Behind the Count: Cessna U Wildcats Book Two

by Readnour, Kimberly

  “That can’t be Cara and Shannon. They wouldn’t ring the bell.”

  “It’s probably Marla.” Disgust laces the edges of my voice.

  “Seriously, bro? I thought you were done with her.”

  “You make me sound like a pig.” But he’s right. I am. Done with her, that is.

  “Truth hurts,” he singsongs before I reach the door.

  “Surprise,” Marla yells with her hands extended out for a hug.

  “It’s not a surprise when you warned me you were coming.”

  “Silly boy.” She presses her tits against my chest as she hugs me, and I have to resist the urge to push her away. “See, I knew you wanted me tonight.”

  I break free from her embrace and run my hand through my hair, glancing over my shoulder at Braxton. “Like I said in the text, tonight’s not a good night.”

  “Stop it.” She smacks my chest and barges inside.

  By all means, let yourself in. “Marla, I’m serious.”

  “Supper will be ready in thirty minutes,” Braxton yells as he pours tomato sauce over the tops of the shells and shoves the pan into the oven.

  “Let’s hope it’s edible.” I can’t stop the chide. The front door swings open right as Braxton tells me where to shove my sarcasm, but his anger fades the moment he locks eyes with Cara.

  I can’t help but seek out Shannon walking behind her. Her eyes find mine, but when she notices the girl standing next to me, she averts her gaze. I swallow back a frustrating sigh. I may be off the hook with one Smith, but I still have an uphill battle with the other.

  This is going to be one long and awkward evening.

  Chapter Three

  Shannon

  The moment Cara and I step through the threshold, my gaze drifts straight to Noah as it has for countless numbers of years. Remorse etches his face as he stands rigid and tall. That’s the thing about jock row housing. Their open-floor layout makes it impossible to hide when the one person you’ve been avoiding stands front and center—next to a girl, no less.

  I pull my gaze away from his and straight to a brunette. The same brunette who is in my computer-aided design class. No wonder, the girl seemed familiar. She’s the same one who staked a claim to him last fall. Interesting. She must’ve known I was Braxton’s sister. In class, she wore nothing but smiles. She isn’t smiling at me now. Unless those daggers are the friendly variety kind. Maybe she feels threatened or thinks there is something behind the look Noah and I exchanged. I don’t know, but she doesn’t waste time sidling next to him and jockeying her position. My lips clamp tighter. No amount of preparation could have prepared me for this. I feel betrayed when I don’t have the right to be, but here I stand, shocked and hurt he’d invite a girl over when I’m going to be here.

  I’ve been pretty good about hiding away from him. When he came to visit Braxton during those last few weeks before school started, I made every excuse in the world to leave and stay away from him. I had to. I knew it would be awkward seeing him after our kiss, but I didn’t expect him to act as if nothing happened. Yes, I had hoped he’d be too drunk to remember, but I didn’t think he’d actually forget. Not after that second kiss. That hurt worse than his rejection. I want to hate him, but this is Noah, my lifelong crush and friend. My feelings don’t come with a spigot that turns off.

  And no matter how hard I try to forget, I can’t look at him without remembering how good his lips felt against my skin. The soft nips. The slight tease. And the way my body responded all too well to his touch. The feeling is all-consuming and abhorrent at the same time. I didn’t want to risk looking like a lovesick child, rejected and forgotten. So, I chose to stay away. The plan was working brilliantly until my brother decided to do something uncharacteristic and cook.

  If stepping back in time and having a redo was an option, I’d dive headfirst into that wormhole. The first thing to change would be answering his damn text. I should have hit ignore. Although, knowing Noah, he would’ve come over anyway since he knew I was home alone.

  The second thing to change would be initiating the first kiss. In my defense, I took his kind gesture to mean more. That’s on me, but it doesn’t make the scenario any less embarrassing.

  “You really cooked?” Cara asks Braxton as we pad across the hardwood floor to the kitchen.

  “The apocalypse must’ve happened,” I add with a wink. My brother never cooks. I didn’t know he had it in him. To his credit, the kitchen smells delicious.

  “Ha, ha.” Braxton kisses Cara on the head. “I have many skills. Right, babe?”

  “Stop. I don’t want to hear about any of your skills.” I make a gagging sound and turn away, but my gaze lands on Noah. Our stare holds for a moment before I force myself to break eye contact. His body shifts uncomfortably and serves to make me feel worse. I hate this awkwardness between us, but what I hate more is the girl sidled up against him. Admittedly, he doesn’t look too thrilled.

  Cara’s gaze shifts between Noah and me, but thankfully, she remains quiet. I’m not sure if she missed the fact Noah and I haven’t spoken one word to each other or not. I hope so because that’s one conversation I’d rather avoid.

  “Can we go to your room? We need to talk.”

  Everyone’s gaze lands on the brunette, including Noah’s. He eases back until there is space between them, which both thrills and annoys me. And I shouldn’t care about the slight irritation coating his expression either.

  “Marla, there isn’t anything for us to discuss.”

  Her eyes narrow as she crosses her arms. The same evil glint reserved for me is now directed at Noah. Cara and Braxton exchange a look, and I… Well, I can’t seem to stop staring.

  “There most certainly are things to talk about.”

  Noah’s face tightens. “I’ve told you—”

  The back door swings open, interrupting Noah, and pulls everyone’s attention to a sweaty Dalton. The current first baseman’s eyes widen as he checks out the mess on the kitchen island. But then he flashes me his signature flirtatious smirk that drives Braxton insane. “Hey, Shannon. Summer’s been good to you.”

  “Thanks.” I press my lips together to keep from smiling. But I didn’t wear my white short-shorts that makes my sun-kissed tan pop or my neon pink cotton tee that cuts off right above my midriff for my brother’s fourth roommate. Nor did I wear my hair straight—the way a certain guy once said he liked back when we were talking—for him. But I must admit, it feels good to have someone notice my efforts.

  By the way Braxton and Noah glare, they do not like the fact he noticed. Dalton’s such a flirt. He’s cute as well, but we’re nothing more than friends. We talked a lot last year. He’s a great guy, but sparks don’t ignite when we’re together. Not like they do when I’m with Noah.

  Ugh, I need to quit thinking of Noah in that way. He isn’t attracted to me. The sooner I accept that, the better off my mental health will be.

  Dalton grabs water from the refrigerator while Marla lets out another huff.

  “Noah.” His name comes across as a high-pitched demand.

  His low growl is hard to miss. “Come with me.” Noah grabs her arm, and my chest constricts at the thought of them going to his bedroom. Even with a girl by his side, I still don’t like the idea of him being with anyone but me. Instead of stepping toward the living room, he nudges her to the same door Dalton entered.

  Dalton lowers his water bottle and swipes the back of his hand across his mouth. “What the hell is that about?”

  “Noah’s stalker. She won’t leave him alone. I told him not to double-dip her, but he didn’t listen.”

  Clueless. My brother is fucking clueless when it comes to my feelings.

  “Braxton,” Cara chides. “It amazes me I ever fell in love with you.”

  “What? It’s true. He needs to stop tapping that. The chick is clingier than shit.”

  And my stomach sinks even lower at the thought of them sleeping together.

  “Clingier than shit?
” Disbelief coats Dalton’s voice as he repeats Braxton’s words. “You may need to see a proctologist.”

  Cara belts out a laugh as Braxton says, “Hardy har, har.”

  I force a smile, but my insides ache.

  “You could at least phrase it better,” Cara says.

  “Oh!” Braxton snaps his fingers and turns to me. “Guess who I ran into earlier?”

  “How should I know? There’re over thirty thousand people on campus.”

  “Caleb Brenner. And yes, he’s still as douchey as ever.”

  I repeat, clueless. I flatten my hand against my chest as the sickening feeling returns from the mention of my ex-boyfriend. Caleb is a year older and broke up with me right before I attended Cessna U. I can’t stand him. I told everyone he broke up with me because I wouldn’t sleep with him. My excuse sounded good at the time and much better than the truth.

  I figured I’d run into him sooner or later, but this is a large university. I held on to a sliver of hope that I’d avoid him. We certainly don’t take the same classes.

  Noah walks in alone. I don’t have time to process how that makes me feel as my head is trying to grasp my brother’s words. I turn toward my brother. “What did he have to say?”

  “Nothing in particular. He saw me first and waved.”

  “That’s it? All he did was wave.” The last thing I want to do is defend my ex, but how is waving being a douchebag?

  “Yep, but I hate his look. He’s arrogant as fuck.”

  “You must be talking about Caleb. He was always a dickhead in school.” Noah looks directly at me. “I’m glad you’re not with him anymore. I never knew what you saw in him.”

  Well, look there, would you? The man can actually speak.

  I hold Noah’s gaze and bite back the bitchy retort. Being snarky won’t do us any good. “He was the only guy who stood up to Braxton.”

  Dalton raises an eyebrow as Noah bristles. Okay, maybe a little snark won’t hurt. I certainly feel better.

  “Besides,” I continue, looking away, “he treated me good until he didn’t.”

  “Isn’t that the truth will all men,” Cara says. She turns to my brother. “You better never change.”

  “Hey, you don’t have to worry about me. I’ll only improve.”

  “Need some pointers there, Smith?” Noah laughs when Braxton flips him off.

  “You’re not going to stick up for me, Pole Girl? Even after I cooked you this gourmet meal?” He points to the stove, but all I see is the mess on the counter. Braxton is a sloppy chef.

  Cara laughs and pats his chest. “My man can get there on his own, guys.”

  “Not quite what I was going for, babe.” Braxton’s deadpanned tone sends us all laughing.

  The front door clicks open, and a woof echoes in the room as if saying “I’m home.” The patter of nails clicking across the wood floor brings a smile to my face. I’ve missed the furry beast. Miller races straight to Cara. She drops to one knee and gives him a hug.

  “I’ve missed you. Have you been a good boy all summer?” She scratches behind his ear as he gives us an approving bark.

  “I don’t think I received that kind of greeting when you first saw me after summer league ball.” There’s a hint of jealousy to Braxton’s tone that makes me roll my eyes.

  “Seriously, Gee-Gee, you need to stop being jealous over a dog.” I dip to the floor and start petting his belly. Miller rolls on to his back and basks in the attention.

  “I think Braxton has a point,” Dalton says, directing his statement toward me. He winks, and I shake my head, smile, and return my attention to Miller. I don’t miss the way Noah’s nostrils flare. My body warms, falling back into the trap of believing his anger as a sign of his jealousy. I should know by now his actions are nothing more than him being overprotective like my brother. I want to scream at my stupidity. Seeing him with another girl should be proof enough he doesn’t like me that way.

  And to prove my earlier point of overprotective men in my life, my brother speaks. “Boundaries, Dalton. Know them.”

  Dalton follows with a low chuckle.

  “What the hell is this? Someone’s half-foiled attempt to cook?” Garret points to the mess Braxton has yet to clean.

  “What is up with all you self-doubters? You act as if I never cook.”

  “You don’t,” Garret and Noah say simultaneously.

  “The question is, why?” Skepticism lies heavy in Garret’s eyes.

  “We’re celebrating. Cara got the internship at the vet clinic.”

  “That’s chill. Congrats.” Garret smiles widely at Cara. “If Miller gets sick, you can take care of him.”

  “I’ll hook him up.”

  As Cara explains to the guys what her job entails, I sneak off to the couch for some much-needed distance. My brother’s house is the last place I want to be. Which is sad and pathetic, I know, but the fact still remains—being this close to Noah is painful. It doesn’t matter that a month has gone by. His rejection stings as much as the night he left. His silence is telling. Sure, Noah’s always been a quiet, sensible guy, but we’ve never had this awkward silence between us.

  “What’s going on? You seem off.” The cushion dips beside me as Dalton settles into it. He comes off as standoffish. From the wide berth the other teammates give him, I get the feeling he isn’t well-liked. But they don’t know him like I do. Once you get past the attitude, he’s actually a nice guy.

  “I’m okay. How was summer league?”

  He shrugs. “Same as always. The host family was decent.”

  Noah waltzes into the room and sits on the opposite end of the L-shaped couch. Of course, he does. I should’ve known Mr. Protector wouldn’t leave me alone with Dalton. Anger tries to bubble in my veins but fizzles the moment Noah stretches his long legs out. I try not to picture his abs and that glorious V-cut that’s hidden beneath his shirt. He directs his stare at Dalton, not saying a word.

  “Was the team good?”

  Dalton eyes Noah for a second and returns his gaze back to me. “Yeah, we put up some decent stats. Hopefully, this is the last time staying with host families. I’m ready to join professional ball.”

  “I imagine you are ready,” I answer Dalton’s question, trying to act as if I didn’t just take a trip down memory lane.

  “Getting drafted isn’t a guarantee,” Noah says.

  Dalton shrugs. “I’m not worried.”

  “Neither was I.” The look on Noah’s face is hard and rigid. I want to say something to ease his tension. Even though it’s silly of me to keep stewing over his rejection, I still need time to digest the summer before stroking his ego. But I know being passed over during the draft gutted him. He tries to pawn it off as not caring, but this is Noah I’m talking about. He’s been wanting to play pro ball for years. It’s his dream. Hell, it’s all of their goals, but Noah has never acted like he wants to do anything else.

  The night his professional dream was placed on hold, I cornered him away from my family. The playoffs for the College World Series were starting in the next few days, so we stayed at the hotel in Omaha, Nebraska. Using the excuse for wanting to see the downtown lights, I asked Noah to take me for a walk. Braxton knew his friend was upset and didn’t care that I monopolized his time. In fact, Gee-Gee was relieved since Dad’s obnoxious behavior was over-the-top humiliating. I’m sure Noah figured out my intentions were to distract him, but he never called me out. Strolling the downtown area with him is one of my favorite times we spent together.

  “What did you do all summer? Have any hot flings?” Dalton waggles his eyebrows, pulling me from memory lane.

  “Not hardly.” My laugh comes out strained. This time, when I look at Noah, our gazes lock and hold for a fraction, and I swear his eyes flash with lust. Or maybe regret. Whatever emotion he’s working through, it’s the first sign of acknowledging that night. I should be mad, infuriated even, but nope. My traitorous heart races because, oh my God, he does remember.

/>   Now, whether his remembrance is a good thing has yet to be determined.

  “That’s a damn shame.” Dalton flashes me his devilish smile. “You deserve to be ravished.”

  Noah clears his throat, but it comes out more like a grumble. Dalton laughs and pushes to his feet. “I’m going to take a shower. Care to join?”

  “Hmm, maybe later.” I press my lips together to keep from smirking. There’s no mistaking Noah’s growl this time as he stalks toward the kitchen. I chuckle. “You’re so bad.”

  “Who says I was joking.”

  I shake my head at the impish gleam in his eye. “You’re going to get your ass kicked.”

  “They need to lighten up. You’re a big girl.”

  I couldn’t agree more. “I do have something to ask you, though.”

  “What’s that?”

  I glance toward the kitchen. The guys and Cara are congregated around the island. Without risking anyone overhearing, I drop my voice. “I was wondering if you’d help me train for the color run. Basically, just be my buddy while I work myself up to it.”

  “Sure, we can run together.”

  My gaze slides to the group before landing back on Dalton. “We need to keep this between the two of us.”

  His lips purse for a moment while he studies me. I’m sure he’s questioning why I don’t want anyone knowing, but I’m not telling him the real reason. I don’t need anyone else’s pity. Finally, he exhales. “I’m in. I don’t give a shit what they say. You’re quite capable of making your own decisions.”

  The stove timer buzzes, and Braxton’s voice carries across the room. “Supper’s ready!”

  “I best be getting that shower.”

  “Thanks. I’ll text you later to find out when we can start.”

  “You’ve got it.”

  I walk back to the kitchen, feeling a little lighter despite the lingering uneasiness between Noah and me. There isn’t anything for me to do besides get over him. It’s just when you’ve crushed on someone since childhood it’s going to take time.

  When I have to stand right next to Noah as Braxton removes the dish from the stove, I realize a month hasn’t been long enough.