Stealing Reese (Wildcat Graduates Book 5), page 21
“Yeah.” His eyes roam my face before a small grin quirks on the corner of his lips. “We can start by me kicking your ass on Mortal Kombat,” he chuckles, receiving a swat to the chest from me.
“In ya dreams, Greyson.” His laughter grows bolder as I join him.
“We’ll see, smart ass. We’ll see.” Tugging me toward the bench, he picks up my bag, shoulders it, then leads us back toward my dorm. It’s nearly time for his practice and he needs to change clothes. Walking hand-in-hand feels different now, more relaxed and natural, proving my instincts were right.
Tyler is a very close friend, but Dillon Montgomery is my best friend. My soulmate.
“You sure you don’t want to grab a bite with us?” Derek asks after I walk into our hotel room. He’s showered and dressed to meet a few of our teammates in the lobby for a late dinner.
Setting the plastic bag in my hand on the two person table, I shake my head. “I’m good,” I reply motioning to the sack. “I picked up something from the restaurant downstairs.” Tomorrow is a traveling day for us, and I’m ready for nothing more than to settle in and take care of a few things I’ve been working on.
“Suit yourself. Ya need anything, just holler,” he raises his chin in a nod and leaves the room.
Digging into my meal, I go over what I want to say to Reese. I’ve looked into several schools with programs for her major to come up with a few different options to look at that would help make a relationship together work. I know she feels as strongly for me as I do her. I feel it in my gut, hear it in the words she doesn’t say. I just have to convince her to give me another chance.
Finally finished eating, I throw away its container and settle against the headboard of my bed. It’s after ten now, and I can’t wait another second to hear her talk to me again. Her voice is the best sound I’ve ever heard. Even more mesmerizing than the crack my bat makes when it hits a ball.
“Hello,” her words spill out with a slight tremble. I’ve missed her so fucking much.
“Pieces,” is all I can utter before my words stop. Clearing my throat, I continue. There’s too much riding on this call to choke up now. “I hope I didn’t wake you.”
“You know I’m a night owl,” she laughs softly, then sighs. “I’m really glad you called.”
“Me, too.” She has no idea.
“You all settled in?”
“Yeah,” I lean back on the bed, “just finished eating take out from the hotel restaurant. You?”
“Finished homework earlier. Just waiting on you.” Her breathy words send warmth through my body, my cock happy to hear her voice. I miss her more than words could ever express.
“I wish you were here with me. It’s just not the same without you here to share it with.” There. Probably not the smoothest way to start off this conversation, but I give no fucks any longer. I’ve bided my time, giving us space and distance. Being friends when I wanted everything else from her, but no longer. I want her. All of her.
“Dillon,” she whispers, her tone of want and sadness pulls at my heart. “I miss you, too.”
“Fuck being friends. I want more and I can’t sit here, away from you, and not tell you.”
“What are you saying?” A tremble in her words wraps me up in knots that I’m not there to say things to her face, but there’s nothing I can do about that right now.
“I love you. I love you and I want you with me. I want to make things between us work. I need you.” My voice falters slightly on the last word, but it doesn’t matter. I want her to hear how sincere I am, how much I desperately need her.
Her lack of response has sweat forming on my forehead, insides churning, and every instinct I have questioning my plan. Have I totally screwed our relationship by confessing everything?
“I love you, too.” In a rush, I exhale a breath I didn’t know I was holding. Thank fuck! “I’ve missed you, Dillon.”
“I never thought I’d hear you say that,” I confess. “I know we can make things work. I’ve looked up different programs for your degree that will be closer to Houston where I’ll be located. If that’s not where you want to go, I’ve found several others that have great programs nearby. I’ll stay wherever you want. I just need us together.”
“You’ve really thought this through,” a small laugh fills her words.
“I’ve done nothing but think about you, about us. I know you’re with Tyler, but I can’t…”
“Ty and I broke up,” she spits out, effectively cutting off my speech. “We were never really more than friends,” she elaborates. “We tried being more, but it’s just not who we are.” Well, if that doesn’t shock me, I’m not sure what will.
“When?” I can’t help it, but I need to know the details. If there are any lingering feelings, or if there’s a chance for him to cause us problems later on down the road. He can try, but I’m not letting him succeed.
“Uhm,” she hesitates, undoubtedly chewing her pouty bottom lip. She always does when she’s nervous.
“Reese.”
“This afternoon. It’s been coming for a while. I just had to… get things straight.” What the hell does that mean?
“Is there anything I need to worry about? You still care about him?”
“No. Tyler and I really are friends, I think. He doesn’t have the same feelings for me you do.”
“How can you be sure?”
“Because he’s never looked at me the way you do. I’ve never had the same connection with him that we share. Not with anyone.” Her heartfelt confession sends relief pouring through me, because deep down, I feel that special pull she’s referring to. It’s never gone away.
“I’m all in, Reese. I won’t go any further if you don’t want this.” I’m not naive enough to think there aren’t some residual feelings for Greyson, even if it pisses me off to consider it.
“I want it, too. All of it.” The steel in her voice more than convinces me she’s serious about this decision. That’s all I need. “I want to be wherever you are.”
“I want that more than anything. There are several different places you can go for your major, I’ve checked them all out.”
“You’ve decided where you’ll live when the season is over?”
“I’ve thought about it, but don’t have any definite plans right now. I want to know where you want to be.”
“Dillon, you can’t base your career around my school. That’s insane.” The reprimand in her words is mixed with disbelief, and I can’t have that.
“It’s not insane, Pieces, it’s how we make it work. Compromising and being flexible.”
“Are you sure you want me there?” Is she for real? Did I not just explain to her how much I’ve thought this out?
“Stop. I know I want you, anywhere I can have you. Don’t question me again, woman.”
Her intake of breath alerts me that my tone was a tad more harsh than I wanted, but I can’t worry about that. She needs to understand just how much I need her with me. “Okay,” she gives in, her release of breath settling my nerves just a touch. “Tell me about these programs,” she urges, her way of changing the topic.
I take the list I’ve made from my duffel, and sit back down on the sofa, my feet kicked up on the rickety coffee table in front of it. I go through the schools and their proximity to Houston, where the team will be located. I’ve also looked into the requirements and what she’ll need to get transferred there, if she chooses one. Honestly, if she wanted to stay in Magnolia, I’d make it work. It would truly suck to be that far away from her during the season, but I’ll gladly take what I’m given and make it happen. Gabe’s advice only strengthened my resolve to see this through.
“That’s a lot to consider,” she states when I’ve given her the last college.
“It is a lot to take in, but I’ll email it all so that you have more time to look over.”
“I don’t know what to say.” The anguish in her voice is noticeable. That’s not what I want to hear. Not at all.
“Just promise me you’ll think this over? I know I kinda sprung all this on you, that you need time to think things through, but I’ll wait as long as you need me to. I’m not going anywhere, baby,” I promise, meaning every single word. There’s no way in hell I’m letting her go - if it even comes to that - without a fight.
“I’m not going anywhere, either.”
“Damn, I wish I was there with you. To kiss you, to hold you. Feel your breath on my skin.”
“Dillon,” she moans, her breathing whispy and shallow. My dick hardens more and I release some of the pressure by unzipping my pants. So glad Derek went out tonight.
“I think about you every day,” I continue, running my free hand along my hardening shaft. I apply more pressure when my erection tightens.
“I never stopped, you were always in my thoughts in some way.”
“What are you doing right now? Are you in bed?” I loosen my jeans further, sliding them down to my thighs.
“Yes,” her sexy, sultry response making my shaft throb with need.
“I bet you’re in those cute little boy shorts and matching tank top, aren’t you?” She always drove me mad with desire when she wore those. Fuck, I miss taking those off her.
“Maybe,” she purrs playfully, “Maybe not.”
“Wicked girl,” I grin, more turned on than ever. “Take those panties off for me.”
“Let me get the lock,” she replies, covers shifting roughly, leading to hurried footsteps across the tile floor. The lock clicking into place, she hustles back into bed, the cell jostling as she wiggles back under the covers. “Okay, they’re off,” she whispers.
“Pretend I’m there beside you, rubbing your clit slowly, kissing along your neck.” A tiny whimper escapes her, pulling a rumble from my chest. “How does that feel?”
“Mmm, good,” she moans in response. “I’m right there with you, your long, hard cock throbbing in my hand as I stroke it, hard.” She’s gonna kill me. “Do it,” she demands so I do the only thing I can and comply. My eyes closed, I can imagine her soft, delicate hands sliding up and down my cock, hard as steel, encouraging pre-cum with every pull.
“Reese,” I growl, “slide my fingers inside that warm, wet channel that’s dripping for me.” Circling the head of my cock with my thumb, I smear the moisture there all over, groaning in arousal.
“You always find the right spot,” she murmurs, her pleasure amping mine. “Dillon.”
“That’s right, baby.” Her moans and whimpers drive me to pump harder, faster with each stroke. The mere thought of her touching herself while thinking about me, drives me closer to the edge.
“Reese.”
“I’m close, so close,” her muffled words spur me on.
“Damn, baby, let go with me.” A few mores strokes carries us both over the edge, each reaching our climax together, my body tense as it rides out the last lingerings of my orgasm. Lying back, head on the back cushion and eyes closed, I try hard to slow my breathing. Small puffs of breath break the silence on her end as she, too, recovers from our shared moment.
“I miss you,” she whines lowly, her words edged with sadness. Fuck, what I wouldn’t give to be there with her. Forcing my feet to carry me to the bathroom, I hastily clean up.
“I know. Fuck, I need you.” Running my hand over my face then through my hair, I growl in frustration.
“I love you,” she assures, tone stronger than before.
“Please say we can try to make things work between us. I’ll do whatever you need, Reese.” Yeah, I’m begging, but I have no choice. I have nothing left to hide.
“I want nothing more than to be with you. I just need to figure things out, see what we’re dealing with,” she replies, her dedication to our relationship clear.
“I can live with that as long as I know you want us.”
“I do. I love you, Dillon Montgomery.”
“I love you, too, Pieces. Sleep well and dream of me?”
“You know I do,” she whispers as if she isn’t alone. “Call me tomorrow?”
“It’s our last game against the Rockies, but I’ll call you as soon as I can afterward.”
“I’ll be waiting,” her smile shining through her words, reaching inside my body and warming me throughout as contentment finally settles within.
“‘Night, Pieces.”
“Goodnight, Clutch.” She ends our call too quickly for my taste, so I remain seated while our conversation replays in my mind. The possibility of us being together, as a team, a couple, becoming a reality I’ve waited too long for.
Having sat for too long, I make my way to the bathroom to get ready to turn in for the night. It’s nearing eleven, and since we’re playing an earlier game than normal, I need to get as much sleep as possible.
As I slip into bed I see a text from Reese.
PIECES: Dream of me.
As if I had a choice.
Going over the list of colleges Dillon sent me, I find that he came much to the conclusion that I did. I understand he’d locate himself anywhere I want so long as we’re together, but I’m greedy and want as much time with him as possible. So, if that means transferring to Houston to be nearer to team base, then that’s where I want to be. Now, the only thing I have to figure out, is how to tell my parents. No pressure there.
Coming home to see my parents this weekend wasn’t originally in my plans, but the conversation with Dillon cemented the decision I’ve been toying with for weeks. Finding out that he missed me maybe more than I miss him gives me no other option but to go ahead and take that leap of faith in us. Hopefully, my parents can look past our current situation, hear out my very logical and carefully thought out college plans, despite whatever reservations they may have about my being with Dillon.
“Hey, pumpkin,” Dad calls out entering the living room after work. “I figured you’d be in here,” he grins while walking my way. Leaning over he gives me a hug while I sit on the couch. “What’s the score?” The Astros are playing and he never misses a game if he can help it.
“Five to three, Red Sox,” I reply with a frown. Our team’s having a hard time during this game causing my stomach to ache with nerves.
“What the hell’s up with that?” he grumbles, loosening then removing his tie.
“I don’t know, but they’d better wake the hell up,” I mutter focusing my attention back on the game.
“Mmph,” he grunts then shakes his head in irritation. “I’m gonna go change. Be back in a sec.”
“Okay,” I mutter before he turns to leave me watching the Red Sox at bat. “C’mon, Juarez. Strike his ass out,” I say to no one. My fingers grip the pillow rather roughly, and I force myself to loosen my grip before I put a hole in it and Mom kills me for destroying her newly decorated living room.
CRACK.
“YES!” I yell at the television when Derek catches the ball in the outfield and throws it to the pitcher to try and get the runner out.
“What’s all the commotion?” Mom says walking into the room with me, her purse and keys in hand. “Oh, I should have known,” she laughs at seeing what I’m watching. “Where’s your dad?”
“Someone call my name?” he gives her a kiss on the cheek and a swat on her butt when he reaches her side, receiving a smile in return, then comes to sit beside me in his recliner, newspaper in hand. Kicking the foot rest up, he settles in to see where the score is now.
“Good day?” she asks, looking from me to Dad.
“We’ll see about that when this game is over,” he states, already on edge with how the game is turning out. He hasn’t even opened up the paper.
“Classes were good,” I pull my eyes from the television to answer. “How was yours?
“Busy as usual for a Friday,” she smiles, leans over my shoulder to give me a quick hug, before looking at Dad. Shaking her head in amusement she then turns toward me. “I’ll go check on dinner in the oven. The brisket I put in around lunch should be done pretty soon.” Looking once more at her husband, she laughs to herself and leaves us to the game.
“Scored another two points?” his gruff dismay echoing over the announcer’s commentary. He’s just as ticked as I am.
“Unfortunately,” I answer in frustration. “The boys look pissed,” I elaborate when the camera pans across the Astros’ dugout. Dillon’s sight is focused straight ahead on the player at bat, much like the rest of his teammates. He doesn’t like being behind on a good day, but the opposing team is really on their A game.
“Good,” he says, head nodding for emphasis. “No better way to stay motivated.”
I hope he’s right. I need him in a good mood when I talk to them about changing schools.
An hour and a half later has us sitting at the dinner table after the game ends in a loss for our boys. They played a really hard game, simply unable to take over the lead, only to lose by five points. Dillon and Derek played well, but I know they’re not going to see it that way.
“What brings you home this weekend?” Mom asks after we’ve fixed our plates and said the prayer. My stomach’s need for food is pushed aside by nervous churning. Might as well rip off the band-aid and lay it all out there. Waiting isn’t going to make it any easier.
“I wanted to talk to both of you about school, figured this was the easiest way,” I shrug in an attempt to make it appear as if it’s not that big of a deal.
Dad lowers his fork and lifts a brow in concern, Mom’s attention turned to me as well. “Everything alright?”
“Classes are good, my grades are fine. It’s nothing like that.”
“Well, what is it?” she frowns, her utensils resting on her plate like Dad’s.
“I broke up with Tyler.” I release a low breath, relieved to have that weight off my shoulders.
“And?” he questions, his full attention on me. “I know you didn’t come all the way home just to tell us that.” Oh, how right he is.
“I’m in love with Dillon.” Yeah, just rip that band-aid off.
“Montgomery. The one who just walked away from you.” He’s not asking, he knows damn well who I’m talking about.
