Chapter 1 #2
“Not God, just me,” I said, flashing her my cocky smile, expecting an eyeroll or a punch on the arm, like when we usually bickered. But my joke was met with empty blue eyes.
“Can we please just go?”
The fact that both Brines siblings used the word 'please' made me concerned.
“Your wish is my command,” I went on, determined to force a smile from her, but Rosie just sighed and slid deeper into the seat.
Her eyes scanned the quiet road as we passed, and sadness washed over me as I watched her.
“Penny for your thoughts?” I offered, unsure how to proceed. Rosie and I had an easy-going friendship last semester, but we drifted apart during the summer.
Plus, I wasn’t used to people being emotional around me. Everyone was usually cheerful when I was there, and my funny comments helped lighten the mood. This was a first, and I was way out of my depth.
For one, I never dealt with emotional girls, as I never in my life had a girlfriend. Hookups, yes, plenty. Girlfriends, never.
Secondly, I never had a younger sibling who needed to be cared for or who expressed any emotion I needed to learn to manage. When one of the guys was sad, we usually just got hammered. No big deal.
And thirdly, Rosalie didn’t fall into any of these categories. She was my friend and a great support system over the last semester when I was dealing with my ACL surgery. I cared about her, and I liked to think we were close. I knew she was dealing with her fair share of shit as well.
But then her body language shifted as she crossed her arms again and closed off.
“No thanks,” she shook her head, still not meeting my eyes.
A low sigh escaped me, and I was about to start begging or probing or coming up with any strategy to get her to tell me what the hell happened, when she turned to look at me.
Her blue eyes shimmered with unshed tears.
“Just… distract me, please,” she said, using that damned ‘please’ again. “Talk about something… anything.”
“I just talked to my doctor,” I told her the first thing that came to my mind without thinking too hard.
“They told me I need to do some Pilates exercises to help with mobility and strengthening. So, I’m going to check out this studio in town and see if I can do 1-on-1 or something similar.
I don't really want to do big group classes or anything like that. I have soccer practice, and I want to make sure I can do it on my own time. Plus, I’m sure it will be full of girls.
Which is cool with me, but at the same time, I need to focus on getting better instead of flirting, so the safest option is a 1-on-1 class.
I’m going to go there tomorrow and check it out.
Want to come? You can be my emotional support. ”
Rosalie let out the quietest chuckle. “Are you talking about Flex and Flow?”
“Is that what that place is called?” I gaped at her. “What a horrible name.”
A small smile tugged at the corner of her lips. “I go there, it’s amazing. I did my certification over the summer, and I’m going to start teaching there as well.”
“Nice,” I whistled. “Want to give me a 1-on-1 lesson? Also, didn’t you want to do that barre thing? The ballet workout…” I forced my brain to think about what she told me, but I came up short.
“Barre, yes,” she nodded. “I can’t believe you remember.
I love barre. It’s a ballet-inspired workout, but Pilates is fun too.
I’ve been doing it since I was doing ballet; it's great for cross-training, and most of the routines I make are half-ballet-inspired. I think they are going to call my class ‘Ballet Pilates’.”
“That’s exciting, Rosie.”
She offered me a sweet smile. I liked to see her face, and my racing heartbeat settled a bit. Things were returning to normal.
“So, about that private lesson?” I wiggled my brows suggestively, and it did the trick because she let out a low chuckle.
“I can think about it, I’m not that experienced, so I’m worried about destroying you.”
“Don’t you worry, babe, I’m indestructible.”
She actually laughed this time, but there was no humor laced in her tone.
“Sure… that’s exactly how your injury looked.”
I grimaced, but I couldn’t even get upset with her. She was right and at least bringing me down helped her forget about her problems for a while.
“Ouch,” I rubbed my hand over my aching heart. “That hurt, Rosebud.”
“Sorry,” she shook her head and leaned her head onto the headrest. “I’m just not in the mood for jokes. Had enough of those for one night.”
Reaching out, I touched her arm gently, worried she might pull away, but instead she offered a faint smile.
“Will you tell me what’s happened?” I asked, lowering my voice.
“No,” she shook her head, her curls covering half of her expression. “You’ll laugh.”
“I would never do that, and you know it.”
“You make fun of everyone all the time,” she pointed out my biggest personality trait and fault.
I shrugged. “Everyone, except you.”
There it was: the famous eyeroll I had grown so accustomed to last year whenever I remotely tried flirting with her. The side of my lip tipped up in satisfaction at watching her slowly become herself again.
“I'm serious, Thorn. I would never make fun of you.”
Rosie met my eyes, and I saw the heavy sadness within them. Her lip trembled as she forced herself to swallow hard and shook her head.
“I thought I could do this whole college thing, but I can't,” she muttered.
“You're doing great,” I encouraged her lightly. “I know you are. You party, you have friends.”
Rosalie scoffed. “The only 'friends' I have are the ones I met because of Aaron. I hate all the parties I go to, but I still go because that's what college is about. And the guys all suck here. All they want to do is hook up. Why can't I find a good guy like Liam?”
The mention of my teammate, who was still with his high school sweetheart, really hit me. We all wanted what he had: someone who was in his corner all the time.
“Like, I don't even drink,” Rosie went on.
“You're not 21,” I injected, and she rolled her eyes again. Two in a row, I must be doing something right.
“It has nothing to do with that. I hate the taste of beer; I feel like vomiting from the smell alone. Wine tastes like juice that went bad, and every hard liquor tastes like cleaning products.”
I let out a chuckle. “You must be well-versed in trying several household products or expired juices to make this assessment.” She gave me a long, murderous look. “But then again, you think regular Coke tastes like… what was that you said?”
Rosalie sighed. “Like dishwashing soap.”
“My point exactly.”
“I'm just picky... and have a sensitive taste and smell,” she quickly added, but I saw a small smile form on her lips.
“I can tell,” I grinned at her as I turned onto our street. “That's why when I went to get stuff for our not-party we are currently having, I made sure we had Diet Coke.”
Rosie let out a small moan. “I love it when you talk dirty to me.”
Her moan did something unexpected to me. Electricity buzzed through my body and straight to my cock. Fuck, I was getting horny from a playful moan. If that wasn't a sign that I needed to get laid, I don't know what was.
The only problem was that crutches weren't sexy, and despite the many girls visiting, I didn't want to be the injured guy getting a BJ in bed.
That wasn't me.
But my own heroism led me to a car with my teammate’s sister and a hard dick.
Clearly, I was off my game.
“I actually would appreciate it if you took me back to my dorm,” she said, the playfulness gone from her words. “I'll call Aaron tomorrow, but I just want to be alone tonight.”
“The girls were worried about you,” I said, trying to reason with her.
“I can walk if it's a problem,” Rosie shrugged when she looked out the window and noticed we were on the street of the soccer house. “I need to clear my head.”
“Are you sure you don't want to talk?” I asked one more time.
Rosie stared at me and shook her head. “Not tonight. I'm too...”
She struggled to find the right word to describe her emotions, but I didn't push her. I allowed the silence to stretch between us, wrapping her in a comfortable blanket.
Everyone told me she was shy and reserved when we first met, but I got to see her bubbly personality whenever we spent one-on-one time together.
And I loved our time together.
Reaching for the radio, I turned it on, allowing a sad Taylor Swift song to fill the car.
Rosalie chuckled and leaned her head against the headrest. “I think Daisy is turning me into a Swiftie.”
I returned her smile, welcoming the change of topic.
Daisy was Ivy's sister who just transferred from Westpoint University, our enemies, to Hillview University. She and Rosie were roommates.
“I know like two songs... what's that one called that goes 'Shake it off, shake it off-off, yeah'?” I tried to sing it, making it sound horrible.
She laughed and covered her mouth. “It's called Shake It Off. Earth-shattering, I know.”
I shrugged as a grin spread across my face.
“What's the second one?” She probed me with a small smile, and I was glad I got her out of the funk mood she was in, even if it was at my own expense.
“It's the one with the goat noise,” I scratched my head. “You know the one with 'we are never ever getting back together' and the screaming goat sound.”
Rosie stared at me, her lower lip trembling, and for a second, I thought she was about to cry. Instead, she burst out laughing, doubling over and leaning against her knees.
Pride swelled in my chest as she dabbed her tears of happiness off her face, and she barely got out a word. “What goat are you talking about?”
“I'll send you the video.”
“Please do, I need to show that to Daisy,” she let out one last chuckle, and her eyes lit up when she caught sight of her dorm building.
It wasn't nearly as nice as any of the frat or sports houses, and it reminded me more of a prison when I stayed there, especially with all the added security, but for some reason, it was safe for Rosalie.