Chapter 22 #2
She froze, back to me, shoulders shaking with the weight of it all. I pushed up, crossed the space, and caught her hand before she could pull away.
“Sav . . .” I swallowed hard, lowering my voice. “Don’t tell me you regret it. Don’t stand here and pretend you didn’t want this.”
Her hand trembled in mine. She didn’t look at me, not right away. When she finally turned, her eyes were glassy, her lips parted like she wanted to deny it — but she didn’t.
Thank fuck, because I don’t think my ego could have taken the hit.
But her silence was still louder than any answer she could’ve given me.
She pulled her hand free. “I need to go before your roommates come back.”
The words sliced through the air, sharper than a blade.
She bent to gather her shirt, quick, quiet, like each piece of fabric was a shield she could hide behind.
I didn’t move, didn’t try to stop her. My fists curled uselessly at my sides because if I touched her again, I wasn’t sure I’d let her leave.
“They’ve seen girls leave the apartment before.”
I saw it land exactly the way I hadn’t intended, but I didn’t correct it. She hesitated and then pulled her shirt on with her back to me, shoulders squared in that stiff, perfect way of hers, like armor she knew how to wear. And when she finally turned, her voice was steady again. Too steady.
“I think it’s best if we agree this never happened.” She looked down. “Or speak of it. I’ll email you the reading list for this week.”
Fuck, that was cold. My throat worked, I nodded, as I scrambled for an answer. “Cool, I look forward to it.”
She left without looking back, the door clicking shut behind her. I sat there, still tasting her on my lips, still feeling her under my touch, but hearing the echo of her silence louder than anything she’d said.
I had the intense feeling that I’d just been played.
* * *
By the time morning workouts rolled around, I’d convinced myself I could shove last night into a locked box and bury it deep.
Run harder. Lift heavier. Study film until the plays bled into each other. But her face kept sliding between everything — the plays, the film, the throws. She'd been in my bed twelve hours ago, and I could still feel it.
The guys joked around me, coaches barked orders, and I hit every drill like my scholarship depended on it. Maybe it did. But under it all was the gnawing truth.
I’d let her in. Let her slide beneath my skin and stay there. I'd told myself this wouldn't happen. I'd had reasons — good ones. And I'd walked straight past all of them the second she'd looked at me like that.
I’d lost control.
And I couldn’t afford to lose it again.
By the time we shifted into red-zone drills, my focus was shot to hell. The ball snapped, I dropped back, and read the play late — too late. Noah came barreling through, and I barely got the throw off before he swallowed me whole.
“Jesus, Spence.” Hembry’s whistle cut the air. “Quicker in the pocket or you’ll be watching from the sideline.”
I pushed up off the turf, jaw tight, shoulder aching like hell. “Yes, Coach.”
Noah offered me a hand. His brows pinched, like he could read everything I was trying to hide. “What’s in your head, man? ’Cause it sure as shit ain’t football.”
“Nothing.” I brushed him off, but the look he gave me said he didn’t buy it for a second.
Next snap, same story — Dustin broke free down the sideline, wide open, and I underthrew him by five yards. His head whipped around, frustration written all over his face.
“C’mon, Dante, that’s a gift!”
I wanted to rip my helmet off and throw it. Instead, I swallowed the fury and went back to huddle. My guys were restless, unsettled, waiting for me to get it together.
I was the starting quarterback. I didn’t get the luxury of distractions.
But right now, Savannah Cole was in every breath, every thought, every god damn mistake.
By the time practice wrapped, I was a storm in cleats. Helmet off, sweat dripping, I stalked into the locker room and dropped onto the bench, still sweating, still furious at myself.
Dustin was right behind me, still catching his breath. He tossed his gloves into his locker and spun on me. “What the hell was that out there? You missed me by half a field. Twice.”
I didn’t look at him, just yanked at the tape on my wrist. “Bad day.”
“Bullshit,” he snapped. “You don’t have bad days, Dante. You screw up a read once, fine. But that? That was like you weren’t even here.”
Noah peeled off his pads and snorted. “Told you, Dust. He’s got something on his mind.” He turned, pinning me with a stare. “So, what is it?”
I shoved the tape into my bag harder than necessary. “Drop it.”
Dustin stepped closer, arms crossed. “Nah. Not this time. We’re your guys, remember? So either you spit it out or keep tanking practice until Sutherland benches you.”
I gave Dust a ‘what the fuck’ look and he looked away.
“If what we think is happening is happening, do you think they aren’t waiting for you to fuck up?” he said under his breath. “Don’t hand it to them on a plate, man.”
The air between us felt thick and too tight.
I glanced from one to the other — my friends, my teammates, the only ones I trusted on this whole damn campus.
All I could think about was Savannah’s laugh, Savannah’s mouth, Savannah’s father watching me on Saturday night like he already knew I was a mistake.
Savannah knew too much — and instead of her being my pawn, I think I was hers.
“Fuck.” I stood up. “I’m hitting the shower.” I walked past them, furious at myself for fucking up. I’d started off so well, but the more I played today, the more I thought about her.
She’d made it pretty clear she wanted to forget it. I received an email from her late last night, with the reading list as she promised, and one line to say that would cover me for this week. She’d even reminded me that the arrangement between us was still in place.
Cold-hearted bitch. I guess she took after her father after all.
When I came out of my shower, they were both still there. Two hard stares, two immovable lines.
“Fuck my life.” I dragged a hand down my face. “You’re both insufferable bastards, you know that?”
Noah leaned in, jaw tight. “Yeah, golden boy. We do.”
I looked around the locker room, which was mostly empty, and sat down, elbows on my knees, staring at the floor like it might give me answers. Dustin and Noah were still watching me like I was a ticking bomb.
“Alright,” I muttered, raking a hand through my hair. “You want the truth? Fine. It’s Sav.”
Noah’s brows shot up. “What about Savannah?”
I gave him a sharp look. “Keep your damn voice down.”
Dustin whistled low. “Is this because you’re sneaking around with her?”
“I’m not sneaking,” I snapped, then regretted it instantly.
“Okay, maybe a little. But it’s not like—” I forced the breath out slow — “it’s serious or anything.
” Something in my chest tugged, but I shut it down hard.
Met Dustin’s stare, voice flat as stone.
“Don’t read into it. I got distracted, okay. ”
Dustin blew out a breath. “Dangerous game, man.”
“Everything we do here right now is dangerous,” I cut back, cool and sharp. “She’s no different.” I glared at him. “It was your stupid idea to get close to see what she knew.”
Noah whistled low. “That’s cold, I don’t think she’s like that.”
Neither did I, until she left my bed with the same ease as Dustin left his hookups.
“Better cold than careless.” I met his eyes without flinching. “You think the rest of this program is playing clean? You think those whispers about payouts and cover-ups are rumors? I’m not here to get blindsided because I was busy playing the wrong game.”
Dustin frowned, but he didn’t say anything else.
She wasn’t just a distraction.
She wasn’t just useful.
She was already under my skin.
And if I didn’t slam that door shut, she’d ruin me.