Page 105 of Endgame

Both moments I’ll never forget.

The fact I spent the entire day checking off my to-do list is fulfilling. Completing those tasks inevitably leads to attending dinner with the Hayes family.

I’ve known Mr. and Mrs. Hayes since Navy and I first became friends, but that's all they’ve ever known me as, Navy’s friend.

Not their only son’s girlfriend.

I don’t even know if we’re calling it that. Callaway seems adamant about it, but I still think a conversation needs to be had about where we see this going between us. I’m almostpositive we’re both on the same page, but still, it needs to be discussed.

Contrary to my nervousness, I look forward to spending time with his parents. I’m also slightly curious about how Callaway will interact with me around them, especially knowing he’s never brought a woman home or dated much at all. Even with our undefined status, we’ve never shown much PDA towards each other unless privately.

However, based on the level of desperation I have for this man, I’m at the point where I’d fuck him on a park bench at a neighborhood craft festival. Talk about making a scene. He can take me however his heart desires, and I won’t argue about the details.

Time is ticking, handsome—time to make your way into my pants before I put you there myself.

Maybe that’s why I’m starting to feel twinges of excitement now that the anxiousness has worn off. I know meeting the parents is the next step in a relationship—not that I’m an expert, butresearch.

Being with Callaway has only solidified what I already knew about my relationship with Trevor; there was never a mutuality of feeling between us. He was blatantly ashamed of being with me, and I was blinded to it.

Lesson learned.

Thankfully, the Hayeses know about my parents’ passing, so we don’t have to dive into that uncomfortable topic. Navy’s mom was the one in the front row holding me closely at the funeral while I fell apart.

It must have been a coincidence I never saw Callaway, given how present they’ve always been.

I think meeting him officially the way we did is my favorite accident and something I wouldn’t change.

Callaway is picking me up at five, which means he won’tbe here a minute later given his expert promptness—never keep a woman waiting and all that.

Since he was useless in giving me any leads on what to wear, I settle on a pair of dark wash high-waisted jeans, a coral scalloped tank top, my seashell necklace, and jute brown platform sandals.

Deciding to leave the Dunks at home, I feel cute.

My style has always been a combination of coastal boho meets athleisure.

After checking the clock, I realize I have thirty minutes to take myself from homeless to presentable.

It’s doable. Maybe.

Curling my hair is the chosen sacrifice, so I decide to straighten it as thoroughly as possible before applying my makeup. I really need to get some serious beauty instructions from Navy when she has a chance. The woman never looks anything short of perfection.

I’m clueless about what to expect from this dinner. It feels similar to walking into a lion's den, except I know these lions, and they’re protective of their cubs—rightfully so. I also decided to run to the market earlier and grab a bottle of red wine.

I mean, who doesn’t love wine? Oh God, what if they’re newly sober, and I make myself look like a wino?

Chill out, Dakota. You like wine, so bring the wine.

I’d rather show up withsomethingthan be empty-handed.

I grab my purse and phone to keep everything organized on the kitchen counter, ensuring nothing is forgotten. The ringing doorbell cuts through the living room just in time, and I can’t fight the smile of happiness that paints my face.

It’s getting easier to fall for him since I’ve allowed myself to feel.

And heaven help me, I’m feeling so much for Callaway.

I know his natural attractiveness will knock me off my feet as soon as I open this door. I need to invest in knee pads—I’ve got big plans to be on my knees for him. His thick cock will be getting around-the-clock care.

He’s turning me into his little hussy.

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