Chapter 10 Indie

Chapter 10

Indie

Teal fingernails trace circles on the inside of my knee as the Bandits leave the field in the bottom of the sixth. It feels good in the way that someone scratching your back before bed does, but the spark that it would have sent through my body weeks ago is more on a fizzle now.

Brianna flew in yesterday. In the two weeks since I left, we’ve texted every day, but have only been able to video chat twice. It’s no one’s fault. She’s swamped with her summer classes and I’m scrambling to make connections as fast as I can.

Thanks to the guys, I’ve got meetings set up all week to make introductions and share my ideas with several of the nonprofits I want to work with. But I’ve still got a long way to go, especially with researching grants and alternate funding, to help me from burning through my savings.

As much as I hate to admit it, Dom’s connection with Lara seems promising. After my initial reluctance to reach out, I did some research and found her philanthropic involvement impressive. I could have done without seeing the photos of her and Dom together looking magazine ready in their gala best. Weird jealousy aside, we spoke briefly on the phone and she was helpful, knowledgeable, and well connected—just like he promised—and there’s no question he’ll hold that over my head every chance he gets.

“Are you guys going to come out to Draft with us after the game?” Delilah asks, interrupting my thoughts.

I hadn’t planned on it, but when I glance over at Brianna, her face is lit up at the idea. “Sure, we can come out for a little while.” Honestly, I was hoping we’d have more time together to figure out if we can make this work long-distance, but she’s already flying home tomorrow.

There’s a lull in the conversation as Dom steps up to the plate, his smile never wavering as he gets in his stance. Where the rest of the guys look serious, number four always looks like he’s having the time of his life out there.

Christian Damiano, the pitcher for the Boston Revs, shakes off the sign twice before he gets a signal he likes. The ball is screaming right over the center of the plate and Dom must like what he sees because he swings. The connection cracks through the stadium and sends it right down the first base line, burying it in no-man’s-land by the foul pole.

“Holy shit, he’s fast.” My eyes track Dom as he rounds first before the Rev’s even have their hands on the ball. Kyle Bosco makes the throw to the cutoff and by the time the ball is on its way to Emerson Knight, Dom is sliding into third, somehow managing to get under the throw.

“What the hell are those two cackling about?” Mia gestures toward third base where Emerson and Dom are hunched over laughing.

“Knowing Dom, he’s probably challenging him to race after the game,” Poppy says.

“More like telling him about his lucky thong,” I comment off-handedly. Four sets of eyes swing toward me. Shit. Shit Shit.

If he finds out I said that he will never let me live it down. Our hookup from last summer is the worst kept secret, and up until now, I’ve never admitted to anyone here but Brianna.

“A thong, huh?” Brianna comments tilting her head and squinting her eyes like she might be able to see it through his pants from here .

“Where is the popcorn guy? I need a bucket to bury my face in.” Thankfully, Xavier steps up to the plate providing a distraction.

The rest of the game is uneventful, meaning I manage not to make a fool of myself and the girls have enough tact not to dig for more dirt in front of my girlfriend.

By the time Brianna and I make the short walk to Draft, I need a cold beer and some space from both Brianna and Dom, who have waged some sort of silent war for my attention. She’s always finding a reason to touch me, and Dom is just being Dom.

There is no way he needed to stretch that much before the top of the ninth. That’s not how muscles work. They were plenty limber. He just wanted to make sure I was looking at his ass. Which I wasn’t. Not at all.

My hand is linked through Bri’s as she leads me through the building and out the back where there is a private courtyard that the guys rented for the evening.

“You look like you could use this,” Brianna says, when she returns from grabbing drinks to find me alone at the table. Coming up behind me she rolls the bottle over my heated skin, dragging it over the pulse point in my neck making my nipples pucker under my thin tank.

“Oh god,” I moan quietly, covering my hand with hers and holding the bottle in place. “That feels heavenly.”

My eyes drift shut when her hand lands on the opposite shoulder, curling over it possessively. Seeing this side of her makes me glad I didn’t cut and run the second I decided to move, even if things have been a bit off for the last two weeks. This teasing side she’s letting me see more of is addicting as hell. I wish I had gotten to explore it before I moved.

“Fuck me.” The rough curse from across the patio scraps across my skin. Hearing Dom’s deep voice while Brianna’s soft hands are on me has my blood pumping hot through my veins.

For weeks, months even, that gravelly voice haunted me every time I tried to erase the memory of the way he owned my body. But the way he said my name never faded, as much as I wished it would.

An amused chuckle vibrates against my ear. “You messed him up.”

“Hardly. He’s unflappable. Nothing bothers him and certainly not that he doesn’t get to have me again. Fuckboy 101, thou shall not sleep with the same girl more than once,” I say as he turns and disappears back into the bar, revealing the rest of the guys.

Hendrix has his arm looped over Poppy’s shoulder. Cruz has his wife’s hand clasped tightly in his own. And Dean drops a kiss on Mia’s head before glancing over his shoulder at where Dom went.

“Indie,” Dean greets, dropping onto the bench across from me. “Did you two break him already?” he asks, pulling his girlfriend down next to him.

“Ignore him,” Mia says, swatting at his arm.

“He’s fun to mess with,” Brianna says, taking the seat beside me.

“You’re evil.” I lift a strand of red hair. “Where do you hide the horns? I know for a fact there’s no forked tail back there.”

Dom chooses that moment to come back, setting two pitchers of beer down in the middle of the table, making them splash with how quickly he moves. Without a word, he takes the seat at the furthest end of the picnic table, and Xavier lowers himself to the seat across from Dom, his hands raking through his hair and his eyes never leaving his phone.

“How’d you and Indie meet?” My spine straightens when the question comes from the end of the table. Dom’s eyes settle on my girlfriend.

“I’d like to formally take credit for that,” Mia answers from where she’s encased in Dean’s grip, the two of them leaning against the high-top table next to us.

“You’d what now?” Brianna looks from Mia to me.

“That first night I stopped in the restaurant with Mia, she told me I should get your number,” I offer.

“The two of you were making eyes at each other all night. Like this.” She half turns toward Dean looking up at him like she’s about to drag him back to the hotel.

“Let’s not,” Hendrix groans .

“Don’t even start. Kitchen fucker,” His sister says, shocking the hell out of all of us and making Dean chuckle against her neck.

Hendrix opens his mouth, presumably to defend himself, but Poppy just slaps a hand over it. “You deserved that. Now take it like a man.”

“But you didn’t get my number that night,” Brianna reminds me, pulling my attention back to her from where it strayed to the set of amber eyes that look more troubled than I’ve ever seen them.

“Also my fault,” Mia chimes in again. “Well, actually, Dean’s fault,” she says, tilting her head towards her boyfriend. “She didn’t want to rub it in my face while I was heartbroken over this one.”

“Guilty.” He doesn’t even try to defend himself. Not that he could. The man was a giant asshole to everyone while he got his shit together. In the end, he needed that time to be the man Mia needed.

“I came back the next week for take-out and you gave me your number before I could ask.”

“What was your plan if I hadn’t been working?”

“I guess I would have been eating a lot of Indian food,” I joke.

“Fuck,” Xavier groans at the opposite end of the table, snatching his phone and standing. “Sorry guys. I’ve got to go deal with Kristy.”

“I’m going to make sure he’s okay.” Dom’s lips turn down in a frown and he stands, following Xavier to the alcove near the bathrooms.

“Fucking Kristy,” Hendrix grumbles under his breath.

“Shush.” Poppy nudges him.

“I’m just saying, she’s looking for a meal ticket.”

“Don’t you think you might be a little biased?” Mia asks her brother.

“Biased, or qualified to call it like I see it,” he retorts. “She literally only gives him the time of day when she needs something.”

“She was a lot to handle in Telluride,” I admit. Something about her rubbed me the wrong way, so I kept my distance from her and the house, spending most of the trip either with the girls or out exploring on my own. Although, Kristy’s antics weren’t the only thing keeping me away .

Every time I turned around, there was a reminder that Dom was nearby. His shoes by the door, the crisp scent of his shampoo in the bathroom, the coffee that was ready for me every morning—he was inescapable. So I did what I’ve done since the morning after we slept together, only this time I physically ran as an escape from the tension in the house.

“Everything okay?” Cruz asks when Dom comes back over.

“Not sure. He’s all out of sorts, but he wouldn’t let me leave with him.” He props his elbows up on the table next to Hendrix. His eyes sweep over Brianna, who’s standing behind my tall chair with her arms wrapped around me from behind.

“I’m going to use the bathroom,” she says, dropping a kiss on my neck before she skips away.

Not surprisingly, Dom is by my side before the door to the bathroom has even closed, leaning in close so that I can’t escape the minty smell of eucalyptus that I find undeniably sexy, no matter how much he annoys me. Admittedly, it’s a little harder to be irritated with him than usual after he put in a good word with Lara for me. No matter how terribly I treat him, he just keeps trying—talk about emotional stamina.

“Lara said you called and you two are getting lunch soon. My favorite way to be thanked is f—”

Without thinking, I slap my hand over his mouth, silencing him. Under my palm, his lip spread in a smile before he nips at my hand. I tear it away from his face, shaking it off like it’ll undo the zings of heat through my body.

“Why are you the way you are?” Something inside me begs him to never stop at the same time I will him to shut up. Logically, I know better. He can be playful and kind all he wants, it won’t make a difference.

“Probably the same reason it’s so hard for you to keep your hands to yourself when I’m around.” He smirks.

I snarl back. “That was to stop the never-ending stream of stupidity that comes out of your mouth. Do you save it all for me? Or are you inappropriate with everyone? ”

“I was going to say flattery. Although I’m definitely not opposed to the other ‘F’ word when it comes to you. Someday I’ll convince you I’m not the villain you think I am.” He doesn’t wait for me to respond, changing the topic instead. “You and Bri seem happy. Is she moving out here?” An air of mischief dances around him as he studies me.

“Not that it’s any of your business, but no. She’s in school for another year and a half in Chicago.”

“Hmmm . . . long-distance is hard,” he muses.

I was prepared to fend off an advance or sarcastic remark—maybe an offer to warm my bed in her absence. Not thoughtfulness and so much genuine understanding. It takes me a second to recover.

“Um . . . yeah. We’re working it out. Day by day,” Bri says, saving me when she slips in the space between us. I’d been so wrapped up in fending off Dom that I hadn’t even seen her there.

Her arm comes around my waist, outwardly making it seem like everything is fine, but I don’t like the way she says it like she’s uncertain if it’ll work. I’ve had my doubts, but I thought she was pulling for us. What are we doing if neither of us is fully invested in making this work long-distance?

“We haven’t officially met yet. I’m Dom.”

Sticking his hand out, Brianna takes it, her hand fully encased by his larger one. “Oh, I know who you are.” She looks him up and down with a laugh.

“Excellent.” He tilts his head to the side, looking around Bri to find me, his hand coming to his heart. It’s truly unfair that he can look wholesome as fuck and devilishly handsome at the same time. This is why the man gets whatever he wants. “See, Firecracker, this is the kind of ‘f’ word I was talking about—flattery.”

“You’re assuming that’s a good thing.” Warm laughter floats out of Bri. She’s completely unbothered by this, while I feel like a tennis ball being whacked back and forth. “Indie wasn’t lying. You are a handful.”

“Well, that seems kind of personal to share. But I’m glad you think so. ”

“Oh my god.” I let my head fall forward, pressing against my arms on the table. “Please stop. Why are you even still here? Don’t you have an unsuspecting woman to pick up?”

“Nope. I’ve given up the hoe life.”

“This is really entertaining. I’m glad I came.” Lifting my head I glare at her. “Obviously. I mean because you’re here. But he’s just so . . .” Bri pauses, tapping her finger to her chin.

“Not. Helping,” I bite out, no longer hiding my annoyance as they continue chattering, while I sip my drink, looking on. Outwardly, everything looks fine. Brianna’s physically attentive, but she’s spent more time talking to everyone around the tables than she has to me. The past two weeks apart feel like they’ve created a rift between us. Everything just feels too friendly. That passion I felt for her before the move is fading.

An hour later, I’m dragging Brianna towards the door to wait outside for our Uber home. All of the other couples left about fifteen minutes ago, leaving Dom and a few of the new guys—Braxton and Montana, I think—to themselves. My mind was distracted with trying to come up with an excuse to leave and then feeling guilty because Brianna was clearly still enjoying herself. Maybe I’m a shit girlfriend to fault her for enjoying herself. I just thought that after two weeks apart she’d want to—I don’t know—duck out early and spend time together. Honestly, it’s an exhausting cycle.

“You seem frustrated,” she says when we step out into the dark night.

“I’m trying really hard not to be,” I admit, checking my phone again to see where the driver is. Great, he’s now seven minutes away instead of five. Closing out the screen, I look back to where Brianna is leaning against the brick wall, looking far more collected than I feel.

“These are your friends, right?” she asks, looking down at her fingernails.

“Yes,” I say.

“Why are you so bothered by me making an effort with them? Shouldn’t you want me to get along with them?”

My head pounds and I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Of course I do. This is just harder than I thought—managing long-distance with our schedules. When you said you were coming out here, I’d hoped we would have more time just the two of us. I’d hoped it would be like it was before I left.”

“You’re right, things have changed, and it’s different than I thought it would be. I like you a lot, and I wish things were different, but between school and work, this is all I can give you.”

“I’m not asking for more.”

“What are you asking for?” She pushes off the wall, coming to stand in front of me.

I glance down at my phone. Six more minutes. “I don’t know.”

“It seems like that might be part of the problem. We barely got started and neither of us have prioritized this. You’re about to take on a whole new career, and we aren’t in a place to travel back and forth. It’s okay if this doesn’t work.”

And that’s the soul of it. We aren’t willing to fight for this, and that tells me everything I need to know about what’s next for us. For the first time since we left the stadium, my shoulder inches away from my ears, partially relieved that she’s making this decision for the both of us. “I wanted it to work.”

She shrugs. “You don’t need to say that just to make me feel better.”

“What if I’m saying it so I feel better?”

She steps into me laughing. “What now?”

“Take the Uber back to my place and stay there. I’ll head over to Poppy’s or Mia’s and crash on the couch.”

“No. I can sleep on your couch.”

“Absolutely not. You flew out here to see me. I’m not making you sleep on a shitty couch.” Even though I could sleep in the living room, it feels weird to go back with her.

“Everything okay out here?” Dom’s deep voice asks from the door. When I turn to tell him to butt out, I find him watching us with his eyebrows drawn together in genuine concern.

“It’s fine.” The car pulls up and I grab my keys, twisting the small gold one off and pressing it into Bri’s hand, along with a quick kiss to her cheek. “Please, just do this for me. I’ll go stay with one of the girls.”

She nods, ducking into the car. “Fine. Text me so I know you found a place to stay.”

“I’ll make sure she’s set up,” Dom says, keeping his distance even while inserting himself into the situation.