SWINGING STRIKE: Cessna U Wildcats Book One

by Readnour, Kimberly

  He glances at my touch, and I know the exact moment he concedes. “I’ll ask them when I get there. What hall are you in and room number?”

  I rattle off the details and promise to text it to him so he won’t forget it. His gaze drops to my lips, and I can’t help but notice his chest rises and falls at the same pace as mine.

  Interesting.

  He may be angry with me, but he’s turned on. I can tell. My mind races to what type of kisser he’d be. Would he be strong? Passionate? As much confidence as he exudes, I bet he’s great between the sheets, attentive to every need and want. As if he can read my thoughts, he blinks and backs away. And that newly constructed wall shields his eyes again.

  “Tell your new boyfriend I said hi.” He stalks off.

  My jaw drops as my mind processes what he said. Boyfriend? Instead of denying it, I just stand there perplexed and watch his legs carry him away.

  Holy shit. Is he…jealous?

  Chapter Sixteen

  CARA

  A whirlwind disguised as L.A.’s best bedding and fashion boutiques whips through my dorm. I take in the onslaught of shopping bags left in its wake and bite back a laugh. Is it really a bad thing to be attacked by Chanel? I think not. When I suggested Shannon move in with me, I never expected her to bring so much stuff. The girl can out shop any of the Real Housewives of New Jersey.

  Shannon and her mom breeze back into the room and unload the last of the haul on her unmade bed. The designer bedding lays next to my feet. As for me? I’m rooted to my mattress, staying far out of their way.

  “That’s the last of it.” Shannon’s mom huffs out a breath and scans the haul that severely damaged their pocketbook. “You should be all set, dear.”

  “Thanks, Mom, for making the trip down here. I really appreciate everything you bought me.” Shannon leans over to kiss her mom’s cheek. Mrs. Smith could easily pass as an older sister. The laugh lines dusting the corners of her eyes gives her true age away. Otherwise, she’s an exact replica. It’s easy to see where Shannon and Braxton get their blond hair and blue eyes from.

  People say I’m Mom’s mini-me. But looks is where our similarities end. Where she’s a strong, stubborn woman, I live for more flair. That’s everyone else’s impression of me anyway. A pang of longing grips my chest. I miss her. Or miss what we should have. Yes, we have our differences—the constrictive hold on me drives me crazy—but deep down, I know she behaves that way because she cares. Her concern has never been more evident than when I called after the fire.

  “Are you sure you don’t need me to help put anything away?” Mrs. Smith asks.

  “No, I want to organize it all myself.” Tears well in Shannon’s eyes as she inspects her new belongings. “I can’t believe I lost everything.”

  “Aw, sweetie.” She swoops over to her daughter and pulls her into an embrace. “It’s no problem for me to stay. I can cancel the plans with the Millers.”

  Shannon hugs her tighter, and I blink my own tears away as I shift my focus to my closet. They need their moment, which I hate intruding on. I compare the contents in my closet to the bags littering the floor. If I lost all of this, the only thing I’d miss is my peep-toe ankle boots. My one indulgence that set my brother back some serious cash. The style is a far cry from my usual Vans, but they’re so pretty. They’re trivial in comparison to losing all the memorabilia. Memories are irreplaceable.

  “No, you go ahead and go. I’ll be okay.” Shannon sniffs.

  “I’m going to be late as it is anyway. If it makes it easier—”

  “I’m fine, Mom. Really.”

  “If you say so. Now, remember, your father will be here soon to check on you. He felt bad he couldn’t get out of his meeting.” Mrs. Smith turns to me. “It was nice meeting you, Cara. Thanks for opening your room up to us. Braxton said you were kind enough to offer it.”

  My body tenses from the mention of Braxton’s name. His standoffish attitude yesterday still hasn’t resonated well with me. I force a smile. “It was nice meeting you, too.”

  I don’t address the latter part. I didn’t do anything special to warrant her thanks. Housing would’ve assigned someone to me, and by the way things look, Shannon’s doing me a favor by being here.

  “Okay, Mom. You better go. The drive’s pretty long, and you don’t want to be too late for your plans.”

  “All right, I get the hint.” Mrs. Smith kisses Shannon on her forehead. “Call me if you need anything else.”

  When she leaves, Shannon turns toward me. “Sorry, she can be a bit overwhelming sometimes.”

  “Uh, you haven’t met my mother. When it comes to smothering, my mom takes the prize.”

  “A bit overprotective?”

  “You can say that.”

  “I get that with my brother. He’s only a couple years older, but you would think he’s my dad.” She shakes her head. “He’s been like this my entire life. He actually threatened his teammate when I went to stay with him. Who does that?”

  “Yeah, brothers can be that way.” I don’t elaborate or mention AJ’s name. Keeping his name under wraps is still top priority. The mission doubles down for girls with brothers named Modern-day Babe Ruth. I doubt Shannon is a fangirl type, but I’m not taking any chances.

  “I won’t have long to deal with him though. I’m sure he’ll be drafted this spring.”

  Sadness creeps back into her eyes despite her upbeat tone. She pulls out a stack of photos from an envelope and shuffles through them until landing on a particular one. “I’m not sure who’ll be left playing after this year. They have a great team. I’m sure most of the guys in Braxton’s house will be drafted.”

  Her voice drifts off as she stares intently at the photo. I’m not sure what that’s about, but the uncomfortable feeling arises again. The last impression I want to make is a nosy roommate, so I stand, wagging my finger over the packages. “What can I do to help? We can tackle most of this before lunch.”

  “Let’s start with hanging up my clothes.” She dives into the first sack and pulls out a neatly stacked pile of clothes. The fresh scent wafts through the air.

  “You’ve already washed everything?”

  “Yeah. Mom came first thing yesterday morning. She left at crazy hour a.m. and drove straight here. Thank God, they canceled school. We shopped all day and worked on laundry all evening washing. At least, Braxton’s housing complex has washing machines, but what a way to spend a Friday night—hanging with your mom and doing laundry.”

  “Does he live off campus?” As the words leave my mouth, I bite the inside of my cheek. Heat inches along my neck and up my face. Of all questions to ask, that shouldn’t have been it. The side-eye glance she gives me makes me want to crawl inside one of the designer bags.

  “No,” she answers, slowly. “He lives in jock housing on the north side of campus with three other teammates.”

  “Oh.” I would’ve known this had I asked AJ about his housing arrangements when he attended here. Back then, Mom and I couldn’t afford to visit. I never thought about it at the time, but I should’ve made it a point to attend his graduation. I’m sure we could’ve scraped up some money somewhere.

  “Oh my gosh. You’ll never believe what those guys did.” Her eyes widen as her voice pitches higher. She snatches the hanger from my hand and drapes her shirt over it all in the same breath. “They’ve adopted the cutest dog ever. He looks similar to a golden retriever, but he isn’t pure. So sweet, though. They named him Miller.”

  “They’re allowed to have a dog?” I cross my arms over my chest and then quickly untangle them. Jealousy was never my best feature, but damn it. My asshole father wouldn’t allow us to have pets, and I’ve wanted one my whole life. After Dad left, we could barely afford to feed ourselves let alone an animal. So, yeah, I may be a little jealous.

  “Uh, no.” Her gaze drops as she fidgets with the clothing in her hands. “Please don’t tell anyone. But the idiots think they can get away with it by calling him thei
r mascot. I doubt anyone will rat them out, though. Heck, even if they got caught, I’d swear the higher-ups would turn a blind eye. Nobody’s going to touch the golden boys.”

  “I take it he’s a stray?”

  “Yeah, it’s sad because he’s so skinny. It’s obvious no one took care of him. Noah, that’s my brother’s best friend and the team’s catcher, went and bought some dog food for him. They’ll have him back in shape before too long.”

  “Good. It kills me when animals are mistreated,” I say.

  “Right! How can anyone harm the furry creatures? They’re so adorable.”

  “Agreed. Could be why my ultimate goal is to become a veterinarian.”

  “That’s great. You must be really smart.”

  I smile softly. For the first time in my life, the person staring back at me has no preconceived ideas about me. A clean slate. Exactly what I’ve been striving for. Admittedly, it feels nice. “It takes a lot of hard work on my end, but I get by.”

  “I’m a fashion major.” She holds up the silk top by some designer I’ve never heard of. “Can you tell?”

  “My brother’s girlfriend is working on her art and business degree. CU has a top-of-the-line art department, according to her.”

  “They do. That’s part of the reason I wanted to attend here. The only thing I don’t like is their math requirement. Three semesters worth is overkill. Next year that will sink me. Algebra and I aren’t friends.”

  “If you need help, let me know.”

  “I may have to take you up on that.”

  We continue to hang up her clothes, and it doesn’t take long before I realize I was being optimistic. There isn’t any way we’ll wrap this up before noon. Shannon and her mom went overboard with the shopping, but I really like her. She’s down to earth and seems mature for being a freshman. I think we’ll get along just fine despite her relation to a certain pain in the ass.

  “Can you grab the stuff from that bag next?” Shannon asks, pointing at the bag nearest to the door. She pulls a stack of hangers out from the tote beside her. How many more piles does she have? Her closet is going to explode.

  “Sure, let me just stretch my lower back before I tackle another stack.” With my back toward the door, I bend over and touch my toes.

  “Interesting display,” a deep, masculine voice says from behind. He’s so close I feel his vibrations shimmy up my spine. Or maybe it’s from his presence.

  I immediately straighten and bite back my embarrassment. Trying to forget about my ass being hiked in the air, I turn to face eyes as bright as the cloudless sky.

  Chapter Seventeen

  BRAXTON

  Holy shit, there is a God. Any lingering questions about the shape of Cara’s body have now been answered. She’s even more tight and fit than I first realized. Black spandex stretching across her narrow hips and exposing the curves of her ass while hiked in the air is a picture of pure bliss. Any resolutions of acting like a good boy just fly out the window as I stand here with half of a chub. It’s a good thing I’m holding two Styrofoam cups because getting arrested for being handsy isn’t what I want on my record.

  Those deep brown eyes hold a bit of embarrassment as if she could read my thoughts. But I know that’s not the case. No way. If she read my mind and learned all the ways I want to tap that sweet ass, that blush creeping up her cheeks would morph into nostrils flaring and a tightened expression.

  Yep, less than forty-eight hours is all it took for me to break my resolve to stay away. I’m officially pathetic.

  “How are you and Pole Girl getting along?” I direct my question to Shannon but never let my attention stray from Cara. The slight flare at the mention of her nickname doesn’t go unnoticed, but the usual hardness in her eyes stays at bay. Hmm, progress.

  “Pole Girl?” Shannon laughs when I hand over her coffee. “You gave her a stripper nickname?”

  Ah, shit. Shannon’s going to read too much into that. I don’t give people nicknames unless I like them. In my defense, I did like her when we first met.

  I glance over at Cara. Her hands, balled into fists, rest on those hips that are once again hidden by her extra baggy T-shirt. Does the girl own anything sexy? I can’t understand why she wants to hide her body. I must stare a little too long because there it is—the hardness to her expression I’ve missed.

  “See, another person thinks that’s a stripper’s name.”

  “And I keep waiting for the private show.” Despite the murderous glare she gives me, the image of her twirling around the makeshift stripper poles for my personal viewing won’t go away. Jesus, I need to redirect my thoughts.

  “Cold day in hell, Smith.”

  “Hmm,” Shannon murmurs with a smirk. “Someone who resists my brother’s bullshit. I think we’re going to get along great.”

  I ignore Shannon’s chide and hand Cara her drink. “Here, I got you a tea. Blueberry with two shots of cream, right?”

  “Yeah, uh, thanks.” She stands there for a moment, mouth slightly parted, shaking her head. It’s as if she’s clearing away all the hardness, all the contemptment, she reserves for me.

  “See, I’m not so bad.” Contrary to what she thinks of me, I do pay attention. She doesn’t answer and reaches for the cup. When our fingers glide across each other’s, my gaze flicks back to hers. The touch is quick, but the same weird vibe between us lingers, refusing to let go of its hold over me. I don’t understand why I always want more with her. Either this girl is getting under my skin or I’m more in need of sex than I thought. Crossing my arms over my chest, I find my voice. “Thought I’d make it up to you for being a prick yesterday.”

  “Thanks.” Her normally strong voice softens as a blush coats her cheeks. She takes a sip, averting her gaze. Vulnerability is cute on her. I want to call her out because I love getting her riled, but I let her off the hook. I’m trying to make amends for yesterday’s behavior, after all.

  “Mom make it out of here?” I direct the question to Shannon and wince, noticing for the first time the blue walls. I love this school, but whoever is in charge of the color scheme has an Easter color fetish.

  “Yeah, she sends her love.”

  “Sorry I couldn’t be here sooner to help. Coach wanted to do a few extra practice drills, but it looks like you have everything under control.” I follow Cara as she heads over to her bed. When the mattress dips below her, I try not to image her sprawled out waiting for me, but my mind can only stay G-rated for so long. I barely pay attention to Shannon as she talks.

  “That’s fine. We managed, but I think Mom was getting winded. It helped placing everything back into the bags.” Shannon clears her throat and snaps me from my daze. Her eyebrows lift when our gazes meet, and I know what she’s thinking. Keep your hands off my roomie. But technically, I saw Cara first. Not that she’s a toy or anything. I shake my head. I really need to pull myself together.

  “She said Dad was coming in a week or two.”

  Well, that’s enough for me to snap back to reality. The last thing I want is Dad watching practices. “She didn’t pinpoint a date?”

  “Nope.” Shannon pops her “P,” sounding about as thrilled as I feel. Although I have no idea why. His expectations for her are far less than for me. I’m the son who’ll fulfill his dream.

  “He won’t stay long. He never does.” His work schedule always calls him away.

  “I just don’t want him harping on me about my grades.”

  “It’s way too early in the semester for that.” When she pins me with a look, I switch subjects. “I see you traded the Pepto-pink walls for robin eggs.”

  She glances around the room and heaves a sigh. “You’re right. The color choices leave a lot to be desired. Who picks these colors? Some eighty-year-old guy?”

  Cara laughs. “They are pretty bad.”

  “You should’ve seen her old room. The pink was hideous.” I immediately wish I hadn’t brought attention to her old dorm. Shannon’s safe, but she did lose
items important to her. I look around the room at the empty bags and ones left to put away. “Did the entire Bloomingdale’s juniors department make it here?” Seriously, I don’t think the girl could stuff any more clothes into that tiny space.

  “Ha, ha.”

  “I’m pretty sure you ended up with more clothes than you started with.”

  “Hush your mouth. You know how practical Mom is, most of the time.” She flashes me a half-grin. “I may have played the sympathy card to get a few more items.”

  “Only you, sis.” I chuckle. I’m glad she’s not devastated by this. Losing your possessions is never easy. The only thing she snagged was her backpack, which luckily had her laptop and a few textbooks. That’s it. All her memorabilia are gone, including the pictures she brought with her and the stupid stuffed unicorn. “Seriously though, what do you need me to do?”

  “We’ve gotten everything in order.” Sadness coats her eyes as she eyes the rest of her stuff. Okay, so maybe she’s not totally unscathed.

  “I’m sorry this happened to you, sis.” It kills me to see her this upset and to know there wasn’t anything I could’ve done to prevent it.

  “Thanks, Gee-Gee. I did manage to get the photos reprinted, but I hate losing Uni.”

  “Yeah, I know that meant something to you.” I just don’t understand why, but I keep that to myself. As Shannon places the sheets on her bed, my gaze wanders to Cara. She’s absolutely gorgeous sitting there with her long legs crossed and her hair hanging down in loose curls. She holds the tea in one hand while typing on her phone with the other. Frowning, I try to ignore the burning sensation in my chest, but I can’t help but wonder if she’s texting pencil dick. And if she is, why do I have a sudden urge to yank the phone away? Damn, I’m acting like a jealous schoolboy.

  I can’t let my emotions overrun me like they did yesterday. Ignoring her in lab was stupid. I let him get the upper hand. No matter how pissed I was at seeing Tryce’s hands paw her, it doesn’t excuse my behavior. I don’t know what came over me. Not only do I not have the right to get mad, but I’ve never backed down from a challenge. This is just like any other situation where I need to step up to the plate.