Chapter 4
Seth
Present day
After my last class of the day, I cross the quad and head into the Harvey building to meet Christian.
I spot him waiting outside Shelby’s classroom, leaning against the wall, distracted by his phone.
It’s clear he’s trying to ignore the stares from the crowd of freshmen and sophomores filling the space.
His head looks up as I approach, and we shoot each other a head nod in greeting. “Hey, brother.”
“Hey,” I reply.
I take a stance next to Christian and help support the wall, as a brunette walks by and shoots me a wave.
No idea who she is, so I give her a brief head nod.
The classroom doors swing open across from us, and I spot the striking blonde step out.
Christian gets that goofy-ass grin he always wears when he sees his girl after more than two hours apart.
He slips his phone into his pocket and greets Shelby.
“Hey there, Sethy boy,” she says, pulling me into a side hug
I drape one lazy, heavy tattooed arm around her shoulder and bring her into my body before releasing her.
Christian grabs for her hand as we all walk back toward the exit.
I’m eager to get home after an early training session.
Coach pushed us hard, hence the reason I wanted a lift today.
I knew where Christian would be, never far from his girl.
Shelby and Rachel aren’t my girlfriends, but even I know their class schedules.
I know where Walsh’s building is, but it’s way across campus and honestly, home would be closer.
So, some days I walk; other days, I find my friends standing like love-sick idiots outside their girls’ classes and grab a lift.
With how intense training’s been lately, odds are I’ll be hitching more rides than not.
I love my bike, but with my books and gym bag, it’s just not practical.
We all want this Championship badly, it stung so much to lose last season, but with Christian as the new Raptors captain, I fully believe we can.
The man is born to lead and with Randy as quarterback and the two of them playing together since they were ten, they can predict each other.
Watching them on field together, knowing each other so well is like nothing else; they move in time with each other, effortless and easy.
I yawn and stretch my back, with nonstop classes today my brain is fried.
I watch the student body automatically part for us.
For as long as I can remember it’s been like this, even in high school.
Add being a senior, having the Raptors captain walking next to me and making the news for tackling a gun wielding psycho it’s even more noticeable.
Which is why on this day when I stare down at the vacant path in front of me it’s so easy to spot her. Abigail Lewis.
She taps away at her phone oblivious to my presence.
She’s pretty and delicate like a flower.
Her brunette hair is pushed back from her face with hair clips, wearing denim shorts and a blue shirt.
The irony doesn’t miss me with the colored shirt she is wearing.
My whole body is tattooed black, the only color is a blue bird on my inner arm, the exact same blue she is wearing now.
My steps falter slightly and it doesn’t go unnoticed.
“You okay, man?” Christian asks beside me.
I give him a brief nod, one even I don’t believe, as they follow my line of sight. Abigail’s eyes glance up, her lips part—nervous, caught off guard—but she composes herself quickly.
She says, “Hey, Seth, “her voice sweet and vivid in my memory.
“Abigail.” My voice comes out deep, rougher than usual.
Like it’s almost painful to say her name aloud.
I tower over her, like I always have. I’m six-foot-five, so I dwarf most people, but she’s something else.
Tiny, sure. But the only person in the world who truly scares me.
Because she’s the only one I ever let fully into my heart—before I shattered it.
People see me as an intimidating tight end, covered in tattoos.
And yeah, I get it. I look menacing. I tower over everyone.
I smoke too much, drink too much, fuck when I feel like it.
And my Harley? She’s sacred. Don’t fucking touch her.
But my friends know the real me, the quiet version that doesn’t match the exterior.
The one who studies medicine into the early hours, trying to heal people, not hurt them.
They’ve also heard about the girl standing in front of us.
Not the story, just the name. No face. No details. Just one word: Abigail.
She hesitates, then rises onto her tiptoes and pulls me into a brief hug.
Her scent hits instantly tropical coconut exactly how I remember it.
She feels the same and in that moment with her body pressed against mine, all our intimate history comes rushing back.
Misplaced memories or maybe forced recollections pushed deep down but as quickly as she is in my arms she is gone again. Not that I blame her, I broke her.
Christian stands with an all-knowing smile on his face, his index finger rubbing over his brow at this awkward situation.
Shelby seems more concerned, like she knows how hard this moment is for me right now.
At least I should be grateful it’s just these two and not Randy, because no doubt he would make this situation way more fucking awkward with his big mouth.
“Christian, Shelby—this is Abigail.”
“Hey,” they both reply, as I watch them take her in.
“I know who you guys are,” she says, accepting Christian’s handshake and returning Shelby’s smile. “It’s nice to meet you.”
Abigail knows who the happy couple are, of course she does.
Everyone does. They’re basically celebrities around here after the kidnapping last year.
The sick freak who snatched Shelby from her dorm and left Letti unconscious on the bedroom floor.
It made international headlines. I’m just thankful Christian, Randy, Walsh, and I found them when we did—and were able to take him down.
The police praised our efforts. And the news of me tackling a gun-wielding psychopath only fueled my intimidating reputation.
“Sooo, Christian and I might go grab some coffee. Did you guys want to come? Or we can catch up with you later?” Shelby’s question cuts through my thoughts, her eyes flicking nervously in my direction.
How long have I been staring at her?
“I have to go to class,” Abigail replies, “but thank you anyway. It was nice to meet both of you. I’m glad you weren’t hurt last year,” she says gesturing to Shelby.
“Thank you,” Shelby smiles.
“Bye Seth,” Abigail says as she detours around me taking a wider birth then necessary.
Like a statue I stand there unable to move or process what just happened. Feeling Christian’s eyes on me I shoot him a pointed look as he starts to laugh at my reaction to Abigail.
Fucker. This isn’t me. This isn’t how I react to women, but then Abigail has always been the exception.
Clearly time hasn’t changed that. When I turn around to find her, she has made it halfway down the corridor and is about to enter her class.
Her silky brunette hair flows down to her back, and I feel physical pain in my chest watching her walk away from me.
“Abigail!” I call out, turning and jogging toward her. Students glance my way as she stops and slowly turns. She takes a deep breath as I stride closer, my steps eating up the distance between us.
“Can I talk to you?” I ask, leaning down slightly.
She sighs, her gaze flicking around the hallway, avoiding me completely.
“Please,” I add.
Her fingers tighten around the laptop in her arms, knuckles turning white. “I have class,” she says.
“I’ll wait.”
Her eyes finally find mine. “Why?”
“There are just some things I need to say.”
“It’s fine. Don’t bother,” she replies, turning into her classroom.
I don’t move. I don’t breathe. I just stand there, watching that door like it might swing back open. It doesn’t. And for the first time today, I feel small.