Chapter 3
3
Sophie
T he email pops up in the corner of my screen as the economics teacher drones on. As soon as I see the subject line— Regarding your extra credit —I open it.
To: Sophie Adams
Just wanted to let you know that Professor Maxwell has approved an extra credit opportunity. Please come by during office hours to discuss the instructions for the assignment.
Regards,
TA Travis Hunt
The formality of it strikes me. The indifference ringing loud in his tone. Every word is void of emotion or interest. Though, what did I really expect? I shot him down more than once yesterday. He probably doesn’t like me much anymore. And after I made my stance on how I feel about dating football players, he may be truly offended. As soon as I got back to the dorm last night, I did a little digging and learned that he just earned the Heisman last year, which is indicative of the fact that he’s one of the best players in the country. It also proves that football is much more than a hobby to him. It’s going to be his career. Not marketing as I assumed—and was hoping.
Though, after scrolling through his social media, I didn’t get the impression he’s the typical jock. He didn’t have pictures posted of himself with girls. Or a ton of selfies showing off his ripped body. He mainly posts pictures of cool marketing designs he’s come across in public: products, billboards, things that have caught his attention. It all painted a very different picture than I expected. There’s also the fact that he has no real reason to be a TA with his football career on the horizon, but he still worked for the position. And I’ve already researched what it takes, so I know TA positions aren’t easy to come by.
But even if he is different from the typical jocks I’ve come across, it still doesn’t make him safe for my heart.
As soon as class is dismissed, I head straight to Travis’s office, feeling more anxious with every step I take. I approach the open door, getting a flutter in my stomach when I see him sitting behind his desk, typing away on his computer. He looks so professional in his khaki pants and button-down shirt with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Such a striking contrast to the guy who was dressed in his jersey last night with a beer bottle in hand.
“Are you going to just stand there and stare, Ms. Adams? Or would you like to come in?” His head lifts from his screen and that anxious excitement tingles down my spine as our eyes connect. There’s no denying the attraction. It pricks over my skin like a spark of energy. Temptation raising the hairs on my arms. But the heat will burn me alive. And I’ve already been burned once.
I step into his office and take a seat. “You said Professor Maxwell agreed to let me do an extra credit assignment?”
He shifts forward on his desk, and his cologne teases my senses. A hint of pine with a splash of rugged masculinity. Dominant. Sexy… Tempting.
“Are you usually this friendly with everyone who tries to help you out, Ms. Adams?”
The air retracts inside my lungs. He’s right. Just because I don’t want to date him, doesn’t mean I need to be rude.
“I’m sorry. I’m not trying to be rude.” I’m just trying to get out of here before your charming smile lands its attack.
“That’s okay, pretty girl. You’re forgiven. I know you’re just mad because you’re attracted to me.”
“Wow. You really are presumptuous, mister.” I cross my arms, annoyed at how spot-on his assessment is. He’s unreasonably good-looking, and it’s hard to keep my guard up when his dimples make an appearance like they are right now.
“We’ll see if I’m wrong on my assumption.” He tips his chin. “After you spend the evening with me tonight, you might change your mind about us ‘football players,’ after all.”
I’m not sure what he’s talking about, but if that’s his way of asking me out on another date, my answer is still no.
“Your assumption is wrong because I’m not going out with you. I’ll be home studying tonight.”
“So, I guess you don’t want the chance of earning extra credit?”
He can’t be serious. Now, he’s going to hold my grade over my head to get what he wants?
“Are you trying to blackmail me into a date?”
“It’s not blackmail, Ms. Adams.” His smirk has me calling his bluff. “I think the best way to learn is by real life experience, don’t you?”
It sounds like there’s a much different motive behind his smooth voice and the mischievous look burning in his dark eyes.
“I think you’re trying to manipulate me into going out on a date with you.” And I will not date someone based on coercion.
“I’ll tell you what.” He shifts closer. “If you can sell me on the fact that I shouldn’t take you out tonight, we’ll consider your assignment completed and you’ll get your A. Now, you have one minute to give me your pitch, Ms. Adams. So, do your worst.”
This should be easy. And I don’t need a minute. Ten seconds is all it will take for him to realize I’m not worth his time.
“I’m not going to sleep with you, Travis. I’m not easy like the girls you’re probably used to. So, sex is off the table.” The next time I sleep with someone, I’m going to know that he’s the one I’m spending the rest of my life with. I don’t think I could give myself over to someone until my heart feels completely safe. And Travis…he’s graduating at the end of the year and moving on to bigger and better things.
“Told you last night, Sophie, I’m not interested in a one-night stand, nor do I want easy, so you’re going to have to do better than that.”
It’s hard for me to believe a guy as good-looking as him who’s probably used to sex on the regular would be okay with waiting, but fine. I’m sure my emotional baggage will have him running scared.
“I’m broken, Travis.” The words almost get strangled in my throat, as the raw feeling twists in my stomach. “My wounds run so deep you wouldn’t even be able to dig your way past my insecurities. I don’t trust easily, and by the time I believe you could actually be interested in me, your patience will have run dry.” And my heart will be left in pieces again.
The smile is no longer lighting up his face. I think my pitch was a success. Though, I kind of wish it wasn’t that easy to chase him away. No amount of bracing myself for the impact actually stops the blow from hurting.
“Hate to break it to you, but you failed the assignment. If you think that scares me, you’re wrong. I don’t want perfect, Sophie. I want real and honest. Not a plastic smile covering up the truth of what lies beneath the surface. You may see your insecurities as flaws, but I see them as beauty marks. And the fact that you just shared that with me, proves just how strong you are.”
His handsome face is now a blurry mirage of hope and kindness. I’m desperately clinging to every word, wanting it to be the truth. Wanting to believe this isn’t a tactic. Some kind of ploy to get me into bed. But my trust meter is broken. I no longer know what’s a line or what’s real.
“Just give me a chance, Soph. All I’m asking is for a chance to get to know you better.”
A tear finds its escape and slides down my cheek before I can catch it. Maybe this emotional break will finally have him changing his mind. Most girls don’t start crying when a gorgeous guy asks them out. But I’m a mess.
He rises from his chair, walking around his desk, and crouches down before me. “All I’m asking for is a dinner.” His strong hand cups around my chin, thumb swiping away the drip of my pain, and the soft caress is almost my undoing. “You can trust me, Sophie.”
Since the night that Maddock broke my soul, I’ve felt like I was dead inside. I’ve been walking through my days clouded by darkness. My heart feeling cold and numb. But there’s a tiny ray of excitement trying to peek its way through the clouds and I’m so desperate to grab onto it. What if this is real? What if he’s truly interested in me and I’m letting someone amazing slip through the cracks? It’s just dinner. In a public place. And a girl needs to eat.
“Your pitch was perfect.” I smile. But it’s still to be determined if he can deliver on his brand promise. Only time will tell to know whether I can trust him or not.
“So, does that mean you’ll have dinner with me tonight?”
I nod, and his dimples ignite a pitter-patter inside my chest. I can honestly say I’m excited about our date tonight. But I need to be careful not to let that feeling run loose.