Swinging Strike (Cessna U Wildcats Book 1)

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Swinging Strike (Cessna U Wildcats Book 1) Page 27

by Kimberly Readnour


  “How am I supposed to know to ask that?”

  “Do I need to make you a list of proper etiquette?”

  “Okay, wiseass.” He scoops me up. “Is there anything else I need to know?”

  “Hmm, my birthday is coming up.”

  “When?”

  “Next Saturday.”

  “No kidding? Were you going to tell me?”

  I give a noncommittal shrug.

  “We’ll have to plan something. Kind of sucks, it’s right before finals.”

  “I know. I’m used to it. That’s why I brought my homework with me, but I feel prepared.”

  “I’ve come prepared this weekend, too.”

  I laugh. “Oh, you did?”

  “Ummhmm.” That’s all he says before his lips meet mine, each slow tantalizing kiss promising hope.

  For our relationship.

  For our future.

  No matter how badly I want him, how good he feels, I can’t stop thinking about how I didn’t want a relationship built on sex. Maybe ours isn’t entirely that way. Maybe, I’m overthinking. Lord knows I’m content with Braxton’s arms wrapped around me. But no matter how good this guy makes me feel; I can’t stop the fragment of worry gnawing at my gut. It’s as if I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  CARA

  “To the birthday girl!” Lexie raises her vodka tonic, which glows green from the spotlights beaming around the room, in the air. I promptly match her glass with my Moscow mule.

  “I’ll drink to that.” My official birthday is tomorrow, but since Braxton and I will be celebrating with AJ and Mia tomorrow night, Lexie insisted we go out tonight. I’m glad I listened. We haven’t done anything together for a while. We went out to eat first and ended up at Beats.

  “I wish we didn’t have to leave Shannon behind,” I say, my voice competing with the music. Shannon acted cool with not going, but I still feel bad. Without fake identification, she wouldn’t be allowed entrance to the dance club. Braxton and I found out that particular information when we came here for our date. Thank goodness, we both carried our fake ones because we had such a great time.

  Lexie gives me a what-can-you-do look. “Don’t worry about it. She understands. Does she know you might be staying at my place tonight?”

  I give her a dismissive wave. “It’ll be okay. She won’t be waiting for me.” Part of me hopes Braxton will show up and I go home with him. I left him a text about our plans, but he never returned it. Or maybe, he has, and his message is sitting on my phone unread. I’ll never know because Lexie stole my phone. I checked it too many times in front of her. The fatal mistake was pulling my phone out while the Uber driver took us to the restaurant. She snatched it out of my hands, and I haven’t seen it since.

  “This place is awesome.” Lexie glances around the darkened club now sporting an orange hue. I follow her gaze to the massive dance floor and start swaying to the beat, dying to join the other dancers.

  “It really is. We need to finish our drinks and get out there.” I take a sip of my third fifteen-dollar cocktail, already starting to feel the effects. No matter how tipsy I am, I still won’t abandon our drinks. I don’t trust anyone, and they’re way too expensive to waste.

  “Agreed.” She tosses her glass back like it’s a shot. I shake my head in laughter and glance over her shoulder, but my laugh dies when my gaze lands on the last person I want to see, Drake Gunner.

  What the hell is he doing here?

  “My ex is sitting behind you.”

  Lexie’s jaw drops. “What? Your ex from Philly?”

  “The very one,” I say dryly, still wondering why or how he’s here. Mia didn’t tell me he was coming for a visit.

  “I have to see what he looks like.” Lexie turns in her chair right as I tell her not to. “Oh my God. He’s so hot.”

  “He knows it too.”

  Drake leans his back against the bar and scans the area. His eyes grow wide when they land on me. The corner of his mouth lifts to a smirk. I curse under my breath as he pushes off the counter and heads over toward us.

  Lexie slams her empty glass down and stands up. “I’m going to the bathroom, then we’re hitting the dance floor.”

  “No, don’t leave me.” My voice pitches higher as panic sets in. I don’t want to be here by myself.

  “Sorry, but I have to pee. But when I come back, I’ll totally be rude to him.”

  “Bitch,” I say playfully and glance down at my half-full copper mug. I wince as the traitor laughs, hating to waste my drink, but I can’t deal with him by myself. I scoot toward the edge of the seat.

  “He’s going to talk with you sooner or later. You may as well get it over with.”

  Deflated, I slump in the seat and hiss, “You owe me.”

  “Hello, girls.”

  The hairs on the back of my neck stand to attention as I stare up at Drake. Lexie turns to glare at him, but it quickly drops when his famous come-fuck-me smile spreads across that face of his. Ugh. How many girls have fallen for that? I used to find it charming. Now, I just want to punch it off his face. God, I wish Braxton was here.

  “H-hi,” Lexie stammers. “I was just… Yeah, I’ll be right back.”

  Drake chuckles knowing full well the effect he has on the female species. He turns that smile toward me, but my glare never wavers.

  “Why are you here?” I ask.

  He shrugs and glances around the room. “I came to dance.”

  “You just happened to pick this place?”

  “My inside connection told me a certain someone would be here.”

  Damn Mia. I shouldn’t have told her about my plans tonight.

  “What do you want, Drake?”

  His studies me. “What I want is for you to come home with me.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You asked what I want. I never lied to you, Cara. I’m not going to start now.”

  I hate feeling embarrassed about everything that went down between us. That doesn’t last long when he slides beside me.

  “What are you doing?” I ask, scooting all the way to my left and leaving a space between us. He doesn’t take the hint and closes the gap.

  “Since you’re the one who ended things, the least you can do is dance with me.”

  “There wouldn’t be any point.” Or nothing good to come of that.

  “Ouch.” His eyes reflect a mock hurt. This guy has girls lined up around the block for him. No way has he been pining over me.

  “There are plenty of people here. I’m sure you’ll have no problem finding someone to take my place.”

  He lays a hand on my forearm and leans in next to my ear. “You were the one I want though. Dance with me.”

  I shake my head and take another drink. “That’s not a good idea.”

  “Does this have to do with the douchebag you took to the game?”

  “You mean my boyfriend? The one you treated horribly?”

  “He handled himself fine.” Drake waves his hand dismissively. As if Braxton isn’t anything more than a pesky fly. “I’ve missed you.”

  “You missed me or having sex with me?”

  “You were always good in bed.” He flashes me those straight teeth. That smile used to melt my panties on the spot. Now, I find it irritating as hell.

  “You’re such a pig. Please leave.”

  “Dance with me.”

  “I said no.”

  “Give me one good reason why you won’t.”

  “I don’t cheat on the people I love.”

  His jaw ticks as he stares at me. I shift uncomfortably in my seat. Hurry up, Lexie. The last thing I want to do is fight with Drake. How I ever liked this egotistical bastard is beyond me.

  “If he’s such a great guy, why isn’t he with you. Just saying.” He raps his knuckle on the table. “Later.”

  “What did Asshole want?” Lexie asks as she returns.

  “To dance.”

  “Bitc
h, if anyone is going to dance with you, it’s me. Let’s go!”

  Thirty minutes later, not only am I feeling the beats resonate through me but also the full effects of the alcohol. I’m in my element shaking my hips to hip-hop. Lexie grabs hold of my hand as we shake our bodies to the music blaring through the speakers. I’m in such a good mood, not even the girl I think is Isabella nor old ex can deter me. Nothing or nobody is slowing me down.

  Lexie leans in next to my ear and yells, “Do you see who’s here? Kyle Grady.”

  “Our quarterback?”

  “Yes, and he looked over at me.”

  I glance past her shoulder and try not to smile. “Be prepared.”

  “What?” she asks, but when Kyle’s hands land on her hips, her mouth shapes into an “O.” The initial shock wears off quickly, and she starts grinding against him.

  I continue to dance because I don’t need a partner. And by the way Lexie and Kyle are going at it, I’m definitely flying solo. After a few minutes, I feel pressure at my backside as someone comes up behind me and starts grinding against my ass. At first, I smile and keep dancing, thinking Braxton came after all, but then the familiarity feels off. When hands land on my hips and work along my side, my brain freezes. I know exactly who’s behind me. Drake.

  Chapter Forty

  BRAXTON

  Adrenaline rushes through my veins only to be chased by heaviness settling in my chest. Of all the fucking nights.

  Rick: I’ll be there Saturday night.

  Me: How long you in town for?

  As I wait for his reply, I grab a water from the refrigerator and join the guys on the couch. Practice ran over tonight, so we’re given a pass for tomorrow. We only have weight conditioning in the morning, so the guys, minus Garret, are discussing where to go. Garret left for home straight after practice leaving me as the tiebreaker. I’m open to suggestions, considering Cara is having a girl’s night out. Part of me considers crashing her evening, especially since she practically asked me to, but she doesn’t get to go out with Lexie too often. I don’t want to be the hovering boyfriend.

  “Did Rick text you?” Noah asks as he grabs the remote off the end table and turns on the sports channel.

  “Yeah, it looks like he’ll be here tomorrow.” Which doesn’t bode well for me. Tomorrow is Cara’s birthday, and we have plans with her brother. There’s no way I can get out of it, not that I want to. I just hate missing Rick. “I texted to see how long he’s staying.”

  “He’s only in town for one night and wants everyone to go out. I texted Garret to let him know in case he wants to come back.”

  I squeeze my eyes shut and let out a groan. “I can’t go. I have plans with Cara for her birthday.”

  “Maybe you can join us later?”

  “Maybe.” I’m guessing Cara won’t want to spend her birthday evening listening to us play catch up.

  “What’s the plan for tonight? We going to hit up Barton’s?” Dalton asks.

  I double-check my cell, but neither Rick nor Cara has texted back. A pang twists my gut, but it has no warrant. Cara’s at Beats. Her non-reply makes sense because I doubt her ringtone is audible.

  We’ve been good since returning from my parents’, but that doesn’t negate the fact I feel like shit for saying those vile words I didn’t even mean. Despite Cara’s wishes, I should’ve fessed to Dad what she means to me. Cara deserves to be known for more than just some fling.

  Jesus, how did she even take me back after that?

  And Cara isn’t Jasmine. She isn’t a liar or a cheater. I can keep my jealousy in check even with the thought of her dancing on the floor and shaking that ass. I clench my teeth knowing I need to let that go. I trust her, just not the others.

  Me: Going to Barton’s with the guys. Let me know when you see this.

  “Checking in?” Noah raises an eyebrow.

  “No.” Not exactly.

  “When did you turn into that guy? You know, the one who needs permission?”

  I flip him off much to his delight. “I don’t need permission, asshole.”

  “Sure, sure.” He laughs while I punch out a text with the time. “I say we go out, have some fun, and forget about the fact you’re pussy-whipped.”

  “Hardy-har-har.”

  Thirty minutes later, we’re sitting at a booth at Barton’s. Dalton makes his way to the bar hoping his fake identification will score him a drink.

  “What do you think about Dalton?” I ask.

  “He’ll be a good asset.”

  “I’m not sure about his attitude. He’s kind of distant.”

  “He came out tonight with us. That’s a start.”

  “Yeah, but I don’t know. There’s just something about him. And he never explained why he arrived at school late. Don’t you find that odd?”

  “Eh, it could be because he doesn’t know us, yet. Maybe he’s not comfortable.”

  I shrug. “I suppose you’re right. Maybe jumping on him about Shannon wasn’t the best move?”

  Noah stiffens. I’m not sure if Dalton was hitting on Shannon or not, but at least, I know Noah didn’t like it either.

  “Probably not, but ground rules needed to be established,” he says.

  “That’s why we’re friends. You’ve got my back.”

  I toss a few more beers back, and I’m starting to feel the effects. The last thing I want to be is hungover tomorrow, but they’re going down smoothly. I check my phone to see if there has been any reply yet from Cara. None. I don’t want to be all jealous and pissy. I did that the last time I had a girlfriend, and I don’t want to do that this time. But her lack of response is pissing me off.

  My phone buzzes. About time, I think, but it’s Isabella’s name lighting up my screen.

  Izzy: She has good taste.

  I let out a frustrated sigh and pull up her cryptic text. The moment the picture loads, all the self-talk about not being jealous flies out the window. A sea of red fills my vision. Well, that and Drake Gunner looking rather comfy next to Cara, whispering in her ear.

  “Who’s that?” Noah asks.

  “Drake Gunner,” I say between clenched teeth. “Cara’s ex.”

  Noah’s eyes widen. “Cara’s ex is Drake Gunner? The Drake Gunner as in the Phillies catcher?”

  “Yep.”

  “Holy shit. How?”

  I shake off his question and rise to my feet. There isn’t time to explain. “Looks like we’re taking a side trip to Beats.”

  Noah shakes his head but pulls up the Uber app. “Whatever you say, but I bet there’s an explanation.

  Thirteen dollars and twenty minutes later, we walk into Beats. I scan the bar first, but neither Cara nor Drake is there. I shift my gaze to the dance floor, and my breath catches. There stands my girl shaking her ass in front of Drake.

  I stalk forward, but a hand lands on my chest stopping me.

  “Let it go,” Noah says.

  “Fuck that.” Nostrils flaring, I move another step forward, but he grasps me backward.

  “Let. It. Go. You can’t afford to cause a scene. Not here. Not this year. Think about it, man. Going after a professional ballplayer won’t go over well. You’ll be on the losing end.”

  All rational thought leaves as Drake steps closer to her backside, his hands gripping her hips. She doesn’t even try to move away. Instead, she continues dancing. I’m not sure what happens. One minute, I visualize waylaying Drake on the floor, but the next minute, I’m in the parking lot with Noah and Dalton gripping my chest, holding me back.

  “They’re just dancing,” Noah says.

  “That fucker has his hands all over her.” I shake to break free, but their grip tightens.

  “You can’t cause a scene. I’m not going to let you toss your career away over this. I’m sure there’s an explanation.”

  “Yeah, like she’s fucking him on the side.”

  “Think about it. Does that even sound like something she’d do? She’s not Jasmine.”

 
; Sometimes, I hate that Noah knows me so well. I begrudgingly say, “No,” because I know he’s right. But damn, if I don’t want to listen to reason right now. This scenario is eerily familiar. One thing’s for sure, Cara will be giving me that explanation later.

  Chapter Forty-One

  CARA

  Make the noise stop. The pounding in my head is like a symphony of pain and loudness. I pop one eye open to violet-colored walls and groan. It takes a moment to orient myself before the memories from last night rush back to me. I push off what must be Lexie’s bed and bring my hands to my head. It doesn’t stop the pain nor noise.

  “What is that awful sound?”

  “This is why I leave on Tuesdays and Thursdays.”

  Hmm, I must’ve asked that out loud. “So, that horrible wrenching sound is real?”

  “That would be my brother’s band.”

  “Good grief. No wonder you get away to study.” Still dressed in last night’s clothes, I pad across the room to find my shoes. “Tell me why going out dancing and drinking was a good idea?”

  “Because it isn’t every day you turn twenty-one. Happy birthday, by the way.”

  “Thanks.” I check the time and wince. It’s late in the morning, and I don’t have any more texts from Braxton. “I need to go and get ready.”

  “I hope you had fun. I know running into Drake was a bummer.”

  “Ugh, don’t remind me. He’s so freaking arrogant.”

  “I can’t believe he came up to you on the dance floor after you told him no.”

  “Me either. I should’ve throat punched him.” I let out a frustrated grunt and shudder, the memory of his hands sliding on my hips freaking me out.

  “Not a total loss. His ass landing on the dance floor was priceless.” She laughs but gives me a sympathetic look.

  “He obviously was drunker than I thought. I didn’t know he’d drop like that.” A slight giggle escapes. “Maybe, next time, he’ll keep his hands to himself.”

  “He’ll definitely think twice before pawing you.”

 

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