9. The Ladygasm

NINE

THE LADYGASM

Dessa

I lunge past Garrett, shoving him out of the way, and toward the door. My fingertips brush against the doorknob as it clicks shut. "No! No! No! Dammit!" I grip the cold doorknob and jiggle and tug, but it doesn't open. "Why'd you do that?!"

"W-what did I do?" His voice is frantic as he scans the room.

I continue yanking on the doorknob. "You kicked the piece of wood from under the door!"

His head swivels from side to side, searching for the piece of wood. "I didn't mean to. Perhaps someone shouldn't keep a piece of wood on the floor."

I throw my hands up in frustration. "It was propping the door open because it's broken, and once it's closed, it can't be opened from the inside." I yank on the door again to no avail. Talking to Garrett was the last thing I wanted to do today, and being trapped in a room with him is even worse.

His face goes stoic. "Oh, shit."

"Yeah. Oh, shit."

"Let me try." He nudges me out of the way and grips the handle. With every twist and yank, it still doesn't move.

"Just because you're a guy with big, rippling, strong muscles doesn't mean you can magically open the locked door." I can't keep the sarcasm out of my tone.

He pulls the doorknob again. "I don't need your snarky commentary. At least I'm trying."

"If I wasn't trapped in a storage closet with you, I wouldn't need to be snarky," I snap, clenching and unclenching my fists before continuing my quest to find my phone. As I scan the shelves, a purple glitter case catches my attention. "Found it!" I lift my phone in the air like it's the Olympic torch. "I'll call Jake and tell him to come and let us out." I tap the screen, but nothing happens. My heart races as I repeatedly press the side buttons, but the screen remains dark. "Dammit. My phone's dead. Where's yours?"

He pats his pockets, then peers up at me as trepidation fills his eyes. "In my car."

"Are you kidding me?" I spit. "Who leaves their phone in their car?"

"Who leaves their phone dead in a storage room?"

My gaze jerks to his, and my eyes narrow into fiery slits. "I don't need your attitude right now. We're going to be stuck in here until morning."

His fists pound on the door.

I roll my eyes. "It's useless. No one can hear you."

Slowly, his fist connects with the metal door one last time in defeat .

I slump against the corner of a shelf. The metal digs into my back, but I don't care. I'm trapped in a storage room with Garrett fucking Dawson. I want to scream, but it'll be a wasted effort. "This is your fault. Why did you have to follow me? Better yet, why did you even come here?"

He spins around to face me. "Maybe if you talked to me when we were outside of the storage room, we wouldn't be here." The hum of the florescent lights echoes through the room. "And how was I supposed to know a piece of wood I accidentally kicked was propping the door open because the doorknob is broken?"

"Don't shift the blame on me," I scold.

"Also, if you didn't forget your phone in the storage room, which is clearly something you still do, we wouldn't be in this mess. Two strikes for you."

Oh, hell no. Now he's turned this personal. "I don't always lose my phone."

He laughs, lightening the mood slightly. "How many times did you forget it in my car in high school?"

I scoff, crossing my arms and shifting my gaze away from him. "That's not the point."

"I think I proved my point perfectly."

"Don't be so smug."

He shrugs. "Actually, this is kind of perfect. Now you can't run away from me." He finds a five-gallon bucket in the far corner and tips it upside down. Before sitting, he pulls his hoodie over his head. His shirt rides up, exposing a sliver of tan skin and a delightful happy trail that disappears in the waistband of his jeans.

I jerk my gaze away, praying he didn't catch me. Don't get distracted by the sexy baseball player. "What don't you understand? I don't want to talk." Stomping to the opposite side of the room, I pivot my shoulder so I'm facing away from him. I need all the space I can get so I don't reach out and strangle him.

"Stop being so stubborn."

I eye him over my shoulder. "I'm not stubborn. I'm standing my ground."

He props his elbows on his knees and scrubs his hands down his face. "I'm sorry I hurt you."

"Hurt me?" I push off the shelf and square my shoulders. "You destroyed me. You left without saying a word. Not a single goodbye. Nothing. You just left. You were supposed to be my best friend, and you just left." I pace from one side of the small room to the other. Apparently, the flood gate has opened. It was only a matter of time before I exploded. "I called and called, and you never answered. All my calls went to voicemail. All three hundred and twenty of them. Yes, I kept count. Yes, I'm pathetic because I hoped my best friend would pick up the phone and talk to me. And you returned none of them. Nothing. Just shut me out. Forgot about me. Eventually, I stopped when I realized the number was disconnected." I blow out a deep breath, willing the tears welling up in the corners of my eyes not to fall. "You didn't even invite me to your draft party. We were best friends. I would have been happy for you, celebrated with you, but you pretended like I no longer existed. I had to hear about it from Kristen! Who was not subtle in her bragging."

He jumps to his feet, jaw clenching. "It was a big night for me. I didn't want to spend it being fucking miserable because I'd have to see Tony's arm around you the entire night!" His head tilts toward the ceiling and he blows out a deep breath. "I didn't invite her. That was Tony's doing."

"Either way, it doesn't matter." My shoulders sag. I wave my hand between us. "We were friends. Best friends. And you stopped caring. "

He takes a step closer. "What don't you understand? You were dating my brother. I couldn't stand to see you. Be near you."

His words are like a sucker punch to the gut. For so long, we were best friends, and he had no qualms about throwing me out like day-old trash. My back goes rigid, and I square my shoulders. "You said your piece. Once we're out of the storage room, we never have to speak to each other. Again."

"Fuck. Dessa." His face falls, and he rubs the back of his neck. "It was my only choice."

"You act like it was a prison sentence." I roll my eyes, my hands shaking as I spin around so my back is to him.

"No, it wasn't." With his hand on my bicep, he spins me around. "It was worse." His tone is somber.

I yank my arm away from him.

"You don't get it." His gaze drops to the floor, and the harsh lines on his forehead soften. "That was supposed to be our night. It was me you were supposed to be with. Not Tony."

"What the hell are you talking about? What night?"

"At Jacobson's lake party after our junior year."

Recognition hits me about the night he's talking about.

Garrett rises from his camp chair next to the fire pit and stares down at me. "I'm going to take a walk to the lake. Want to join?"

"Oh. Sure." I stand.

Tony lifts his head and peers at us. "Are you sure you want to go down there? There could be bears or something in the woods. Plus, we're about to light the fireworks."

"Bears? Really? I'm sure they're more afraid of us than we are of them. Plus, I'll protect her." Garrett throws his arm over my shoulder, tugging me to his chest.

I wrap an arm around his waist to keep steady and laugh. "Like that time I had to kill the spider that you claim was ready to make you its next meal."

"That thing was huge, and it cornered me. It was ready to strike at any moment."

A burst of laughter escapes my lips as I playfully roll my eyes. "Okay. If you say so." Then I glance at Tony. "We'll be back in a few."

"Feel free to start the fireworks without us," Garrett says over his shoulder.

Once on the dock, I lean back on my hands, mimicking his pose. Our feet dangle over the edge as the moonlight dances over the ripples in the lake. For a brief moment, our pinkies graze. With the single touch, a delightful surge of electricity dances through my body. I spare a glance at Garrett from the corner of my eyes as he stares off into the distance. All I want to do is reach over and intertwine our fingers. Instead, I inch closer to him on the dock, but he doesn't do anything. He's as still as a statue. Distant chatter and laughter echoes across the lake as everyone else gathers around the fire pit. His gaze flits to mine and god, I wish I could read his mind. The moment our eyes lock, his gaze darts away and his body tenses.

"I can't believe this time next year we'll be the ones graduating from high school." He breaks the silence.

"Have you decided what you're going to do?" I ask.

His head falls back as he peers at the dark sky. "I have a baseball scholarship to Florida State, but Coach thinks I should go into the draft. He believes my skills are good enough."

All I can do is nod. Florida is so far away, but baseball is his dream. It always has been. "I'll have to come visit."

"You better." He winks.

"It's so quiet and peaceful here. I needed a break from all the noise. Thanks for inviting me."

"Of course. I know you always enjoy sitting by the lake. Plus, I wouldn't want you wandering down here by yourself in the dark. I'd be a little sad if you got lost or eaten by a bear." He smirks .

"Only a little sad?" I laugh.

"Maybe a smidge more than a little." He holds his thumb and pointer finger together.

"Are there actually bears around here?"

"Occasionally, but for the most part, they're more scared of you than you are of them."

"I can assure you I would be the one more terrified if I came face-to-face with a bear. You'd have to come save me with your strong muscles." Reaching over, I squeeze his bicep. Mostly, it's an excuse to get close and touch him. I link my arm with his and snuggle into his side. He smells like citrus with a hint of campfire smoke. I steal a glance at him, and he twists his head to face me. Our eyes meet, and an electric jolt of happiness surges through me. I fight the urge to lean in and press my lips to his. But he clears his throat and drops his gaze. I blow out a small breath and unlink my arm with his. A thick cloud of tension billows between us.

"Dessa?"

"Yeah?" I turn to face him.

"There's something I want to do ? —"

"There you two are." Tony's loud voice echoes across the lake as he clambers down the dock. The wood creaks and groans with every heavy footfall. "You've been down here forever. Are you two having girl talk?" He throws his arms around both our shoulders and sticks his head between us. "Mitchell, we need you to settle a debate whether Harrison should either shave his head or go for a mohawk."

"She has an actual name," Garrett mumbles under his breath.

Annoyance coils through me at the use of my last name. It reminds me of his teammates, one of the guys. Next thing he'll be slapping my ass, telling me great job. I brush it off. I'll deal with it later. "You guys are shaving his head?"

"Yes. And your answer will decide his fate." He helps me to my feet.

"Why am I the one to decide? Shouldn't that be Cara's job since she's the one dating him and will be stuck looking at him? "

"She's not here at the moment, so it's in your hands."

I glance at Garrett and mouth, "Sorry." Garrett drops his chin as Tony drags me down the dock and toward the fire pit. When we reach the grass, Kristen races past us and onto the dock. When she reaches Garrett, she wraps her arms around his neck and settles herself on his lap. He wraps his arm around her waist, and I can't bear to watch them any longer.

"What I remember about that night is Kristen all over you as soon as I left."

He links his fingers behind his head. "I didn't want her. I wanted you. So fucking bad. You were supposed to be with me. Because," his hands drop to his sides as if he's holding lead weights, "I had feelings for you for so long. And you?—"

"What?" I step closer to him, preparing for a fight. "What did I do?"

He blows out a breath. "Left with Tony."

"Because you blew me off! All night I was giving you signs. Touching you. Moving closer. And you ignored all of them."

"Those were signs? We'd always been like that."

"Exactly! I wanted to kiss you. I was so excited when you invited me to the lake because I wanted alone time with you. And you blew me off like you didn't want me!"

He steps closer so we're toe-to-toe. "I wanted to kiss you so bad that night. It was eating me up inside."

I bump my chest against his, getting in his face. "And I wanted you to kiss me!"

His nostrils flare as my jaw clenches. Seconds tick by as we stare at each other. My chest rises in time with his. Like a vacuum all the air is sucked from my lungs, and I can't breathe. After years of built-up tension, a fireball of heat and passion bursts through me. I'm surprised I don't spontaneously combust. There's only one thing that can extinguish the flame. I clasp his face between my palms and smash my mouth to his. The brim of his cap stabs me in the forehead, but it's the least of my concerns. I inch closer to him until the front of his cap pushes off his head. Hops and mint linger on his lips. I'm already addicted. His arm wraps around my waist, desperately clinging to me like if he lets go, he'll lose me again. All my thoughts are consumed by Garrett. Kissing him. Him kissing me. Having our bodies flush. It's dizzying.

I jerk away. My chest heaves as I work to collect my breath. His eyelids rise to half-mast. His normally green irises are almost black with desire.

"Fuck," he whispers.

"Double fuck," I murmur. Being trapped in such close proximity to him, touching him, and kissing him short circuited my head, heart, and lady bits. My gaze drops to his mouth. I suck in the corner of my bottom lip, desperate to have his mouth on mine again. His lips twitch. With one hand, he takes off his cap and flips it backwards. A guy wearing a cap, hot. A guy who flips it backwards turns my panties to ash. Some girls like forearm porn, but I ladygasm over the backwards cap. Before I know it, his lips are on mine again. It's hot. Desperate. Frantic. Needy. And everything in between. I moan into his mouth, and he deepens the kiss. With his arms wrapped around me, my steps retreat until my back hits one of the shelves, rattling bottles from the sudden jolt.

As I run my hands over his chest, I'm fixated on the firmness beneath my fingertips. His heart hammers under my palm and I know mine's doing the same. I'm drunk on Garrett Dawson, and I don't want it to stop.

His fingers curl through my hair at the nape of my neck, holding me in place as his tongue sweeps across the seam of my lips. I press my body closer to his, needing to feel him against me. A surge of pleasure courses through me as his growing erection presses against my stomach. I'm desperate for this. For him. I open my mouth and our tongues stroke against each other's. It's hot and needy. A cloud of passion envelops us, and I never want it to dissipate. I didn't know what to expect, but it wasn't this. It's better. So much better.

He pulls away and I gasp for a breath. Slowly, he drags the tip of his nose against mine. "Fuck. I've wanted to do that for a long time."

"Same," I murmur..

"I don't want to stop."

"Me either."

"The ball's yours, Tates. What's the call?"

If he can turn me on so much from a kiss, I'm desperate to know what else he can do.

"Fast ball. Right down the center." I hold my breath, waiting for his next move.

He releases his grip from my hair and trails his fingertips over my arm, causing goosebumps to prickle my skin. He moves across my shoulder and collarbone until his fingers wrap around the base of my neck. His fingers dimple my delicate skin. It's not tight, but just enough so I know he's there and, damn, it turns me on more than it should.

"Good answer." His mouth descends on mine in a searing kiss.