Page 22

CHAPTER 22

DALLAS

I ’m still sporting a semi as I pull into a parking spot in the garage under the Thunder’s practice center. I’m forced to adjust myself before hopping out of my car, groaning at the ache in my balls.

Emily is so fucking hot. I want to take things slow with her, but I cannot wait to have those pretty lips wrapped around my cock. I hate that she’s been broken down, led to believe that she’s not perfect because—Fuck. Me.—the woman rocks my world. And I will not go down without a fight to prove to her just how amazing, incredible, and perfect she is.

It’s Sunday. No one likes a Sunday practice. And as I walk into the center, the mood is low, but I can’t wipe the smile from my face at the thought of Emily at home right now, possibly soaping up that tight little body of hers, being a good girl and doing what I told her to do. Shit. My cock twitches again. Just to be on the safe side, I force myself to think about something gross, like Rusty’s hairy ass crack again.

“Dude, are you hard ?”

I snap out of my daze, glancing sideways to see Happy right there, his brow quirked, dubious gaze cast downwards .

I shrug, casually adjusting myself again. “Yeah. So what if I am?”

“So weird…” Happy mutters, shaking his head.

I follow him through to the locker room, immediately clocking Robbie standing by his cubby, pulling his Dri-FIT shirt over his head. He meets my eyes, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips, and I try to play it cool, but it’s not easy.

“Dallas has a hard-on,” Happy announces casually as he crosses the room.

The guys all groan, someone cheers, and someone throws a balled-up pair of socks at my head. I roll my eyes, moving to my cubby, and begin the task of disrobing, despite my relentless erection.

“How was the rest of your night?” Robbie asks.

Shoving my sweats down, I pull on a pair of athletic shorts, glancing at him to see that same smirk lingering as he laces his sneakers.

“Good,” is all I say.

“Good,” Robbie echoes, nodding once.

And with one quick glance at each other, that’s that. He knows all he needs to know, and I didn’t have to tell him a damn thing. I swear we were brothers in another life.

I’m due in PT in a few minutes, and I check my phone, which is really just me giving myself an excuse to message Emily.

Me: I know I said I’d call you later, but I couldn’t wait. Is it weird that I miss you already?

Her reply comes through straight away.

Goldie: Yes. Weirdo.

I conceal my grin as best as I can, doing a cursory glance around to make sure I’m not missing anything important.

Me: I wanna take you out.

Goldie: Out??

Me: Like on a date.

Goldie: That sounds risky…

Me: Risky? It’s a date, Goldie. Hardly life threatening.

Goldie: What if someone sees us? You’re a famous athlete. All it takes is for some fan to snap a picture of you and post it online.

Me: You that ashamed to be seen with me, Goldie?

Goldie: Yeah, you don’t even play baseball. How embarrassing

Me: I’m gonna make a hockey fan out of your dad if it’s the last thing I do.

Goldie: Good luck with that. For the record, my middle name is Ruth… as in Babe.

I snort quietly, trying to hide my laughter.

Me: Come on, let me take you out, Babe.

Goldie: I just don’t think it’s a good idea. Not yet at least.

Me: What if I promise you we won’t get photographed?

Goldie: What are you going to do? Wear a disguise?

Me: I’ll wear whatever you want me to wear if you’ll just say yes.

Goldie: Fine… whatever…

I bite back my shit-eating grin.

Me: Now, go be a good girl and do what I told you to do.

Goldie: Maybe I already did…

I groan, my cock stirring back to life. Resting my head against the shelf on my cubby, I bang it a few times to rid myself of the beautiful, filthy images flashing through my mind.

Me: Goldie, you are killing me right now.

Goldie:

Ten minutes later, my hard on is long gone as Jace gives me hell, working my groin like a man possessed. I swear the guy is a masochist. He’s gay. Happily married, with two cute kids. But I think he gets off the more pain he inflicts on us. Me especially.

“Jesus, fuck,” I hiss under my breath.

“Sorry, Tex,” he says completely unapologetically.

My phone buzzes with a call, and I can only hope it’s not Emily, because if my dick gets hard right now, Jace’s likely to rip the damn thing clean off.

I look at the screen to see it’s not Emily calling. But my disappointment is fleeting because it’s almost as good.

“Hey, Momma,” I answer, wincing through the pain.

“Hi, baby!” Momma exclaims, the smile in her voice contagious.

“I’m getting murdered on the PT table right now, so if you hear me groan, I’m not having sex, I promise.”

“Oh, Dallas,” she chastises playfully. “How’s the injury, baby?”

“I’m fine,” I dismiss her concern. “I’ll be back in the crease tomorrow night.”

“Not if you don’t rest like you promised McManus you would,” Jace mutters, offering me a warning arch of one of his brows. “Don’t think I can’t tell.”

I flash him a guilty smile and he rolls his eyes.

“You’re still coming home for Christmas?” Momma asks, just like she’s asked every single time we’ve spoken on the phone over the last few weeks.

“Yes, ma’am. I’m flying out the day before Christmas Eve.”

“Oh, I’m so happy,” she cries. “It’s been too long since you’ve had Christmas here with us at home.”

It’s only been two years. But my mother loves Christmas.

“Guess who’s going to be in town this year?” The tone of her voice causes my hackles to rise. I know that tone.

“Who?”

“Elizabeth Saunders,” she says as if it’s a no-brainer, and immediately my blood runs cold. “And she is so excited to see you…”

Fuck. Me.

I swear my mother will not be happy until I finally give in. Momma and Elizabeth’s momma, Lotty Saunders, have been best friends since they were teenagers. Elizabeth is a year younger than me. And it seems, ever since we were babies, our moms have been conspiring to marry us off together. The problem is, I just don’t like Elizabeth like that. I mean, sure she’s cute and fun and nice and all that. But she was never my type. I know she had a crush on me growing up, but I didn’t see her as more than a friend. I feel bad for saying so, but she’s just not my kind of girl.

“Actually, Momma,” I say, clearing my throat, “I’m kind of… seeing someone. ”

The second the words are out my mouth, I regret them. It’s not a total lie, but it sure as shit ain’t the honest to God truth.

“Dallas Shaw, don’t you lie to your momma,” she warns. And I can’t blame her. She’s been on my back for the best part of the last few years, begging me to quit all the fooling around, hoping I’d meet someone special and settle down.

“I ain’t lyin’, Momma.” I grit my teeth, ignoring Jace’s curious gaze on me as I continue, “She’s real nice. You’re gonna love her.”

“Well now, you better tell me all about her,” Momma demands, and I can tell by the smile in her tone she’s already picking out grandbaby names. “Will she be coming home with you at Christmas?”

I balk at the thought. “It’s way too soon for that.”

And suddenly, I’m the one thinking too much. Not about baby names, of course. But I imagine taking Emily home for Christmas, showing her the ranch, where I grew up, introducing her to my old friends, taking her to the Saddlery for a Pbr even though I know she doesn’t like beer. I don’t miss the way my heart stammers in my chest at the thought.

“Well, I will be sure to let Lotty know you’re no longer on the market,” Momma says. “Elizabeth will be so disappointed.”

“Aw, she’s a nice gal, Momma,” I placate. “I’m sure she’ll meet the perfect fella one of these days.”

“We’re all done, Tex.” Jace slaps my thigh and turns away to wash his hands.

“Momma, I gotta go,” I say, sitting up with a groan. “I’ve got dryland.”

We say our goodbyes, and I carefully hop down off the therapy table, stretching my back. But as I turn, ready to head out and into the gym, I spot Jace’s curious gaze on me.

“What’s up?”

He smirks, quirking a brow. “Has the Dallas Shaw finally decided to settle down?”

Shit. Pushing my hair back from my forehead, I decide to play it off with a casual shrug and a laugh. “Sometimes you just gotta tell your momma what she wants to hear…”

Jace narrows one eye, and I’m not sure if he believes me, but before he can grill me anymore, I turn and hurry out of the therapy room. Endless squats and lateral lunges with a bad groin will be much less excruciating than actually having to explain myself.