Chapter 15 #2
“Let’s not spell it out, okay?” I resumed my march to the coffee shop.
“I don’t have that reputation,” he told me quietly as he fell back into step beside me.
And he didn’t. I’d never heard a whisper of him with anyone. Nothing here — I’d checked the socials of his old school too.
“That’s not the point,” I murmured.
“Um, yeah, I think for what you’re trying to insinuate, it really is.”
I stopped walking again and closed my eyes, counting to ten. “Stop walking beside me. Stop talking to me. Stop looking at me.”
“No.”
My mouth dropped, and he gave a small shrug.
“I wanted to ask you something. You should be professional and listen to my question.”
“I don’t want to be professional.”
His brows rose. “Well, you achieved that,” he muttered as he looked over my head. “Would you prefer it if I made an appointment?”
“An appointment?” I couldn’t keep up with this guy, which was pissing me off even more. “Just ask me.”
Noah nodded. “I think the best thing for any of us on the team is to make sure we can’t be like . . .” he hesitated. “Well, you know who, and we make sure that the fans of the game — of us — are invested in us. Offseason or no.”
I blinked. “Okay?”
“Well, Dante doesn’t really have to try,” he said gruffly. “Dust has a bit of a bad reputation, but I think that’s why he’s so popular, right?”
I nodded. “And?”
“Well, I was looking at Moore’s, and it’s impressive.”
“Are we still talking about social media?”
Noah gave me a flat stare. “And I’m the child?”
Okay, I may have deserved that. “What are you asking?”
“I need your help. I need to be like them. I just . . . am not.”
I shifted my weight as I considered his question. “You want me to help you build your social media presence?”
I stared at him. Social media advice? That was either painfully genuine or the smoothest excuse for continued contact I’d ever heard.
“Yeah.”
“And this isn’t a weird way of asking me out?”
“Wow, you’re that girl? I don’t think I like it.” His eyes narrowed slightly. “No. I’m not asking you out.”
Well, that left no room for interpretation, did it? I tried not to let my reaction to such brutal rejection show. I licked my lips as I considered what he said. He had a valid point. The more visible the players were, the harder it would be for the administration to get rid of them.
“You have zero social media game,” I told him bluntly.
“Yeah, I know.”
“Like . . . my mother has more presence than you do.”
“She’s hot.”
I laughed before I could stop myself, then realized he was serious. “Ew, you cannot say that about my mom!”
“Why?” Noah grinned. “She is hot.”
“She’s my mom.”
“So?” He didn’t hide his amusement. “I’m not dating you. I can look at whoever I want.”
“Yeah, that’s too much information.” But I was smiling, and I saw the small curl of his upper lip, which made me smile wider. “I will help you with your social media marketing if you promise never to mention my mom and her hotness again.”
“Done.”
I gave him a look of consideration. “For real?”
“Cross my heart and hope to die.”
“Yeah, well, be careful what you wish for,” I teased him. I was teasing him now? “I get any more of your shit, and you may be achieving your hope sooner than you think.”
Noah chuckled and then checked his watch. “I need to go, some of us have classes.”
And some of us had jobs! I checked my watch. “Shit. I’m so late for work.” I abandoned my need for coffee and didn’t hear what he called after me as I shouted, “See you later.”
Gaby didn’t look up as I hurried into the office, and I sat down at my desk, praying my breathing wasn’t as rattled as I feared.
Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I saw I had a new message.
Matthews: Never had anyone literally run from me like that. It’s quite demoralizing.
I grinned.
Me: You sure? I bet there’s more than me who’s run from you
Matthews: That hurts
Me: Toughen up, you’ll need thicker skin than that for SM
Matthews: I hate it already
Me: You’ll hate it even more once we start
Me: And stop talking to me, I’m trying to work
Matthews: You shouldn’t have skipped that coffee . . . you obviously need it
“Asshole.”
I looked up when I heard the tapping on the desk. Gaby was watching me.
“What?”
“Who’s the sexter?”
I put my phone down as if it’d burned me. “What? I don’t know what you mean.”
She rolled her eyes at me. “That’s the most color I’ve ever seen on your cheeks, Briar. That flush? That’s a man flush. So . . . who’s the man?”
I swallowed hard. “No man.”
Her face showed her surprise before she quickly schooled it. “Oh, of course, my bad. Who’s the woman?”
I knew I frowned. “Not a woman.”
She looked like she regretted this conversation, and I felt sorry for her and decided to help her out.
“It’s not a man. Yes, I like men. Well, I mean, it is a man, but he’s not a man. I mean, he is. But you know.” That was me helping her out? I needed to stop talking.
“Is he . . . I mean, are they a . . . they?” Gaby was frowning as she tried not to say the wrong thing. “I just don’t want to insult anyone by getting the pronouns wrong.”
This had turned really awkward. And unnecessary.
“No. No they. Their pronouns are he and him. He’s very . . . male. Trust me.”
“But you said—”
I got to my feet. “I think I need the bathroom.” I didn’t wait for her to say anything else before I had to explain my ‘not a man’ was because I was talking about a student and was trying to convince myself he wasn’t right for me because he was a student .
. . Instead, I sped along the hallway that led to the bathrooms and locked myself in a cubicle.
“What the fuck was that, Briar?” I dropped my head into my hands and groaned. “That was a car crash. A very bad one.”
Tipping my head back, I looked up at the ceiling. “She’s going to think you’re a weirdo. A homophobic one, at that.”
A giggle escaped me. What a weird day this was.
I laughed even harder. Between this morning, Noah punching an assistant coach, the whole library room thing, then the quad, then Gaby .
. . I was either laughing with amusement or having the long-awaited breakdown in the toilets I’d been waiting for since high school.
As I sobered myself, flushed the toilet pointlessly, and washed my hands, I realized today was the first time I’d laughed since I came to this campus. Despite it being one of the weirdest days of my otherwise boring life, it had been fun.
And it was because of him.
My smile faded. Well . . . that wasn’t good at all.
I needed to remember who he was, where we were, and everything in between.
Noah Matthews was not a mistake I needed to make.