Holding On To Heaven (Allendale Four 2)

She wrinkled her nose and pushed her long hair over her shoulder. “I overheard you tell Jackson you would come watch and I figured Oliver would be here too.” Her eyes skimmed the field. Both guys were on the green lawn. They had on their practice uniforms. Tight gray pants, fitted T-shirts with the University’s mascot across the front. They both wore caps; Oliver’s low over his eyes and Jackson’s turned backwards. My stomach fluttered at the sight of them.

“He’s super-hot,” she said, never taking her eyes off of him. “And really nice. He helped me carry a box up from the post office the other day.”

When he came to see me, I wanted to add.

I’d admitted to my suitemates that I was dating Jackson—casually. And that I’d gone out with Anderson a few times as well. They seemed to accept that. Hayden and Oliver were harder to explain. The guys were around one another all the time and just like back at home, incredibly visible and noticeable. Four hot-as-hell best friends was a little impossible not to notice, even on a large campus. And me as the girl that hung out with them wasn’t really a big deal. But pushing it beyond that was something I wasn’t comfortable with. I glanced down to the field and Oliver looked up, catching my eye. He winked before throwing the ball with incredible force. I had the distinct urge to mark my territory.

“Oh my god, he winked at you! You are so lucky to have him as a friend.”

“He’s pretty amazing,” I agreed. She shifted next to me, stretching out her long, thin legs. My eyes traveled up her arms, to the smooth skin, unmarred by scars or physical damage. Her eyes bright, unencumbered with a dark past.

Maybe Oliver deserved someone like Samantha? Maybe they should all get a chance to sow their wild oats, experience other girls—normal girls.

“Tell me something about him,” she said. “What does he like? What’s he into?”

Me.

He was into me, I wanted to tell her. He liked having his earlobe nibbled and he was the best snu

ggler. He treated me like a queen and was a really good listener. His cock was huge—like seriously—it was one of the reasons I hadn’t had sex with him yet. I saw it and panicked, but I know when the time comes he’d be gentle and we’d have amazing fun.

“Guys,” I blurted. “He’s into guys.” I made a face. “Sorry.”

“Oh, what? Really?” She narrowed her eyes and studied him as though this would clear things up. “I thought you said he had a girlfriend back home?”

“I lied. I’m a total asshole. Just…I don’t think he’s into dating right now. He’s super into baseball.” Again, he looked up in the stands. I waved, feeling only the slightest bit of guilt.

“Bummer,” she said, gathering her things. “I guess I’ll head back and see what Ruthie’s doing for dinner.”

“I’m sure I’ll see you later.” I try to keep the smugness down a little, because I’d totally just pulled a bitch move.

She looked down on the bleacher next to me. “You got a text.”

I picked it up. “Thanks.”

She walked off, probably licking her wounds at losing out on a truly fantastic guy. Too bad he was already taken. Once she left I read the text.

Heaven! It’s Noah Hancock. My father gave me your number. It seems we’ve been set up by the FTB (Fathers that Be--you know, instead of PTB) for a casual hang out at my at the UCC on Thursday. Although it’s an awkward set-up I would really like for you to come. It’s a kick-off party for the big game on Saturday so wear your team colors—and bring a friend!

Party starts at nine!

P.S. Love your name

Thursday night? Shit. Anderson’s swim meet was that night. Surely I’d be over by nine. I typed out a quick response.

Noah,

The FTB really want us to meet up, eh? I figured I could do this one little favor—how bad could a party be? I’ll be there around 9 dressed in red.

Heaven

He sent back a series of emojis and I tried not to roll my eyes.

A party wouldn’t be so bad, but a semi-date? That was a complication. The logical thing was to let the boys know. I looked down at the field and watched Jackson swing the bat. His shoulders flexed and his biceps strained and I imagined him cracking Noah in the head with it. Okay, so maybe that was logical but also potentially dangerous. Then I imagined my father finding out what happened and why.

Nope. None of that would work.

There was no way I could tell them about Noah, and I would just make it clear to this guy that I wasn’t interested and be done with the whole situation. Surely Noah would feel the same, right?