammate of mine will ask you out. Got it?”

  Her eyes narrow from the gruffness of my voice. Or maybe from my demanding tone. I’m not sure, but whichever it is, there’s no denying she’s angrier. “Just your teammates?”

  The tension in the room thickens from her challenge. I glance at Noah for some help, but he just stands there not giving me one ounce of support either way.

  “I can’t control the entire upperclassmen, but you need to be concentrating on your studies.”

  She glares at me—the whole spitting fire and wishing I was dead kind. Her grades have always been a touchy subject for her, and I just went there.

  “I’m not a little child. God, I’m not even a virgin.”

  My heart stops. The only thing jump-starting it is the need to comb every residence of San Francisco County for the fucker who touched my sister. I know it wasn’t her last boyfriend because he broke up with her for not sleeping with him. A pinkish tinge flames her cheeks as she realizes what we’re discussing in front of a roomful of jocks.

  Noah, who has been quiet this entire time, clenches and unclenches his fists. He looks every bit as pissed as I feel. Garret’s eyes widen, and he starts backing toward the kitchen. Hell, even Miller lets out a whine and follows Garret. I catch Dalton’s smirk, and it takes great restraint to keep from punching it off. He’s been here half a day, and I’m already unsure about him.

  “You feel better?” I ask. I’m not apologizing for looking after her welfare. Fuck that. She’s my little sister, and I vowed to protect her long before she could talk.

  “I’m not doing this. Just show me to my room. It’s been a long day, and I’m over it.”

  Miller huffs another low whine from the kitchen as she steps toward the stairs. We reach the landing at the top of the narrow staircase, and I turn to her. “The main bathroom is at the end of the hallway. My room is the last door on the right.”

  “I want clean sheets.” Her voice is clipped as she marches ahead of me. I hate embarrassing her, but I’m her brother. I have to look out for her. No one else but Noah will.

  “Fair enough.” I grab a set out of my closet and toss it on the bed. I should stay and help her, but I’m not in the best of moods myself. I snag the extra blanket and pillow off the bed. “I’ll sleep on the couch until we figure this out.”

  “Fine.” Tears prick her eyes. A pang of regret tightens my chest, but I don’t yield. I already failed her by not protecting her.

  “Holler if you need anything.” I leave when she nods.

  “Shannon settled?” Noah asks when I enter the living room.

  “Yeah.” I glance around the room. “Where’d the guys go?”

  “Garret’s on the phone outside, and Dalton’s in his room.”

  My eyes narrow when I glance up the stairs. “I don’t like the way he looks at Shannon. Try to keep an eye on him.”

  “No problem, but you may need to cut her some slack.”

  “You think they’d make a cute couple?”

  “No!” he says rather defensively. “But it wouldn’t hurt to back off. She’s not a little girl anymore.”

  My jaw ticks as her words come back to haunt me. Not a virgin. If I could wash those words from my memory bank, I would. Maybe bleach my brain. “Yeah, but if anyone is going out with her, it won’t be a teammate.”

  He looks impassive and nods. “I hear you. I’ll keep my eye on them.”

  “Thanks, bro. I knew you’d have my back.”

  “Always. I have a few things to catch up on. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Later.” I pull out my laptop, having a few assignments myself to get through.

  About the time Noah leaves, Garret comes back in from his call. I give him a suspicious eye but don’t say anything. Every evening, he goes outside for a phone call. No one knows who he talks to, but we assume it’s his phantom girlfriend. He has never mentioned a girl, and when we tease him about one, he gets jumpy. We eventually let it slide.

  “I’m glad your sister’s okay,” Garret says.

  “Thanks, man. Me too.” I let out a long exhale. “I don’t even want to think about what could’ve happened.”

  “She’s safe.” He heads toward the stairs but pauses. His stare lingers toward the top of the landing for a moment before returning to me. “You okay?”

  “I’m good.”

  He nods, seemingly relieved. Talking feelings and shit isn’t what guys do. “I’ll catch you tomorrow.”

  “Later.”

  Miller nuzzles up beside me and nudges his nose on my knee. “You want to go outside?” His answering woof brings a smile. I push off the couch and head to kitchen. Grabbing his namesake, I say, “Come on, boy.”

  As Miller takes off to do his business, I settle in one of the lawn chairs by the back door and pop the lid off the longneck. A blanket of blackness surrounds me as I stare across the backyard not focusing on anything in particular. Other than the frog’s melodic mating calls and the occasional bird cawing, the night is eerily quiet. Perhaps the shock from the campus fire has unsettled people’s nerves and kept them inside. I don’t know, but this is my first time being in The Meadow alone.

  Every athlete that’s played at Cessna U calls the grassy section behind jock housing The Meadow. It spans the entire row of homes and stretches about fifty yards to the edge of the woods. This makeshift field has seen many parties, many games, and plenty of action. It’s the best place to unwind. And tonight, I have it all to myself.

  I take a long pull of my drink as Miller sniffs along the wood’s edge completely oblivious to my somber mood. I need to snap out of this funk. It isn’t l
ike me to be this edgy over some chick. It’s just, I thought we had a connection at Barton’s. I take another drink, losing sight of the dog. He must have wandered off to mark his territory.

  Which seems oddly familiar.

  Is that what Tryce is doing? Making sure I’m aware of his presence? I don’t know why that bothers me. It’s not like Cara goes out of her way to be nice, especially after I royally fucked up last night. In lab earlier, she eyed me as if I’m the contaminant in the failed experiment. That is when she isn’t checking me out. I’ve noticed the way her eyes flicker with want. There’s a certain level of chemistry between us that I’d love to explore. Or I thought there was anyway. Perhaps I only imagined it? She may have saved my photo, but it wasn’t my hands touching her back there.

  Tomorrow in lab, I’ll be the most professional lab partner ever to step foot in biochemistry. There will be no more flirting. No more playing nice. If she wants to go out with that pencil dick, she’s more than welcome. All I did was toss some attention her way, which she clearly didn’t appreciate. She doesn’t need to worry about it any longer. I’m done.

  Now, if I can tell that to my dick, I’ll be golden.

  Chapter Fifteen

  CARA

  Somberness hangs thick in the air, snuffing the upbeat vibe this campus usually offers in spades. The university’s dean took pity on the students and canceled classes today. That helps, but work doesn’t stop. This is a busy campus. Home to Division I athletes, a highly acclaimed art department, and competitive science department, there are certain things needing to be done—like our lab assignment.

  I’m fully prepared to check on the samples myself. In fact, I’d prefer it, which is why I came early. I’m not sure how to look Braxton in the face when my awful professor insists on printing the article. He gave me some bullshit excuse of it being too late, but the glee in his voice couldn’t be more telling. He’s hoping for a huge controversy. I know he is.

  And he may just get it.

  Rumors about an arsonist are already floating in the dining hall during breakfast this morning. With my stupid article coming out next Tuesday, my words will serve to flame that controversy. The rumors won’t rest until the investigation is over with either. There’s no way I can let Braxton know my pen name now. I don’t want anyone knowing.

  Beyond frustrated, I step into the laboratory and halt. My heart does an annoying flip at the sight of Braxton working on the lab assignment. His black running shirt stretches across those broad shoulders. He’s so beautiful it’s painful. His gaze fixates on the flask in front of him, but the intensity of his concentration stirs my insides.

  Which is stupid.

  But I’ve been fighting this attraction to him. After seeing the vulnerability in his eyes last night as he searched for his sister and the almost palpable relief as he pulled her into a hug, my guard is down. A slow smile touches my lips. It’s hard to remember why I hate cocky baseball players when they display their emotions so openly.

  My gaze flicks to another student sitting at the farthest table. He’s working on his samples and doesn’t look up. Understandably so. But neither does Braxton. Even when I place my book bag in the cubicle next to him, he doesn’t say a word.

  “Hello.” My greeting forces Braxton to acknowledge my existence but not by much. All he does is flick those striking blue eyes my way and then returns to the flasks. The moment was enough to notice the normal luster coating his eyes has dulled.

  “Hope you don’t mind, but I went ahead and got started early.”

  “No. It’s good.” I bite my lip at his abruptness. This tone is new. The attitude could be from his sister’s situation, but I get the distinct feeling it’s directed toward me. Perhaps, in my quest to stay aloof yesterday, I came across bitchier than I thought. “I take it we did good yesterday and the media stayed sterile?”

  “Yeah. You can double-check if you don’t trust my assessment.”

  Trust his assessment? Hmm, his attitude is definitely directed toward me. But why? I wasn’t that mean. I answer cautiously, “No. I know you’re quite capable.”

  Braxton grunts, and I pull out the log book and start logging in the information. He remains quiet as the minutes tick by. I should be glad he’s not trying to converse—my mood is anything but friendly—but his indifference is driving me crazy. I finally break, unable to take the silent treatment any longer.

  “I’m glad your sister was okay.” I mean this with great sincerity. No one died in the fire, but five students had to be taken to the hospital for smoke inhalation. His slight nod doesn’t settle my nerves, and I feel the need to explain myself. “Lexie told me that was your sister’s residence hall.”

  I grab the media and start putting it away. He remains indifferent, not saying one single joke or innuendo. His silence should be my cue to quit talking, but I’m on a roll. I can’t seem to stop myself. “I heard the dorm will have to be demolished, but that could be a rumor.”

  Oh my God, I need to quit talking about the building. I give Braxton a once-over. What happened between yesterday and today? I mean, besides the obvious, but his sister is safe. Perhaps worrying about where she’s going to stay has killed his playful banter? I don’t know why I care. I should be happy he’s not flirting. It’s what I wished for from the beginning. It’s just, in less than twenty-four hours, he went from hot to cold. It’s like I did something to piss him off.

  “I can’t believe that happened.” A shiver races down my spine from the seriousness of it, and I can’t seem to shut up. “My brother’s girlfriend, Mia, attends here and received the text alert. Needless to say, she was freaked.”

  No response.

  “I missed her call at first, so by the time I called her back, she was practically in tears.”

  Still nothing.

  “It took about twenty minutes to reassure her I was safe.” Mia knew it wasn’t my residence hall, but she worried I could’ve been visiting someone. AJ’s on the road, so he wasn’t around to keep her calm. I offered to head over to their apartment and stay the night. She refused. “I felt really bad for missing her first call.”

  After a moment, he grunts but adds nothing else. Fine. I get it. He’s pissed at me for reasons beyond my knowledge. I can take the hint and stop talking. The assignment is about ready to wrap up, anyway. So, that’s what I do. I don’t say a word while I show Braxton the last culture slide. He doesn’t say anything as he nods his approval.

  This is beyond ridiculous.

  “You could’ve texted me to come earlier. I would’ve been glad to meet you,” I say. Apparently, I can’t remain quiet longer than five minutes.

  He stills. “I’m fine.”

  I snap the cap on the vials and place them in the rack. Anger races through my veins. I can’t stand this silent treatment any longer.

  “What is your problem?” My voice pitches higher, causing the guy in the far back corner to lift his eyes to us. I set my jaw in determination. Subtlety has never been my forte.

  “I don’t have a problem.”

  “Hmm, I think you do.”

  “Well, I don’t.”

  “You’ve never been this standoffish.”

  He finally turns and stares at me. “I don’t know if you realized but there was a fire here on campus that dislodged my sister. I needed to come in early because I’m heading to housing before practice. I need to secure her a place to stay.” He grabs his backpack and heads toward the door.

  Oh, hell no. He’s not going to dump that excuse on me and take off. I snatch my bag and jog after him.

  “Just a second. You don’t get to be rude to me and just leave.”

  “I think I just did.”

  “Braxton, stop. Just listen.” The thoughts swarming through my head are bad. Very, very bad. But I feel compelled to help for some unknown reason.

  “Falling on deaf ears, Pole Girl.”

  “Jesus, slow down.” At five foot nine, I’m far from short, but his long-ass stride is hard
to keep up with, especially with a tweaked ankle. I half-jog to reach him, and a pain shoots up my calf. “Ouch.”

  He stops, and I almost plow into his back. When he turns to face me, the funny flip my heart did earlier returns followed by a fluttering. Holy shit, he’s so close. Cedar, lemons, and everything masculine engulfs me. I gulp, fighting the urge to nestle against that solid wall of muscle and breathe deeper. Overwhelmed by his presence, I take a small step back and try to gather my wits.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Huh?” I ask, still mesmerized by his presence.

  “You cried out in pain.” His brows draw together as his gaze roams along my body. His concern isn’t helping me restore my mental faculties. No, it only serves to deepen his hold on me.

  “It’s nothing. I tweaked my ankle last night.”

  “Did you ice and elevate it? You shouldn’t be walking around on it.”

  Concern coats his face, making me stutter. “Yeah, I-I’m fine, really. I had my own personal nurse last night.” As soon as the words leave my mouth, Braxton’s entire body stiffens. I don’t know what I said to make him mad this time, but Lexie took care of me when we got back to the dorm. He turns and steps forward. “Wait, don’t go. I can help your sister.”

  “Highly doubt it.”

  “I can. I have space in my dorm.”

  “What do you mean?” He hesitates before looking directly at me. There’s conflict swirling around the blues of his eyes, a battle between wanting to ditch me and needing to listen.

  “My roommate bailed after room assignments. I have space. I’m sure it’s a matter of time before housing realizes this anyway. If they assign me a roommate, it may as well be your sister.” I know this is a bad idea, but just because they’re related doesn’t mean he’ll be over all the time, right?

  His jaw ticks as he contemplates what to say. He knows my offer is too good to pass up, but yet, he acts as if he doesn’t want to agree. He acts as if he’s still pissed at me.

  What the hell did I do? I can’t think of a single thing to warrant this hostility. I edge closer to erase the gap and place my hand on his forearm. “Let me help.”