10. Chapter 11
Chapter 11
CHARLOTTE
“ H ow did Samantha get out of going to the game?” I grumble.
“Because Samantha has a date with Bar Dude,” Brynn says as we walk toward Griffin Stadium. “Besides,”?she bumps my shoulder as we join the crowd of people waiting to get in?“we all know you’re secretly dying to see Chris in his uniform.”
“Right. Just having a mini-stroke over here at the mere thought,” I say dryly.
“You know he tried to kiss her, right?” Brynn tells Liz.
“Really?” Her eyes brighten, the corners of her lips curving with a grin.
“Really,” I say with a grin. “But ask me if I let him.”
“Did you let him?” Liz asks, smile broadening.
“Nope.” We all laugh.
“That poor boy,” Brynn says with a sigh.
“Poor boy? Are we talking about the same man?” I eye her like she’s crazy.
“You know I love Chris. He’s half the reason Jace and I are even together.”
“How so? Because I was there, and I don’t remember him helping.”
“By allowing me to live with them over the summer. Who knows what would’ve happened had he not agreed to share their apartment? It was our first semester, and they were in the thick of summer conditioning. It was awfully generous to let a stranger shack up in his new place.”
“Trust me. Jace was smitten from the start. He was just in denial. One way or the other, you would’ve winded up together, roomies or not.”
Brynn’s violet eyes soften with that lovesick puppy look I’ve endured for the last year, and shrugs. “True, but for the record, Chris really is a sweetheart. You can’t do much better.”
“Did you forget his mother is marrying my father? Even if Chris wasn’t a giant thorn in my side, it would be fucking weird to go there.”
“I mean, you’re unhappy with your dad, right?” Liz asks as we hand over our tickets to the attendant.
“Unhappy is putting it mildly,” I grumble.
“Well, what better way to piss him off than to bang his future wife’s son?”
Brynn barks out a laugh while my eyes glitter. “Damn, Liz. Who knew that beneath that sweet-as-pie exterior of yours is such a dirty, vindictive side. Bravo.” I clap slowly while Liz laughs.
“Thanks, I guess?”
“Oh, it’s definitely a compliment,” I say as we traverse the stadium to the student body section.
We pass a group of shirtless guys, each with a giant letter painted on their chest, spelling out the word G-R-I-F-F-I-N-S and a throng of girls, gossiping over who’s the hottest on the team. A few names are mentioned, and Chris is one of them.
I grimace, focusing back on the conversation at hand?Chris. “And though I like where your mind is at, it’s still gonna be a no considering I’d rather dip my tits in acid than let that man grope them.”
“That’s . . . oddly descriptive,” Brynn says, rubbing a hand over her boobs.
“Right? But it’s true.” Never mind the fact that my heart thundered in my chest when we nearly kissed outside the dorms, or the fact that for one split moment, I kind of wanted him to.
We step over a couple people as we find our row and settle into our seats.
Yanking my mittens out of my pocket, I tug them on, then pull my knit hat down further over my ears. “Shit, it’s cold, and it’s only early October. Why can’t your boyfriend play a spring sport?” I ask at the same time the Griffins run out of the tunnel and the fans scream.
“I don’t know, but football uniforms do have their advantages,” Liz says.
I grunt as my eyes zero in on number twenty-four?Chris’s number?and I allow my gaze to slide down to the muscular biceps and forearms I know are roped with muscle.
My thoughts shift to the memory of him gripping the stick in his car as he shifted gears, and my gaze drops down to the navy-blue tights that hug a perfectly round ass above a set of muscular thighs and calves.
“They’re okay,” I say, at the same time Chris spins around, giving me a glimpse of his broad chest as he leaves his teammates and quickly jogs to the edge of the field.
His gaze makes quick work of the student section, zeroing in on me before I avert my eyes and shield my face with a hand as I slouch into my chair.
“Lettie!” His voice ricochets through the stadium like a bullet.
“What’s he doing? Isn’t he supposed to be with the team?” Liz asks, her voice filled with glee.
“ Le-ttie ,” he singsongs, calling me again.
What the hell?
I slouch further, but Brynn grabs the hand shielding my face and tries to lower it. “What are you doing? Chris is calling you!” she hisses.
“I’m aware, and if it isn’t obvious, I’m doing my best to ignore him.”
Brynn laughs as Chris calls my name again. “Charlotte Baker, don’t make me come up there!”
“Collins, what the hell are you doing?” Coach Greene snaps when he notices his wide receiver has gone rogue.
He’s lost his damn mind, that’s what he’s doing.
“Sorry, Coach. Just need a minute here,” he yells back.
Coach releases a string of obscenities directed at him while my cheeks burn. If I don’t acknowledge him, he’ll only make more of a scene, so I lower my hands. “What?” I snap.
“Hi.” He flashes me a goofy grin from where he’s standing in front of the first row of seats and waves, oblivious to the fans in front of him and the people gawking.
“ Hi. ” I roll my eyes, even though I doubt he can tell from his spot on the field. “Don’t you have a game to play?”
“I do.”
“Then what the hell are you doing?” I shout, feeling the weight of everyone’s eyes on me. “Go!” I shoo him away with my hands.
The whispers have already started.
Chris nods, taking a step back toward the field where his coach looks like he’s ready to explode. “Better watch,” he says as his smile widens, and he tips his chin at me, “’cause I’m gonna score a touchdown for you.”
My stomach swoops, but I swallow, dismissing him, and the butterflies rising in my stomach with a flick of the hand. “Yeah, yeah. Just go, will you?”
With a wink, he twirls around and faces his coach’s wrath before heading for the huddle.
“Damn. He’s better at this than I thought,” Brynn murmurs beside me.
“Better at what? Drawing attention to himself? I can’t say I’m surprised,” I grumble, cheeks still burning from the attention.
“Um, yeah. Exactly. That’s what I meant.”
My eyes narrow. “You’re acting weird.”
“I’m not acting weird. You’re acting weird.”
I shoot her one last look, then turn back to the field and watch as the game starts.
An hour and a box of concession stand popcorn later, the score is ten-to-seven with the Nittany Lions in the lead when the Griffins’ lineup at the ten-yard line.
Damon calls the play, then waits as the center snaps the ball. He palms the pigskin, taking his time and dancing behind the defensive line as he searches for the pocket.
Out of nowhere, Chris launches to his left, shooting down the field like a rocket, losing his defenseman. Damon rears back and throws a perfect spiral over the end zone, but it’s slightly high.
I watch, holding my breath as Chris launches himself in the air. The ball bobbles in his hands before he brings it into his chest seconds before his body collides with the ground.
The crowd around me erupts at the same time Chris jumps to his feet with the football raised in the air as he points it to where I’m sitting in the stands.
Beside me Elizabeth squeals and squeezes my arm while she bounces in her seat, unable to contain her excitement. “He did it!” she yells, then sighs. “That’s so romantic.” I can practically see her swooning. “Who knew Chris could be so freaking hot?”
Not me.
My heart pounds as I watch him jog down the field, trying to fight the warm and fuzzy feeling growing in my chest.
“I don’t understand,” I mumble, narrowing my eyes on him as he joins his teammates on the sidelines.
“Don’t understand what?” Brynn’s gaze jerks in my direction.
“Why is he doing this?” I ask again.
“Um, because he likes you and wants you to give him a chance?” Liz chimes in. “Isn’t that obvious? He’s been flirting with you for an entire year. It’s not exactly a secret.”
I cross my arms over my chest, eyes locked on him as he squirts water into his mouth from a Gatorade bottle, nodding at something his coach is telling him.
“But he never acted on it. Not until now.” And all of a sudden, he’s turning on the charm. Beside me, Brynn is quiet, and when I glance over at her, she’s chewing her lower lip. “Do you know something?” I ask her.
“Me?” She points to herself, eyes wide. “What would I know?”
“I don’t know. I mean, your boyfriend is his roommate, and you see him all the time. Maybe he’s talked about it.”
“No,” she says with a laugh. “As far as I know, he assumes you can’t stand him.” She inhales, nostrils flaring as she flaps a hand at her face. “Is it hot out here?”
“It’s freezing.”
“Hmm.” She drops her hand. “Maybe Elizabeth is right. Maybe he’s finally decided to stop beating around the bush and actually do something about it. Why? Is it working?” she asks, her tone an octave too high.
I stare at her for a beat, wondering why she seems so nervous before I shrug it off, because it’s not like it matters. “No, of course not.” I scoff at the thought as I watch him take the field again. “Chris and I would never work. He likes to get under my skin, and I like to remind him of how good he is at it. That’s our dynamic in a nutshell, and if that changes, everything else would be off balance. It would be like . . .” I wave a hand in the air, trying to come up with something that fits. “Disturbing the laws of gravity or something, I dunno. Besides, he might be my stepbrother soon.” I shiver at the thought. “And that’s just freaking weird,” I say, more to myself than anyone else, because for some reason, my gaze finds him again, and I feel like I need a little convincing.
As soon as the game ends, I hightail it out of the stadium with Elizabeth at my side while Brynn hangs back like she always does. Lovestruck that she is, she’ll wait an ungodly amount of time for Jace to emerge from the locker rooms then make out with him in the parking lot among the catcalls of his teammates.
Public displays of affection? No thanks.
“So, what’s the plan for tonight? Are we staying in?” Elizabeth shoves her gloved hands into the pockets of her coat and turns to face me as I pause on the sidewalk outside the stadium while the crowd dissipates.
“Heck no! I need to get out of the dorms and cut loose.”
If I stay in, all I’ll do is fret about whether my mother is functioning like a responsible adult, or if she’s spiraling further into the depths of despair.
“What do you have in mind? Bradd’s?”
I grimace. If we go to Bradd’s, I’m going to drink, and though alcohol is at the top of my list of things to do right now, I need to save money so I can get my car fixed over winter break. What we really need are free drinks.
“I wonder if there are any good parties?” I murmur more to myself than to Liz.
“You ladies looking for a party?” I turn at the sound, recognizing the raspy voice before my eyes zero in on him.
“Danger . . .” I take in the pink apples of his cheeks set against the rich tones of his tawny skin, and the way those golden-brown eyes heat as I soak him in.
“Damn, Charlotte, you’re a hard girl to pin down. I’ve looked everywhere for you. You could give a guy your number, so he doesn’t have to try so hard next time?”
I grin and cock my head. “You could try asking.” I remember how he said he hoped to see me at the game this weekend. Looks like he made it happen. I like a guy who can follow through.
Kind of like Chris followed through with that touchdown.
I shift on my feet, ignoring the thought, and instead focusing on Danger’s crooked grin and the dimple popping in his cheek. “Touché,” he says.
“So, you said something about a party?”
“Yeah. A group of us from the soccer team are having a little something.” He motions to the guys around him, and they nod. “They’ll be music, drinks, and food. Should be pretty chill.”
I hum in approval. “A small party sounds great. You in, Liz?” I ask, turning to her.
“Um, sure.” Elizabeth fidgets, eyeing the blond boy with the brilliant green eyes in the back.
“Great. Why don’t you give me your number and I’ll text you the details,” Danger says, handing over his phone.
I smile to myself as I enter my name and number in his contacts, then hand it back to him, lingering when our fingers brush.
I have no idea if Danger is looking for a relationship or not, but he’s easy to talk to and pretty damn nice to look at. I could do a hell of a lot worse, and my friends would be hard-pressed to say I’m only interested in him because it can’t go anywhere when he’s putting in an effort.
“You don’t mind if I bring a couple of friends?” I ask.
“If they all look like her, hell no,” the blond from behind answers as he nods toward Liz.
Laughing, I start to back up on the sidewalk as I say, “Okay, then. It’s a date.”