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The next morning I wake up early to meet Shawn and Matt at the track. I feel like I’m barely awake when I take the winding road down to Rockport, mostly because I stayed up last night replaying what happened between Alec and I in the pool. I’ve never felt like that with someone else before. Like I needed them. It was intense. Not an overall bad feeling, it was fucking hot, but at the same time, it’s worrisome. What happens if he decides to pull away and act like a Baller again?
When I take a right to park near the track, Sloan’s Jeep is parked just in front of me. I get out and when I see he’s in the front seat, I march right up to him. “What are you doing here?”
“I heard you making plans with them, so I wanted to stop by.”
“It’s seven in the morning, Sloan.” No high schooler gets up this early to train if they can help it.
I shake my head and try to walk away, but he reaches out his window and grabs my shoulder. “Please, Tessa.” It’s only the rawness in his voice that makes me turn around. I can see the bags under his eyes then, his trembling fingers even though when he notices that I see it, he hides them on the other side of the door. “I wanted to apologize for yesterday. I didn’t mean to push you.”
How the world has turned… Isn’t that what the Ballers are about? Pushing people? Instead of saying all that, I place my hand on the door of the Jeep and look Sloan over. “You didn’t get any sleep, did you?” I reach up, my fingers touching the area below his eyes. Such dark, dark circles. “What happened?”
He looks away and puts on a pair of sunglasses that are in his hands. “Nothing.”
I look into my reflection from his sunglasses. “Don’t do that,” I say. Sloan probably knows more real things about me than anyone else at the moment. I don’t want to go back to hiding. “Are you okay? Is it your parents?”
He nods once. “It’s no big deal though.”
“What are you even doing here then? Go home. Get some sleep.”
His jaw hardens. “Do you think it ever stops?” He throws the Jeep door open, and I have to take a step back. “Come on. Let’s whip Matt into shape.” He slams the door behind him and walks off.
His shoulders are high, muscles tight. He’ll be in a mood all day, and we’ll all suffer for it. Shawn and Matt eye us when we come forward. Sloan stops short, crossing his arms in front of his chest, a scowl on his handsome face.
I skirt around him. “I usually run a slow mile to warm up,” I explain to the guys, feeling the heat of Sloan’s gaze on all of us. Then, I unzip my jacket until I’m standing there in a tight racerback tee.
Shawn and Matt have already taken off running. Before I can even go after them, Sloan’s hand moves around my waist, bringing me back to him. “I shouldn’t let you wear this.” His hand slides over my skin, dipping just below the waistband of my capris. “Not in front of them.”
My head drops back at his touch. I’m caught between telling him I can wear whatever I want and liking the way his words make me feel. He doesn’t want anyone else to look.
He kisses my neck. I try to turn in his grip, but he says, “You better catch up with them, Dale.” He removes his hand, letting me stand there reeling.
Shawn and Matt are already halfway done with the lap, so I run to catch up with them. At least it will give me something for my hands and feet to do instead of walking right back up to Sloan and showing him what his hand could do to me if he wanted.But why would I do that?I chastise myself.
It turns out, my slow mile is Matt’s all-out. I’m getting worried for him. I don’t know if he’ll be able to hack it. He’s got the skills but having talent has very little to do it if you can’t even get down the court to show them off. That shit might have worked in middle school, but not here.
At the end of our sprints, the three of us collapse to the ground. We have just enough time to head into the showers before the bell. “Alright, let’s go,” Sloan says. He’s been standing there watching us this whole time, making it seem like this was a Baller-sanctioned recruit setup even though it wasn’t. Despite all that, I do feel bad for him. A few people have started to cross the grounds to get to the school. Some guys who walk notice Sloan and come up to talk to him. I grab my things and fold my jacket over my arm. I’m too hot right now to put this on. I’m dying. A shower—even a gym shower—sounds great right about now.
“Hey, Tessa.” I look over my shoulder to find Shawn running toward me. He runs a hand through his sweat-drenched hair. “So, I was wondering if maybe I can, um…” He takes a deep breath. “Sorry. I’m just wondering if I can take you out sometime.”
Behind us, I hear someone ask, “Is that Tessa Dale? Damn.”
A quick glance behind me shows Sloan glaring at Shawn and me. Whoever he’s talking to is eyeing me up and down.
“I mean, I don’t know if there’s something going on with you and Alec or you and Sloan even, it’s just…” He shrugs. “I just had to ask.”
I turn toward him, a small smile on my face. I feel gross, to be honest. It’s sweet that he still asked me this even when I’m sure I look like a hot, sweaty mess.
“Fuck you,” I hear Sloan say. When I look back, I find him walking toward us. He’s scowling. “Get a move on, Shawn.”
Shawn’s eyes dart to Sloan. He goes to turn, but I hold back on his arm. I haven’t even answered his question yet. “I’m sorry, Shawn. That’s so sweet of you, but—”
Hands settle on Shawn’s chest and push. The freshman center stumbles until he falls flat on his ass. “What the fuck, Loggins?” Sloan shouts. “Keep your hands to yourself.”
“Sloan,” I gasp, mouth wide open looking from him to Shawn. Shawn scrambles to his feet. He’s furious, but he’s not dumb. He’s not going to mess with a Baller. “I’m sorry,” I call out after him. He shakes his head and turns, walking away from us.
“What did he want?” Sloan asks. He’s still coiled up tight, one foot facing Shawn like he could chase after him at any moment.
I turn to look at him, my temper flaring. “If you don’t know, why did you even do that?”