Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
SINCLAIR
T im and Rafael pick us up outside of our dorm hall. And when I say pick up, I mean they walked over from the frat house and met us on campus so we could all go to the stadium together. It’s a crisp night, with a chill in the air brought on by a gentle breeze, and I grabbed a sweatshirt just in case. Tim takes one look at me carrying it around and shakes his head.
“You won’t need that.”
“Why not?” I frown, glancing over at Rafael and Elise to find him nuzzling his face into her neck, and she can’t stop giggling. I’m guessing those two are going to maul each other all night.
Great.
“It’s a surprise.” Tim’s voice is smug, his expression not giving anything away, and I decide not to press. I’m not a big fan of surprises, but I don’t think the one he’s planning is going to be bad.
At least, I hope it’s not.
Mr. Golden God finally stops trying to grope Elise and we all chat as we make our way to the stadium. The closer we get, the more crowded the area becomes and the line to get into the stadium is long. Tim doesn’t lead us to the line though. Instead, he goes over to the ticket box office, stopping in front of the window that says Will Call.
“We have tickets waiting for us,” Tim says with utter confidence.
“You bought tickets in the student section, right?” Elise asks.
“Nope. Somewhere better,” Tim answers, just before he starts talking to the woman sitting behind the glass.
“I love the student section.” Elise mock pouts. “Everyone buys you beer and you can get really drunk with no judgment.”
“We have great seats, babe.” Rafael winds his arm around Elise’s waist and starts groping her again, which she allows freely. “Trust me.”
Never trust a man who says trust me is my immediate thought, but I keep it to myself.
“Okay.” Tim approaches us, holding up four actual tickets. “Let’s go.”
We follow him into the stadium, going up the stairs that lead to the top. Elise is complaining the entire time, bitching about nosebleed seats and how she’d rather sit with people our age than with a bunch of old fogey alumni who’ll get mad at her for yelling too loudly.
“We’re not sitting in the nosebleeds.” Her Golden God sounds irritated. “We’re in the suite, okay?”
“Damn it, Rafe. I didn’t want you to spoil the surprise.” Tim almost stomps his foot, he’s so mad. “The frat has a box suite and we got tickets to it.” He says this directly to me, ignoring Elise.
“Wait, a box suite?” Elise grabs hold of Tim and hugs him. “That’s amazing!”
“I got the tickets too, babe,” Rafael whines.
I’m starting to think I really don’t like that guy .
“Oh, and you did a good job, baby.” Elise wraps her arms around him and holds him close. “I can’t wait to see this suite!”
We walk along the corridor that wraps around the upper level of the stadium and are on the other side before Tim finally turns to the aisle and shows our tickets to the employee who’s checking. The older man nods and hands them back to Tim. “Have a great time.”
Within seconds, we’re in the suite, and it’s nice. Tim and Rafael seem awestruck by the entire situation but considering the frat they’re in, I’d assume they come from money. Pretty much everyone on this campus either comes from tremendous wealth or they’re extra smart and got in on a scholarship. Neither Tim nor Rafe strike me as particularly intelligent, so I have to go with their family’s wealth is what got them into this school.
“Look at all the TVs!” Tim is bounding around the suite like an overexuberant puppy. “And the food. What a spread!”
The other people milling about the suite are watching the boys—because that’s what they’re acting like, complete boys—with barely concealed contempt. Elise is already standing in front of the table that’s basically a giant charcuterie board, a plate clutched in her hand as she’s loading up on a variety of meats and cheeses.
I offer an apologetic smile in the direction of an older couple who are wearing matching concerned expressions. I can tell they’re loaded. She has on so much jewelry I’m nearly blinded by all the diamonds winking at me. I have no idea who they are, but they look important. Everyone in this suite looks important, save for us.
How did Tim and Rafael get tickets to this again?
After I load my plate with mostly crackers and fruit, I go over to the bar and get a Coke, not in the mood to drink tonight. Elise joins me in seconds, requesting a Tito’s and soda with a twist of lime and the moment the bartender hands the drink over, she slams it back.
“You should probably slow down—” I start, but she whirls on me, her expression serious.
“Don’t start. I’m letting loose and having fun tonight.” She leans in close to me and practically shouts in my ear. “Free alcohol, Sinclair! We have to take advantage.”
Oh dear.
Tim and Rafe join us at the bar, Tim chewing with his mouth open as he orders a beer for both of them. He grins at me and I swear I see bits of yellow cheese between his teeth and I shouldn’t judge. He’s nice and he’s funny and he’s harmless. I can’t help but recoil inside though, faintly disgusted at the fact that he’s eating like a slob and acting like he has no class.
Maybe Elise and Tim and everyone else are right. Maybe I am intimidating and I come off snotty. And Elise is definitely right when she says I throw up walls to protect myself from getting too close to anyone. There’s no one I want to get close with. Not even Elise at the moment, because she’s acting so different around her “new man,” ugh.
Is it because they just had sex and now she’s worried about keeping him interested? I think it’s a good sign that he’s taking her out tonight. But then again, I don’t like how possessive he acts around her. Always grabbing at her and trying to kiss her, even when she’s squealing and trying to get away from him. The way he keeps calling her babe too. I find that annoying. They’ve gone on a couple of dates, if you can call it that, and they’ve had sex once. Now they’re acting like they’re already a couple? It’s odd.
My gaze shifts to Tim to find he’s still watching me, his brows furrowed and the expression on his face makes me think he can’t figure me out. Which is fine. I can’t figure me out either .
“You okay?” He slides closer to me, his hand coming close to mine, and I jerk away before he can touch me, grabbing a grape from my plate and popping it into my mouth.
“I’m great!” My voice is overly bright and terribly fake and I realize I am talking with my mouth full just like him. “Why do you ask?” I say only after I’ve chewed and swallowed the grape. Hoping he gets the hint.
“You seem almost like you’re…embarrassed by us. All of us.” He points at Rafe and Elise, who are currently cuddling together in front of the bar, Elise hand-feeding Rafael a piece of salami while the bartender watches them with amusement.
“I’m not embarrassed.” I paste a smile on and grab my Coke, taking a sip of it.
“What are you drinking? Jack and Coke? Oh, maybe rum and Coke. Am I right?”
I nod. “Yep.” I have a feeling they’ll think I’m weird for not drinking and I don’t want to make myself stand out any more than I already do.
“Cool. You need a refill?” He turns toward the bartender like he’s going to make a request and I rest my hand on his arm, stopping him.
“I’m fine. Really.” I send him a soft smile, which works. He softens too. I can even feel the tension leave his arm beneath my hand and I wonder if he was nervous. If he was trying to impress me.
Probably.
“Want to go sit and watch the game?” he asks.
“Sure.”
We take our plates and drinks and head over to the stadium seating that’s right in front of the window that overlooks the stadium. The first quarter has already started and we settle into seats that are far from where the rest of the people are sitting.
“Don’t really know them so…” Tim shrugs as he settles into the seat next to mine, his elbow jabbing into me and nearly se nding my plate to the ground. A little yelp leaves me and I save some of the food, but most of it is on the floor. “Shit, Sinclair. I’m sorry. Want me to get another plate for you?”
“No, it’s o—” I start, but he’s already gone, leaving me alone.
Sipping from the skinny straw in my glass, I keep my gaze fixed on the field below, watching the teams scramble around. I have zero concept of what happens during a football game and I sit forward, wishing I understood at least a little bit. My dad wasn’t much of a football fan and never watched it when he was home, which was a rare occurrence.
My father was always working, always trying to come up with a business idea that would make him millions—direct quote. When I was in middle school, he did. And once the business took off, he was never around. My older brother had graduated and went off to college and Mom was always either with my dad or her friends. Meaning I spent a lot of time alone.
That’s sad. I’m sad. A sad little, lost, rich girl who doesn’t have any feelings and will most likely die a virgin because not even the overly-friendly Tim knows quite how to handle me.
“Jesus, that guy is a wreck.”
All the hairs on the back of my neck rise and I swear my heart settles itself in my throat, making it hard to speak. I’d recognize that voice anywhere. It haunts my dreams. And my nightmares.
I’m hearing things. I have to be. He’s not here. He would have zero reason to be here. Last I recall, he hated football and I’m sure he still does. Right?
“Are you dating him, Sin? Really? You know you could do much better,” August drawls as he settles into the chair right next to mine.
Right.
Next
To.
Mine .
“What the hell are you doing here?” I whisper, trying not to look at him. Oh God, I can smell him though. And I can feel him too. His thigh is pressed next to mine and it’s just as firm and as thick as I remember it. His body heat radiates, making me want to cozy up to him, and that is the most insane thought I think I’ve ever had in my life.
“It’s the frat’s suite. I come to the occasional game or two.” He slouches in his chair, resting his elbow on the arm rest, right next to mine, and I don’t move. It’s like I can’t.
It’s like I don’t want to.
“For some reason I didn’t think you’d like football,” I murmur.
“My cousin is marrying the top pick for the upcoming NFL draft. I’ve learned to love football.”
I finally turn my head to look in his direction, finding it hard to believe he loves football, as he claims. It was a huge mistake, looking at him. My gaze meets his, drowning in those pretty blue eyes, hating the amusement I see there. All of it at my expense.
“Are you impressed with the suite?” he asks. “That’s all Tim wanted—was to impress you.”
Realization dawns. He did this on purpose. “You gave Tim the tickets?”
“They were going to waste tonight.” He shrugs. “I thought I’d make his weekend with the offer.”
“You don’t give a shit if tickets go to waste or not.” What was his ulterior motive? It wasn’t to…see me, was it?
No. Impossible.
“Oh, but I do.” His expression is serious, as is his voice.
I glance around, looking for a stray female around our age, but I don’t see one. “Where’s your girlfriend?”
He frowns. “My girlfriend ? I don’t have one.”
“Then whose lipstick was that in your room?” I shouldn’t care. Nope, I shouldn’t, but I sound like a jealous cow and I’m so annoyed at myself. I wish I could take it all back.
August laughs, making me feel like a joke. “That’s our housemother’s lipstick. She keeps the frat in line. Yolanda has been there for years. She wears this really dark stuff and she owns about fifty tubes of it. Leaves them all over the house.”
“Uh huh.” I don’t believe him. His housemother. Please.
“I’m serious.” He looks pissed that I don’t believe him and I kind of like it.
“Yo, Lancaster. Prez. What are you doing here?” Tim plops into the seat on the other side of me, handing over a fresh plate with a variety of picks from the charcuterie board. “I didn’t think you’d show up.”
“Of course I would. I love football.” August grins at Tim while jabbing his elbow into my side. “Right, Sin?”
“Sin?” Tim’s eyes go wide as he studies us. “I never put that together. That her name could be Sin.”
“Of course you didn’t.” August keeps that smile on his face, but I see the glimmer of meanness in his gaze. I recognize it and a tiny flicker of fear lights within me. “You don’t notice a lot of things, huh, Timmy?”
Tim laughs and chugs from the can of beer clutched in his hand. “I guess I don’t. Oh, what the fuck!” He jumps to his feet as the rest of the people watching the game start shouting while August doesn’t say a word. Neither do I.
He’s staring at me, his attention not on the game and the bad call that was just made. He could not care less because this man doesn’t care about football at all. He doesn’t like it. I know he doesn’t. I don’t either. There’s another reason he came to this game tonight—this suite.
And maybe this is my ego talking, but I think his reason has everything to do with me.