Against the Rules (Even The Score #4)

29. king

CHAPTER 29

KING

ONLY ONE THING I COULD DO

That was a good question.

The answer had everything to do with the girl next to me. The girl with the bright pink hair that always grabbed my attention when she took the stage and the sheen of lip gloss I never stopped stealing glances at in class. The girl who refused the Romans jerseys when offered. The girl who made my heart thud so hard, I could barely breathe when she passed me in the hallway.

I didn’t say anything, just watched her as she drew back.

"I can’t see you during the day," I admitted, a dull ringing in my ears. "I have to make up for it."

"You came for me? "

I nodded.

"King…I don’t understand. Help me understand."

The words tumbled out. "The first time, I was drunk?—"

"The first time?"

I winced, I didn’t mean to say it, but the words hung in the air, waiting for an explanation that wouldn’t end the questions. How could I be so stupid? Following her once was one thing. This was another.

"You—you’ve come to other shows?" she finally asked. "How many?"

I had to tell her the truth.

"Every show. Every mic. The only ones I missed were because of Jasmine."

Willow touched her chest. "You have to realize how bad this is. Tell me you do."

I winced again. Slowly, I nodded.

"No, you don’t. This is just as bad as sleeping with me. Actually—it’s worse ." Her eyes flickered to mine, and with a start, I realized she wasn’t angry at all. She looked scared for me. "If the team found out about this—if Lawson found out about this—you could get in so much trouble."

Silence hung in the car. She wasn’t even looking at me anymore. Her eyes were fixed on the dashboard while I took her in. So beautiful.

"So you…?" She struggled with her question and I braced for it. There were so many things she could have concerns about. "You know about Mean ? —? "

" Mean Motherfucker? "

"Oh my god."

"It’s on my gym playlist."

She put her head in her hands then threw me a hard look. "Why am I embarrassed right now? You know what, King? I liked Tattoos. He was kind and nice and funny and the sweetest guy I’ve ever met, but King? I don’t like him. I don’t like you . You’ve been nothing but an asshole to me, so what is this? You won’t fuck me, but you’ll stalk me?"

"I—I don’t know how to talk to you, Willow."

"Talk about what? "

"You don’t know how disappointing it was to find out who you are. It was a punch in the gut. The one girl I want is the one girl I can’t have. I miss you so fucking much, it hurts." I raked my hand through my hair. "I miss your laugh. I miss talking to you for hours. I miss making all these plans because I didn’t want a hookup, I wanted you. I want you so fucking badly, I’m doing the most reckless shit I can to see you."

Her dark eyes softened.

"I don’t know if I believe you," she confessed.

"It’s the truth."

"Yeah? Like no social media?"

"Ah—shit."

Her eyes narrowed. "What every woman wants to hear."

"Wait, Willow, I did lie about that." I wracked my brain, trying to think of a quick way to smooth it over. "I didn’t tell you because it connects with the football-playing lie."

"I know about your girlfriend too. Want to try explaining that?"

I blinked. "My what? "

"Your ex-girlfriend. Whatever." She crossed her arms and I could feel the hurt pulsing from her. "Three years without any, you must think I’m an idiot. I know all about June Basil."

For too long, I stared at her. There was no way June would come between Willow and I—how fucking ironic was that? For how many times June hyped me up to go out and find someone?

The laugh burst out from deep in my stomach and almost doubled me over. "Willow, she was my fake girlfriend!"

It was the real answer but in every conceivable way it sounded like a lie. I could see that plainly on Willow’s face. She shoved the door open and left.

Shit.

I leaped out of the truck, right into the rain.

"Leave me alone, I’ll leave you alone." She brushed me away, pink hair already slick against her face. "That’s what you wanted in the first place, remember?"

"Wait, Willow, I’m sorry?—"

"I’m leaving. I’m calling Elijah."

That was the last of the things I needed in my life, Elijah Contractor rescuing Willow from me. That hockey player could get fucked. Every time I saw him sitting all cozy next to her in class, I wanted to throw a desk at him.

"Give me two minutes." I stopped her, holding out my phone. "Open up my email. Pull up the NDA, the scheduling, texts with June, anything you want, I don’t care."

She hesitated. "NDA?"

"If you want me to beg, I’ll beg. Just look."

"King, you lied about being a football player, you lied about social media, you lied about June, you have been so fucking cold to me." She turned back to me, a hopeless look on her face. "And the girl with the boyfriend who you’re so into?—"

"That’s you."

"Yeah, sure?—"

"I couldn’t tell my friends the real reason it wouldn’t work out so I told them you had a boyfriend. But it’s you. You’re the angel at the bar. You’re the girl all my friends know I’m obsessed with. You’re all I think about." I finally got her to take my phone. "The passcode is J-A-D-E."

She hesitated. "What?"

"The passcode for my phone. It’s your name."

Confused, Willow typed in the passcode with her hand above it to catch most of the droplets. Light flooded her face. I didn’t say anything. I just waited. Slowly, she clicked things on my phone, glancing up at me while she scanned over the words.

"Is this…real? A fake relationship?"

I nodded.

"King, I’ve been going to football games since I was six months old. What part of football do you need a fake relationship for?"

This was the part where I needed to tell her everything so she could make the correct decision to stay the hell away from me.

But for my whole life, everything I did was for the big picture. Football or my friends or my family. If I did anything, it was for the end goal of somebody else. Willow was the first good thing I had for me .

I wanted to be selfish. That selfishness pushed my decisions.

There was nothing I wanted more than her.

"I’m not like Ryan and Adam and June, I don’t come from money. I don’t come from anything. The program thought a fake relationship was best for my image. Marrs is one of the few schools where I can get royalties off my name and now my family never has to worry about money so…I thought it was stupid, but I would’ve done anything they asked."

Not the entire truth, but it was enough.

Willow’s eyes widened. Those big, beautiful eyes, dark brown, deep enough to sink into.

She passed me my phone. "I didn’t know that."

"You can read all my messages. I don’t care."

"I read enough. God, no wonder Elijah pushed it. It’s a real thing. You guys actually do fake relationships here."

I froze. "Pushed what?"

"It’s dumb, he wants us to go on a couple of dates to impress a girl. I couldn’t figure out where he got the idea?—"

" No. "

The word jolted out of me like I’d been waiting to use it. I didn’t even know where it came from.

Willow squinted in the rain. "Yeah, I told him no."

"That jackass," I swore under my breath, fuming. "He’s doing this on purpose."

"He’s trying to get Sloane’s attention?—"

"I’m sure that’s what he told you."

"King, this whole turf war is so stupid."

"He’s stupid."

"Elijah’s my friend ."

The idea that Willow would even consider something like that sent me spiraling. Because Elijah would hold her hand and pull her on his lap and the more time they spent together, the closer they’d get, and the more he would realize how special she was until he’d make a real move?—

Fuck, fuck, fuck ? —

I grabbed her shoulder and kissed her.