Chapter 35

Chapter Thirty-Five

DANE

" T he crowd was totally swooning over you. They were thinking life isn't fair—he's gorgeous, carved from a master craftsman, and he can sing. Totally fucking unfair," she says as she turns away from me, toeing off her shoes and dare I say avoiding me.

I snake my arms around her waist and speak softly into her ear. "Don't forget taken. He's taken by the girl that let him braid her hair. And you sing like an angel except when you're rapping." Searching for the right words that reflect my truth, I unbutton my shirt and place her hand over my heart. "This is only for you. My heart has belonged to you before I even knew what that meant."

"Well, you're clueless when it comes to women."

"Are you ready for me to prove you wrong?" My hands skate under her dress, and the fabric bunches on my forearms before I pull it the rest of the way off.

"I think I am," she rasps.

She's nee dy and not physically. The song we sang for the record executives has her mind spinning. Unless I'm completely off-base, she needs to feel emotionally connected, so instead of screwing her until she can't walk, my lips move across her skin painstakingly slow.

Lettie mumbles under her breath. "I don't deserve you. We're so different."

"I'm the one who doesn't deserve you," I argue with a suctioning pull on her nipple covered by the lace bra.

My dick is so hard, but I keep the torturous pace and finally have her naked. Her long, full legs lay straight on the bed. I don't widen them. Instead, I massage her muscles, then place a wet kiss where my hands once were. Arching slightly, wanting more of me, a sexy dick-erecting moan falls from her lips.

"Baby, I want to celebrate you, all of you. Your thighs that clamp around me. The mathematical clock in your brain that knows how fast to go on the course. Your beautiful voice. Your green eyes. Your luscious lips wrapped around me. All of it. But tonight, I want you to know, with one hundred percent certainty, that you… you're all I'll ever need."

My lips skim the surface of her skin until they land on her lips. I cuddle them over and over in mine. For the next few hours, we take our time making love. It's not X-rated. It's just two people in sync who care more about truly feeling loved and appreciated than the next orgasm.

Don't get me wrong, I've given her plenty tonight, but there haven't been explosions. More like sparklers where they ignite for a few seconds, then roll into the next one. When her incredible body moves over mine, my dick twitches inside of her, and she peels our sticky skin apart and withdraws me, using her hand as I come. She uses her finger, writing something with my cum.

"What are you writing?"

"I was drawing a heart around our initials." She hops off the bed, grabs her phone, and takes a photo of my torso, then shows it to me.

She erases any memory of other girls I've been with, always surprising me with her spontaneity.

"I wish it was engraved on my skin."

I didn't expect a parade when I returned to campus, but I also didn't expect the cold shoulder from my teammates. After I unpack and run downstairs with my laundry bag, a few of the guys are playing video games.

"Hey." Silence. "I'm sorry but if any of you fucks were in love, you would understand." They look straight ahead at the football game they're playing, and the only sounds come from the clicking of their controllers.

Sighing, I walk around the corner where Nick and Devon are playing ping pong.

"Look who's back. Saint or Sinner?" Devon asks.

Nick scrubs his beard. "Greathouse, you better be ready to repent. The team is pissed."

I swing the laundry bag over my shoulder. "I'll take everyone for a steak dinner tonight."

"It's going to take more than that."

I walk back down the hallway to the laundry room, and I sort my whites from my colors like Lettie's grandmother taught me. Her grandparents have been a Godsend, teaching me how to be a man from the time I could ride a bike. As I load three washing machines and add the detergent, my mind zones in on the differences between Lettie and me. And how that makes us click. We give each other experiences that we wouldn't get if we were both country club or both gothic. Our differences make it interesting. We're two sides of a coin.

"Greathouse! Get in here." I think it's JaJuan yelling.

I guess it's time to beg for forgiveness. The whole team is in front of the eighty-inch television screen, but it's not the video game playing. Instead, they're watching the news. It's the local station doing a follow up on Lettie.

The footage focuses on Lettie's ride, then pans to me saying I love you and touching my heart. But then my heart leaps from my chest when it switches to us singing at the bar. The first clip is when we're singing the fast song, then me kissing her.

In unison, my teammates stamp their feet and scream, "Damn!" drawing out the word too damn long. "Dane's got game."

Nick adds, "Who knew?"

"Why didn 't I know you could sing?" Devon asks, shaking his head like I've been holding the secret to the Holy Grail.

My cheeks hurt from smiling, and my libido stirs, remembering how we expressed our feelings last night.

At the end of the newscast, the reporter says, "To listen to the songs in their entirety, follow us on socials. This may be the most adorable couple since you know who."

They seem to be softening up, and I take the opportunity to gain my teammates' trust again. "Get dressed, fellas. We're going to Blake's Steakhouse, then to McShane's."

I guess I'm forgiven for the time being as they all head to their rooms and change out of their Stallions gear into jeans and nicer shirts.

By the time we get to dinner, all anyone is talking about is Lettie and me singing. Nick says, "You've got to see this." He shoves his phone in my face. "It already has over a million views."

"Fuck, this isn't good," I mumble.

Nick responds, "Why not? You two are fucking awesome."

I shake my head, glad that Nick isn't pining over Lettie, and our friendship is intact. ‘Lettie's in the middle of trying to make the Olympic trials and needs to focus."

"Forget the Olympics and basketball; you and Lettie need to be in Nashville."

All I can hear is the guys playing the videos on their phones. The station just now loaded "Can't Break Up Now," and as I watch and listen, Lettie is suffocating on the same words her voice sings. The only way to describe w hat I feel is wrecked. That's how Lettie's body and expressions look. She's either completely engrossed in the song, or she's actually nervous about us breaking up.

Since Jasper and Lettie are flying to the next competition, I know it'll be a couple of hours before I'll be able to reach her.

We eat and head to McShane's for a couple of beers, joined by Mac and some of the football team. Mac slaps my back. "I guess I'll excuse you for missing my game. That was one hell of a show."

"Yeah, Lettie's ride was incredible."

"Yeah, that too." Obviously, he's more impressed by the three million views and counting on just one social media account. In no way can we run from this.

My phone rings and surprise… it's my dad. I raise my finger to the guys and point toward the door and bring the phone to my ear. "Hey, Dad. I'm sorry I missed practice."

"It didn't look good for my campaign when they reported you missed practice for unknown reasons, then you showed up at Lettie's competition. And do you think it's a good idea to date your best friend?"

Dad doesn't give me a chance to answer because of course, I think it's a fantastic idea. "You need to get your head on straight. No fucking distractions. I'll let you deal with Coach as far as basketball goes. If this polls negatively on my campaign, you'll have to fix it."

"Yes, sir."

"We'll talk when I get back from Washington DC."

"Okay."

Something is off with my dad. He didn't even ask when Lettie and I got together. Our relationship is changing, but for now, I'll count my blessings and try not to wait for the other shoe to drop. Maybe that's how Lettie feels too.

Me: Miss you already. I'm at McShane's buying beer for the guys, trying to get back in their good graces. I'll be back in an hour.

Finding our waiter, I pay the tab, plus a big fat tip, needing every ounce of karma available. "I'm headed back. Anyone want to go with me?"

Devon rides with me, updating me constantly on the views and likes. I've never been a social media junkie, but I could listen to Lettie sing all day.

Hagan: Congrats to Lettie. Would you and Lettie want to sing at our wedding? Just the first dance song?

Me: It's up to Lettie, but I'm up for it if she is.

Hagan: If basketball doesn't work out for you, I think you have a solid backup.

Me: Basketball is life.

Hagan: Even basketball is a snapshot in time. Most people have their voice forever.

I tap the l aughing emoji, shaking my head at how one innocent karaoke night has turned into something it wasn't supposed to be. It was two people celebrating together.

Lettie's name appears on the screen, and I put my finger over my mouth, so Devon stays quiet. I want to break this to her easy. "How was the flight? Still riding the high of yesterday's score?"

Her voice vibrates, humming. "Do you know why I have a text from Adalee asking if we can sing at their wedding?"

"The local news ran another story on your ride and… us singing. The whole state is behind you."

"They only care about me because their homegrown handsome basketball star was with me."

Ignoring the little jab and her inexplicable insecurities, I press my lips together. "There's more. The news linked the full videos to their social media."

Devon can't keep his mouth shut, leans over, and yells, "Over three million views. You and Greathouse are officially famous."

The line goes quiet for a minute before she says, "We did kick ass, didn't we?"

Devon shouts, "Hell yeah, you did. Everyone's going to ask the Stallions IT couple to sing now."

"I doubt that. It will die down when they report Devon Pile plays a whole game with a zero stat line," I joke.

"Shut the fuck up, Greathouse. Don't even breathe that kind of shit into the universe."

Lettie is i n the background, giggling as Devon and I dig at each other.

"Okay, boys, I have classwork to catch up on. Someone distracted me this weekend."

I turn away from the guys and whisper, "Video call tonight?"

"No, I really need to work and sleep. Tomorrow."

I'm not sure if she wants to say I love you in front of other people, so I say, "Good night, Bug."

"Night, Dane the Great."

I must be smiling because Devon says, "She's good for the ego."

It's no wonder several of my teammates have wanted to fuck her. She's a praiser—hot as hell—funny and sweet.

The first three days of my punishment feels like a month. There's not much room in my schedule to shower twice a day, much less get time with Lettie, but when she calls on Wednesday, I'm thankful to hear her voice not just on voicemail or reading a text.

"Guess what Jasper did?" she asks.

Lying on the bed, I roll my eyes. "Do you call him Jasper the Great?"

"You're in a sour mood. Have you talked to your dad again?"

"Yeah, he seems different lately. Anyway, what did Jasper do?"

"He had a sports analyst come. He put all of these GPS trackers on me and Diamond Mine as we jumped the course. It was so interesting. I could see how each muscle flexed if I pulled Diamond Mine ten percent instead of keeping him straight. So much data." Her voice is full of excitement and optimism, which makes me smile. "Have you ever had that done?"

"No, baby. But I'm happy Jasper is doing everything he can to make your dreams come true."

She sighs and flips the phone to video, and I follow her lead. "You've made all of this possible. You're my dream but acquiring enough points to get into the Olympic Trials is my goal."

"Thanks, I'm just tired. Cleaning bathrooms for a bunch of disgusting guys is taking its toll. It's hard to keep my eyes open. I want to see all of the data when you get home next weekend."

"We're going to this guy's office for the next two days to compare the best riders in the world to me. Go to sleep. I love you."

"Have fun. I know how much you love numbers. I love you."

We hang up and didn't hear each other's voice until Sunday. But of course, I'm still cleaning, going to class, training, making commercials, practice, physical therapy, and sleeping, so we only talk for a half hour.

Monday:

Me: Morning. Slow and steady?

Lettie: Morning. Fast and hard?

Me: We're video calling tonight, and we'll see who breaks first.

Lettie: I can break you in three minutes.

Me: I can break you in two minutes.

Lettie: I can break you in one minute forty-eight seconds.

Me: Lettie, do your best.

God, I love her.

The video call broke the phone, it was so hot. My wrist may be broken so I tried using the opposite hand. Lord, I need to practice with that hand. It was all over the place as I watched Lettie use a vibrator and spread open her folds.

Tuesday:

Lettie: Morning. Football or hockey?

Me: Morning. Golf or tennis?

Wednesday:

Me: Morning. Should I shave my balls?

Lettie: Morning. I would be more likely to put them in my mouth.

Me: Fuck, Lettie, I'm in Coach's office doing my time.

Lettie: Well, I'm getting ready to ride Diamond Mine through the new course.

Thursday:

Me: Thanks for the article on manscaping. They are smooth and ready to be sucked into those pouty lips.

Lettie: Since you love me as an appetizer, I'll ask the same. Hair or no hair? Or just a landing strip?

Me: Sunday can't come soon enough.

Friday:

Me: Morning, baby. Thanks for last night. I needed to relax a little. Are you doing yoga this afternoon?

Lettie: Morning. Yes, yoga at four. Dinner at six with Jasper and in bed early. Gotta be on top of my game.

Me: You have a package arriving today.

Lettie: I love surprises.

Me: Remember when I surprised you with tickets to P!NK.

Lettie: I thought it was the best day of my life.

Me: Where does it rank now?

Lettie: Lower than every day we've been together.

Me: Aww, my Lettie Bug is going soft.

Lettie: As long as you stay hard, we'll be fine.

Me: That's my sassy girl. I've been hard since the tenth grade thinking about you.

Lettie: Wish I would have known.

Me too.

Exhaustion takes over my body, and I fall face first onto my bed. Classes, a private training session, and practice is normal, but who knew cleaning bathrooms and mopping floors can be so tiring. I'm using muscles I didn't know I had. My shoulders hurt and damn, my knees feel like they're permanently indented with creases of the tile.

A knock on my door, then footsteps into my bedroom. I must not have closed the door to my apartment. "Greathouse, Chef Ellie made your favorite."

"I'm not getting off this bed for grilled chicken."

"No, man. It's shrimp and grits… Southern style… just for you."

Pushing my hands against my mattress, I lift my body, shooting him a sideways glance. "It's not my birthday."

"Coach told Chef Ellie to make your favorite. Let's go."

Why am I getting rewarded when I break the rules?

"Quit fucking with me. We'll get down to the dining room, and there will be chicken and quinoa."

"Whatever. But I've seen the grits; they look cheesy."

Nick knows my Achilles heel is cheese. Put cheese on anything, and I'm eating it. I hop up and push my feet into my slides. When we get to the dining room, the whole team claps, "Captain. Captain."

Coach isn't usually here for dinner, but he walks in behind me and gives me a fist bump.

"Before you fill up your plates, I want to say a little something about our captain."

I always hate these moments where the spotlight is on me, and I'll be expected to talk.

"Dane messed up. One, he left without telling anyone where he was. I understand a few of you urged him to do something big for his girlfriend, but they didn't expect you to miss practice and team bonding. However, being married for twenty years, I appreciate Dane wanting to support his girlfriend in making the Olympic Trials. Frankly, it's nice to see a four-year player growing outside of basketball."

He looks at me and grabs my shoulder. "Dane, you've been here four years, and I've been told by your teammates that you've never been committed to anything but basketba ll. I hope you figure out how to juggle both. You've taken your punishment without protest, which tells me you understand what you did was wrong. You've ran and ran. You've cleaned toilets, mopped floors. Do you know why I had you do that?"

"Because I needed to be taught a lesson?"

"Basketball doesn't last forever no matter how great any of you are. It teaches you respect of other jobs and how hard they work. Right?"

"Yes, Coach. It was a lot harder than I expected."

"From now on, if any of you need a day off, come talk to me. I'm not saying it will be granted, but I came here to coach basketball but also to coach you young men in life. Now let's thank Chef Ellie for this beautiful dinner."

Chef Ellie blushes as I grab her into a hug. "Thank you." The other guys stand and get in line to thank her. Senior year is turning out to be the best of my life. It started with a new coach and Lettie dating Nick, and now I'm learning my coach will become more than a coach in my lifetime, and Lettie's my girlfriend.

Stuffed to the gills and worn out, I tread back upstairs to my room and get some reading done for my history class. I have a test next week and tomorrow will be a bust, going to practice and shooting the commercial I rescheduled, then talking to Lettie.

After about fifty pages, my phone rings.

"Hey."

"I love i t. Switch to video," she demands in an excited tone.

Tapping the phone, it turns around, and my mouth falls open. Lettie's wearing my practice jersey that I wore on Monday night. It's white with the Stallions logo in the center. She turns slow and peeks over her shoulder, with her creased blonde hair waving over her back where she had her hair in a bun. The ends of her hair touches right above my name. The hem of the jersey hits her at mid-thigh, showing off her spectacular legs.

"What's wrong?" she asks with a hint of insecurity in her tone.

"Nothing. It's perfect," I reply, still speechless.

She rewards me with a shy smile. "It smells like you."

"I wore it at practice and shipped it the next day."

"I love it. I'm wearing it to bed tonight." She twists her shoulders like a smitten schoolgirl.

As much as I love seeing it on her now, I can't wait until she wears it for me in person, so I ask, "Will you wear it on Sunday? We have our first scrimmage, then Reed and Brooke are having people over to watch Logan and the Louisville Heavyweights."

"Of course! My first official game as Dane the Great's girlfriend."

Her response causes my grin to stretch wider. "How do you feel about the competition tomorrow?"

"Awesome. We've worked hard on tweaking my positions. It's crazy how adjusting a half of an inch in one direction can help Diamond Mine jump or make the turn with a per fect stride. But the stakes are high. I need to make the points in all of my competitions to be sure of getting an invitation to the trials, so I admit I'm a little nervous."

She feeds off the excitement from being in an arena. "Think of it like it's me and you hunting butterflies and fireflies. Just you and Diamond Mine out jumping."

She lets out a sigh, followed by a lopsided smile. "We have so many memories. Do you know how lucky we are?"

"I do."

"How was your last day of punishment?"

"I had to clean the refrigerator, stove, grills ,the toilets and mop floors here at The Stable, while the housekeepers watched me."

"I hope they are old and fat. I would love to be the one watching you on your hands and knees."

"If you want me to crawl to you, baby, just ask."