Hopefully Laura will still like me after she knows the truth. She seems like a firecracker; that Barry guy has his hands full.
At the bar I order the drinks and another non-alcoholic beer for myself. I continue to watch her as I lean against the bar to wait. Fuck, she’s pretty. If I had to pretend to date anyone, I’d choose her a hundred times over. Kissing her again, finally, set my skin on fire. I haven’t gotten stiff like that from a kiss in ages; the second I got her legs around my waist, I had to keep myself from deliberately pushing us both over the edge. She tasted like my beer and fruity lip balm and her cute, curvy body was so warm against my chest, even through her thick sweatshirt. It’s going to be a struggle not to take this thing too far.
It’s not like I have any other options, though; I need her help to pass the class. If this is what she wants in exchange for that, I’ll do it, and do it well. Darryl won’t know what hit him, other than the fact Bex has someone in her corner who will fuck up anyone who hurts her.
The bartender sets the drinks down at the exact moment I see Bex lift her sleeves, holding out her wrists to Laura.
Fuck. She did flinch when I grabbed her wrist. I wasn’t sure if I’d been imagining it.
I practically throw some cash down on the bar top, then gather up the drinks. But I’m not in the mood to kick back and relax anymore, knowing Darryl hurt Bex. I shove through the crowd, glad that my size makes it easy. The moment I reach the girls, I say, “How badly?”
Bex flicks her gaze up to look at me. “Not too bad. James—”
“He fucking hurt you.”
“And he won’t again once he knows we’re together. He’s a coward. He talks a big game, but—”
I cut her off again; I can’t help it. “He won’t again because I’m about to break his fucking face.”
She shakes her head as she reaches out for my hand and squeezes our palms together. “You can’t.”
“Watch me.”
“Don’t,” Laura says.
I turn to her. “No offense, but I didn’t ask for your opinion.”
She puts her hands on her hips, glaring right back at me, clearly not the slightest bit intimidated by the energy I’m radiating. “If you start anything, you’ll be blamed. You could be suspended, and that’s the least of it.”
I grit my teeth. “He hurt her.”
“And this wouldn’t be helping her.”
“She’s right,” Bex says. “You can’t risk it.”
I take a deep breath. Now that the immediate wave of emotion is receding, I feel a little calmer. “You’re right.”
I can’t believe how close I came to sending myself right over the edge again. The second I decided Bex was mine—even if it’s just for show—I was ready to throw it all away for her. This is exactly what Coach Gomez warned me against. Sara proved that I can’t let myself get drawn in completely. I jump right off the cliff without a second thought.
Her eyes search mine. “Promise me you’ll leave him alone. Act like everything is normal. Just tell him that it’s not his business who I decide to date. I promise that he’ll get the message.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yeah.” She leans up, kissing my cheek. “But thank you.”
I have no choice but to believe her. “Fine. But let me know if he tries anything.”
She takes her drink from the table and sips it. “You know, I think girlfriends usually get introduced to the team.”
“You sure? He’s right back there.”
She takes my hand and leads me through the crowd. “I know.”
When we reach the back, we’re still holding hands. Seb chokes on his beer, and Bo gives me a pointed look. Cooper even pulls himself away from the girl he’s making out with to stare.
And Darryl looks like he’s about to tackle me into the pool table. For half a second, everyone is frozen, waiting to see how he’ll react. Beside me, Bex squeezes my hand, hard. She’s smiling, but she’s putting up a front. She’s scared of what Darryl will do.
If I need to throw myself in front of her, I will.
“Hey, Bo,” she says. “Good game earlier.”
“Uh, thanks.” Bo looks at me as he adds, “Wasn’t expecting to see you here.”
“I know, right?” she says with a little laugh. “Because it’s been so long since Darryl and I broke up.”
Darryl sets his beer down so hard the table rattles. “Baby, I know what game you’re playing, and you need to cut the shit now.”
“No games. I’ve just moved on.” She gives him a grin. “Haven’t you?”
He works his jaw, trying to force a smile that doesn’t quite work. “Watch out,” he tells me. “She’ll leave you high and dry, she’s such a…”
“A what?” I say pleasantly. “Can’t hear you.”
Darryl thinks about saying it, he really does. I can see the gears working in his slimy little brain, wondering if the satisfaction of calling Bex a nasty word will be worth the pain of my threat. I stand my ground, well aware of how our teammates are staring. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Seb slide over to Cooper. The two of them are ready to jump into action to defend me if this turns into a fight.
“Let’s go,” Darryl eventually mutters to a couple of his buddies.
One of them—a safety I haven’t interacted with much yet—gives me a sneer as he goes. “Watch it, Callahan. Coach Gomez might’ve gone out of his way to bring you here, but you’re not untouchable.”
“Aw,” I say. “Is that your crappy attempt at shit talking? No wonder Notre Dame ran all over you today.”
He scoffs, but at Darryl’s look, leaves instead of retaliating.
The tension seeps out of me once they’re gone. Bex’s hand goes limp in mine, too; I hadn’t even noticed how tightly she was holding on until I rub the blood back into it.
“Sorry,” she says. “I didn’t mean to make things even more awkward.”
“It’s fine.”
“Is it, though?” She’s whispering now, glancing over her shoulder at everyone who stayed. “I can’t fuck up the team for you.”
“I already told him that if he disrespected a woman—you included—I’d stop throwing to him. They know that.” I lead her over to the table Darryl just left, sitting down. It takes her a moment, but she decides to perch on my lap. I steady her with a hand on her knee, fighting the smile that threatens to overwhelm my face. I have a feeling that being around Bex means always being surprised.
“When?” she asks.
“Before I even knew who you were. He was talking shit about you at that party.”
Her eyes widen. “Before I kissed you?”
Coop and Seb settle into the two other chairs at the table. I raise an eyebrow at them, but they just share a grim glance.
“Bro,” Seb says. “What the fuck is going on?”
13
JAMES
When I walk into the classroom—a full fifteen minutes early, thank you very much, Mr. Professor—I see immediately that I managed to get there before Bex. Score. Every other class meeting so far, she’s been there ahead of time, her laptop already open, scribbling in her planner with one of her cute gel pens. But today, I get to have a moment alone at our table before facing her.
Pretending to date her has made this class easier and harder all at once. On the one hand it’s easier, since she’s holding up her end of the deal with tutoring. But on the other hand, it’s way more difficult, since I’m drawn to her like a candle to a box of fucking matches, apparently, and sitting next to her for over an hour while being expected to pay attention to something boring like essay writing is cruel and unusual punishment. I’ve given up fighting my attraction to her. Attraction is fine; it’s safe. So what if I acknowledge she’s gorgeous and I’d love nothing more than to sleep with her? It’s the feelings I need to watch out for. That’s what got me in trouble with Sara.
I set the two coffees down on the table and slide my backpack off my shoulder. I’ve been to The Purple Kettle a bunch of times, mostly to see if I can catch a few moments of conversation with Bex, and I figured out that she likes her coffee iced with two pumps of caramel syrup, so I got that along with a black iced coffee for myself. On impulse, I went ahead and bought her a pumpkin muffin, too. Something tells me she’s the sort of girl who gets excited about all the pumpkin-related products that pop up during the fall.
The class starts to filter in. A bunch of girls stare at me, but they always do, so I ignore them. They’ve been straight up glaring at Bex—I guess the news of our “relationship” is making the rounds—but she doesn’t seem to mind. Maybe if this was real, I’d want her to be more possessive, but as it stands, I’m relieved. If anything, I’m more worried about this snowballing into something I’m not ready for emotionally for me than for her.
She walks in with just a couple minutes to go, and she’s on the phone with someone. Her mouth is taut as she whispers into the phone. She gives our professor an apologetic look as she slips past him to her seat.