Page 8 of 3rd and 4 (Season of Change #3)

“Daya!” I smile, turning around before I enter the locker room, to greet Lilly Geddes, who handles PR for the athletics department at the university.

“Hi, Miss Geddes!”

She rolls her eyes, her blonde hair pulled back from her face, and an admonishing smile.

She’s taller than me, her and everyone else, and beautiful.

Open, kind, and passionate. Her face is…

welcoming. Not sure how else to describe her, she’s just someone that you instantly feel comfortable around.

“Lilly. Don’t make me tell you again, missy. ”

I chuckle lightly, using my small towel to wipe the sweat from my forehead and the back of my neck.

We just finished our first game of the season.

We lost, but I don’t even care, it was epic.

The most fun I’ve ever had cheering. The energy was unbelievable and so intense compared to high school.

Addy and I were flawless, the crowd went nuts when I did a complicated tumbling pass into Addy’s waiting hands.

He threw me up in the air, I flipped, and he caught me.

My heart beat right out of my chest and I laughed like a loon while the crowd tried their level best to deafen us. I trust Addy completely.

And not just because he’s my boyfriend . Ahh! I love saying that, thinking it, hearing it. Especially from his lips I desperately want to kiss. He’s steady and solid on that field and it translates into incredible magic between the two of us. I had goosebumps almost the entire game.

“Lilly,” I correct, my chest heaving as I’m still fighting to catch my breath. “What can I do for you?”

“I’d like for you to meet up with Edith Shingleton this week for a photoshoot.

” My brows rise, not expecting that at all.

“I want pics of you in a controlled environment doing your thing.” She grins with a wink.

“And a few with the Mic-Man himself. Do you need me to call Addy, or do you think you can manage to get a hold of him?” I drop my eyes as I feel my entire face heat with a flush.

“Y-yeah. I can manage.” She laughs lightly.

“Edee will have gotten some good shots today during the game, but I want something a little more artistic and eye-catching.”

“Ok. Uh…why me?”

Her expression shifts slightly, a sadness as she looks me in the eye. “Daya, you are truly talented. And you and Addy together on that field…explosive! You are the new face of the athletic department.”

“Oh! No! I can’t do that. I’m only a freshman—”

“Believe me, you will attract donors, and prospective students like a bee to honey. It’s not just my opinion, Jenna’s the one who made the suggestion.” I don’t know how to react. I’m shocked. Worried. Nervous.

“But what if I fail? What if—”

“You let me worry about the what-ifs. It’s my job, Daya, I know what I’m doing.

” Her confidence is contagious. So much so that I whoop and jump to give Eva a high-five on her way out of the locker room a couple minutes later.

My body is buzzing with excitement. Anticipation coursing through my veins.

In the nearly empty locker room, I grab my towel wrap, strip off my clothes and pad into the showers with my shower caddy.

My body tingles as I wash off the sweat and grime from the game.

My clit pulses when my thoughts turn to Addy.

Elijah Addelsbach is amazing. I smile thinking of how his eyes lit up when he caught me, how his gaze lingered on my lips as if he was fighting the same urge to fuse our mouths together in the middle of the packed stadium.

I want to kiss him. I want him to devour me.

He’s been patient, courting me like it’s the 1800s.

We’ve done nothing more than hold hands outside of our practices. And even that felt foreign and naughty.

I don’t get out much. I’m so lame. I want to kiss him. I’m going to kiss him. With that resolved, I turn off the water, dry off and walk back through the locker room in my shower shoes.

I lift my hand to my locker and stop. It’s open.

And empty. WHY is it empty? I glance around, my movements jerky and frantic the longer I go without spotting my clothes, or bag, or anything more than this stupid towel wrap to cover myself.

Nothing. The empty locker room mocks me as I fight not to cry.

I don’t have my phone since it was in my bag.

No ID either and I don’t know how I’ll get into my dorm without identification or clothing. I refuse to cry. I’ll figure this out.

Deep breath. Exhale. Deep breath.

I tighten the wrap around my body and peek my head out of the doors. The hallway is empty.

“Hello?”

“Daya!” It’s Addy, he’s waiting for me. Normally, I would smile and swoon at how sweet he is, but I’m too relieved and too scared to focus on that. He’s here, which is great, but he’s also here, which means he’ll see me at my worst, with only a towel to protect me.

“Don’t come any closer!” I shout when I hear his footsteps on the floor. “Can you um…”

“Daya? What’s wrong?” His concern is palpable as it mixes with my own.

“My stuff…is gone.” There’s a long pause.

“What do you mean?” His voice slowly grows louder as he approaches the corner.

“STOP!” I yell, panicking. “Please.” I squeak out in a quieter tone, but no less desperate.

“Ok, Itty Bitty, not another step.” I see his shadow on the opposite wall and strangely, it comforts me a little. I’m not doing this alone.

With a sigh, I explain, “Someone took my bag, my locker is empty. I don’t have my phone, keys, ID, or a change of clothes.”

He growls, and I smile at the protective sound. “I do, let me throw my bag down the hall to you, you can wear mine.”

I frown. “They won’t fit.” I wince at the whine in my tone.

Addy exhales loudly, then tells me through what sounds like gritted teeth, “Daya, now isn’t the time to be concerned with proper fit and fashion.”

“I know that!” I snap, embarrassed to be called out for being ridiculous. “Sorry.”

“Once you’re dressed, we’ll sort it out. I promise.”

I don’t have a choice, and his solution is the best I’ve got right now.

“Thank you.” A few seconds later, I’m bending awkwardly, grabbing the straps of his gym bag and dragging it into the locker room.

I unzip the main compartment and turn my head to the side.

Holy cow, it stinks. Boys smell. I rifle through and find a clean change of clothes, basketball shorts and tee.

They are way too big, and I have to hold the pants up by hand, but I manage to cover all the important bits.

Still wearing my shower shoes, I step into the hallway. “Ok.”

Addy comes around the corner, like a man on a mission. He’s angry, jaw clenched, nostrils flaring, but his eyes soften when he sees me. He runs his gaze up and down my body and grins. “Love seeing you in my clothes.”

I snort. “They are like 10 sizes too big.”

He blinks several times, his brows arching in disbelief. “Did you just call me fat?”

“What? No! You’re tall.”

He rolls his eyes with a muttered, “Uh-huh,” then opens his arms. Clutching the shorts, I rush into his waiting embrace.

He hugs me tight, rocking me back and forth, whispering soothing words to me while I cry softly.

Something about him, his scent, his strength, I feel safe to give in to tears.

“I’m sorry, baby. It’ll be fine. We’ll sort it out and get you squared away.

I’m here, I’m not going to leave you alone to deal with this.

” Sniffling, I tilt my head back when I’m done crying.

He smiles down at me, running his thumbs under my eyes to wipe away the tears.

I must look a wreck, but he doesn’t seem to care.

“Will you…will you kiss me?” His eyes flare with something unfamiliar but intoxicating.

“You sure?”

I nod. “This sucks and I want something to make it better.” I know with absolute certainty that being kissed by Elijah Addelsbach is the cure to all that ails me.

He stares at my lips for a few seconds, then says, “As you wish.” Slowly, Addy lowers his head, lightly pressing his lips to mine, and I suck in a breath as something electric travels from my lips to my nipples and straight to my clit.

He hums, licking my lips before dipping his tongue into my mouth.

I try to follow his lead; but I have no idea what I’m doing.

French kissing always seemed weird to me.

Who wants to swap spit? I do, I guess. But only with Addy.

He softens and pulls back enough to whisper, “Like this…”, sliding his tongue between my lips and stroking my tongue.

He guides me until I’m against the wall, his body caging me in, surrounding me, making me feel safe again. “Let’s go find your things.”

I nod, unable to form words, my lips still buzzing from the kiss.

He holds my hand and guides me through the complex, my other hand on the shorts.

“Brody?” He calls out when we near a security guard near the entrance.

A big, imposing man lifts his head and smiles at us until he sees what I’m wearing.

“Addy? What’s going on, man?”

“My girl here had her stuff stolen out of her locker in the women’s cheer locker room.” Brody turns to me and holds out his hand.

“Brody Zeigler. Head of security.”

“Daya Moul. Head of…missing clothes.” I stumble over the joke, but they both chuckle anyway.

I run through what happened, which isn’t much.

I showered, when I got out all my things were gone out of my locker.

Brody writes up a report, takes my contact information and double checks Addy’s, then says he’ll look into it and get back to us.

We thank him and start walking toward my dorm.

“He’ll have to review footage, but there aren’t any cameras in the locker rooms or showers.” That’s good to know. “Brody’s a good guy; he’ll do what he can to help you.”

“Thank you.” I whisper into the night, clutching his hand tight as we cross the campus. He squeezes my hand, and we walk in comfortable silence for a couple blocks. “You think I can convince the desk clerk at my dorm to let me into the building and unlock my dorm room?”

“They’ll probably recognize you, but they should have a back up system in place for lost or stolen key cards.”

“You didn’t live in the dorms?” I ask, glancing up at him, admiring his strong profile. He’s just as solid and steady off the field as he is on it.

“I did, but they changed the ID and key card system after I’d moved out my sophomore year. I’ve lived in campus apartments since. I didn’t enjoy sharing a bathroom with 15 other people.” His face screws up in distaste making me laugh.

“My roommate and I have a private bathroom—” I stop talking. My feet stop moving. Addy pulls me a few steps before realizing I’ve stopped.

“Daya?” I lift a shaky finger and point at the lamppost to the right of the dorm building entrance displaying my bra and underwear.

My tiny, useless bra, flapping in the breeze.

With a picture of me taped above it. I swallow down the bile that rises rapidly up my throat.

I want to puke. Embarrassment like I’ve never experienced muffles my hearing and blurs my vision.

You remember that picture of Beyonce during a concert, where she looks like she’s gone beast-mode…

This is worse.