Chapter 31
Savannah
I should’ve been paying attention to the notes spread across the small table, but I'd found a spot in the study lounge on the top floor.
I’d told myself I was only heading to the lounge for quiet study time. But the truth? The view overlooked the practice field for the football team, and I hadn’t exactly sat facing away from it. I’d spent more time watching the team than I should.
Dante was impossible not to notice. Not because of the golden-boy quarterback thing — though, yeah, that too — but because of the way he was moving today. Sharp. Reckless. Like he was throwing at something that wasn’t there.
I knew body language. I studied governance and policy, how people wielded authority. Dante was practically writing his rebellion in ten-foot letters.
It all came to a head when Coach Sutherland barked something I couldn’t hear, but the snap in his hand gestures made the message clear: back down, run it clean.
Dante didn’t back down. He threw again — harder. The sight of the ball smacking into Dustin’s chest told me it would have been heavy. Dustin caught it, but the glare Sutherland leveled could’ve burned the grass.
“Is he . . . ?” someone beside me muttered, equally distracted from their books. “Is Spence angry?”
I didn’t answer. My throat was too tight. Because that’s exactly what it looked like.
For reasons I couldn’t let myself unpack, the thought of Dante crashing and burning made something deep in my chest clench.
From up here, I saw everything — the sharp snap of Dante’s wrist, the way his shoulders coiled and released, the precision that made people call him untouchable.
But today, it wasn’t precision. Today, it was something closer to violence.
Every ball left his hand like it was punishment.
Receivers caught them, sure, but I could feel the sting even from up here.
Coach Sutherland wasn’t impressed. I could only imagine what he was saying, because his body language was all bite and authority. He was practically stalking his number one quarterback.
Dante rolled his shoulders, jaw set, and fired again. Dustin reeled it in, but even from here, I could see the small shake of his head.
Another throw — another ball fired like a bullet. The coach stormed closer. Dante didn’t flinch. Didn’t back down. He just stared at him, another ball dangling from his fingers, defiance carved into every line of his body.
My pulse thudded. This wasn’t the quarterback they paraded in front of cameras, the golden boy smiling for donors. This was someone else. Darker. More dangerous. And for reasons I hated to admit, I couldn’t look away.
Had I done this?
I pressed my pen too hard against the page, the ink blotching. Watching him like this did something unsettling inside me. It wasn’t just recklessness. It was like he wanted the fight, and my own guilt was roiling inside me.
It made me want to run down there and stop him.
I needed to be rational. I packed my books and went downstairs to get closer to the source of my completely irrational behavior.
I walked out of the building and headed to the small food truck between the building and the training field.
“Hey, can I get a coffee?” From here, I could hear the whistles and the sound of a team training.
Coffee in hand, I made my way to the training field.
It was more crowded during the football season, but there were still a few students who enjoyed sitting in the cool February morning, watching their winning team practice.
I sat, placed my backpack beside me, and watched the remainder of practice. Another coach was beside Dante now, talking in his ear. Dante was looking down the field at the far wall, and I was pretty confident he wasn’t listening at all.
What the hell was going on?
The head coach, Sutherland, marched over. I saw the two coaches exchange words, and then Dante was sent off the field. He didn’t look around; he just headed straight toward the doors. When he walked out of sight, I looked back and saw Noah and Dustin standing together, both watching me.
“Oh shit.”
I debated moving, then I saw they were both coming over, and I knew I wasn’t faster than two athletes in their prime, so running was pointless.
Noah signaled me to come down, and I did, aware of the people nearby watching me.
“Hey.” My voice was squeaky, and I hurriedly cleared it. “How are you?”
“You need to sort him out,” Dustin said without any preamble. “He’s—”
“Fine,” Noah cut him off. “But maybe you two need to talk?”
I looked around to make sure no one was listening. “Is, um . . . is he . . .” I didn’t know how to say it without mentioning the pills, or worse, sounding like a complete self-centered ass.
“Is it because of you?” Noah asked. “No. Well . . .” He tilted his head to look at Dustin, who shrugged. “Not all of it.”
I let out a sigh at how stupid I sounded. “Wow. I . . . can usually form sentences,” I joked sheepishly, and both of them grinned. “I don’t think I’m the one he wants to talk to,” I told them both. “I . . .” I didn’t know how to say it.
“Was spying on him for your dad?” Dustin asked quietly. “Yeah, not so smart for an A-plus student.”
“I wasn’t thinking straight,” I protested weakly.
“Save it for Dante,” Noah said, his voice low. “You need to call him, or something.”
“Practice is still running.”
All three of us jumped at the sound of Coach Sutherland’s voice. Both guys were so big compared to me; I never saw him coming. Noah and Dustin stepped aside, and I saw the coach’s eyes narrow as he looked at me.
“Miss Cole?” He looked between the two players. “Are you lost?”
“I was looking for Dante,” I told him smoothly. “We meet for tutoring.”
He frowned. “Right. Ten’s off the field. One of these two will let him know you’re looking for him.” He looked at both his players. “Back to your spots, practice is still running.”
I lifted my hand in a wave as they both ran back to the field, and then realized I was still standing there with the coach.
“Do you usually chase your students around campus?”
“Um . . .” The question caught me off guard. “I was passing and heard the sounds of practice.” Not a lie . . . completely. “I thought I’d catch Dante—”
“Dante Spence is the quarterback for the Alabama Lions, practice and playing come first. Not distractions.” He scanned me once. “Do we understand each other, Miss Cole?”
My temper ignited. “I understand that your quarterback is in danger of failing a class and if he doesn’t maintain standards he becomes ineligible to play.
” I held the dark stare steady with my own.
“I am sure if you want your quarterback on your field, Coach Sutherland, you will agree I’m exactly the distraction he needs to achieve that. ”
I’ve heard the term ‘smiled like a shark,’ but I’d never seen it in person before. It was truly unsettling.
“You have a good day, Miss Cole.” Coach Sutherland turned and walked away.
I blew out a slow breath, trying to persuade my pulse to calm down. When I looked over at the field, hoping no one saw me face off against their coach, Dante was standing with his arms crossed and staring straight at me.
He held my stare for a long moment, and then he turned away. The dismissal was clear, and with a heavy heart, I left the training field.
* * *
“You’ve been quiet,” Bev said as she looked up from the cup of tea she was making.
“Have I?” I was curled up on our couch, watching reruns of Friends.
“It’s Saturday, Savannah,” she reminded me. She shot me a glance. “I heard the football guys are having a party. Do you tutor any of them?”
I looked over at her. “Subtlety isn’t your strong suit, Bev.”
She came rushing around the counter and perched herself at the edge of the couch. “Savannah, please? I’ve never been to a football party, they’ll let you in.”
I wasn’t sure they would. “Maybe if I saw Noah first—”
Her squeal was deafening. “I won’t take long to get ready.”
She was already in her room. “Guess I’m going to a party,” I muttered as I pushed myself off the couch.
I didn’t know what to wear, so I chose black skinny jeans, a fitted white T-shirt, and my black leather jacket. I decided to put on some light makeup.
My door opened just as I was putting the tube of mascara down. I know my mouth dropped open.
“Holy shit, Bev . . .” I took in the short skirt — so short — the cropped black top that made her boobs look massive, and the knee-high boots. “You look . . .”
“Fuckable?”
Who the hell is this woman? I’d never met her. “Um . . . sure.” I looked her up and down again. “I’ve never seen you like, um, this.”
She looked down at herself and beamed at me. “Yeah. This is my inner slut.”
Thank God I already looked shocked because I was sure my eyes just bugged out of my head.
Bev didn’t care. “Three years I’ve waited for an invite to a football party,” she told me eagerly. “And tonight I’m getting to go!” She danced in the spot, her hands clenched against her chest as she giggled with excitement.
“I really hope they let me in,” I muttered as I followed her out of the apartment.
I needn’t have worried; the doors to the building that housed the football and hockey teams were wide open. All we had to do was follow the noise.
The party was in the common room, like before — it was as big as a dance hall. People were everywhere, people I didn’t know, and I could see no one I recognized. I grabbed my roommate’s hand before she could dart off.
“Buddy system, lady!” I called to her, pulling her back. “I am not leaving you here, alone. Trust me.”
“But—”
“Nope. You stay with me.” I let her tug me through the crowd of people. “Bev, don’t make me tell them you shouldn’t be here!”
She stopped tugging, and we made our way to the other side of the room. She was in heaven, and I, well, I was at another function I didn’t want to be at.
The next hour was excruciating. Bev looked amazing and had plenty of interest, and I was her downer roommate who death-glared every guy who spoke to her boobs and not her.
Finally, God took pity on me in the form of tall, dark, tattooed Noah.
“Savvy?” He looked genuinely pleased to see me. I heard Bev whimper beside me as she feasted on Noah.
“Hey.” I gripped Bev’s arm. “This is my roommate, Bev. Bev, this is—”
“You’re gorgeous.”
Noah’s look of surprise was fleeting as he glanced at me quickly. “Thanks.”
I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “She’s not even drunk,” I offered lamely. Bev shook her head rapidly from side to side, holding up her can of soda.
“So, what’s the party for?” I asked, hoping to save the conversation.
“Saturday?” Noah shrugged and looked around. “I came down for the vending machine,” he admitted. “They left the doors open, anyone could walk in.”
Bev suddenly screamed, and I jumped a foot in the air.
“That’s a friend of my friend Katy. I have to show her I got in. Can I please go?”
“Please, go.” I said, and she ran off, and I was pretty sure I wouldn’t see Bev again.
“Can I please go?” Noah asked. “What’s that about?”
“She asked me to come with her. When we got here, I wouldn’t let her out of my sight. I might have been a bit overprotective.”
Noah nodded like it made sense. “You know the friend?”
“No, not really, but Bev’s not drinking, so I guess she’ll be fine.”
“Will you?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know why I came.”
“Want to get coffee?”
I looked up at him. “Yeah, that would be—”
“Noah.”
We both turned, and Dante was standing in front of us. In simple black jeans, a long-sleeved black T-shirt, and black sneakers. He looked amazing.
“Hey, we’re heading out for coffee, you want to come?” Noah asked him as if there was absolutely no tension between us at all.
Dante’s gaze flicked to mine, one clean swoop over me, and I knew he’d taken in everything. “Sure.” He looked back at Noah. “I’ll get a jacket.”
“Meet you out front,” Noah told him. He looked down at me and saw my glare. “What?”
“He isn’t talking to me,” I hissed at him.
“I know,” he said, like I was dumb. “I’m handing you an assist.”
“I don’t know what that means,” I whisper-shouted at him as he led me through the party. Walking behind Noah through the crowd was a hell of a lot easier than when Bev and I tried.
Before I knew it, I was back outside, and Noah looked like he’d just won the championship again.
“What are you doing?” I asked him plainly.
“He’s miserable, you’re pining, you need to talk.” Noah rocked back on his feet when he saw Dante coming down the stairs. “Trust me, I got you.”
“Don’t leave me with him,” I warned him. “He’s mad at me.”
Noah waved off my concerns.
Dante walked out and looked between the two of us. He’d put on a simple black jacket. “I’m ready.”
We made it three steps before Noah Freaking Matthews slapped his forehead with the performance of a man who’d planned this from the beginning.
“Forgot my phone.” He hurried to the door. “Don’t wait for me,” he called over his shoulder.
He was gone before either of us pointed out it was in his hand.
“That was not subtle,” I said as the door closed behind Noah, and we watched as he jogged easily up the stairs.
“Didn’t even try,” Dante said with a frown as he watched his roommate disappear. “I’m not sure if I’m insulted or . . . pleased he didn’t put in any effort.”
I grinned. “So . . . do you still want that coffee?”
His gaze dropped down to mine. “Do you?”
“I do.”
We held each other’s stare. “Okay then.”
We started to walk across campus. I hadn’t noticed the hoodie under his jacket, and he pulled it up and over his head as we walked. I thought he was cold, and then realized he tilted his head to the side when we passed people. He wasn’t cold — he was avoiding being noticed.
“You’re used to looking away,” I murmured.
“Easiest way to get across, sometimes,” he admitted. “I’m not ungrateful for the attention, but . . .”
“Sometimes quiet is good too.”
“Yeah.”
We reached the fork where we should turn to go to the coffee shop. Neither of us hesitated, and we both kept walking, heading to my dorm.
We walked in silence, and it felt right. At the edge of my building, I turned to him. “If we go through the front, I need to sign you in.”
“Okay.”
I nodded, my pulse picking up its pace. “Back stairs?”
“Lead the way.”