15. Rose
Rose
DO NOT ANSWER:
Does Callaghan know you’re using him to make me jealous?
He’s nothing; you’re still mine, Angel.
By Monday evening, Rose’s ribs were feeling less stabby and more achy.
Her weekend of lounging around the apartment helped.
A sad but important improvement. Rose spent her afternoon in the ice bath and sauna, giving her ample time to consider Laurel’s nod upon leaving the film room that morning and her choices of late.
She could have convinced herself it was a figment of her imagination, except she wasn’t the only one that saw it.
Maya’s gaze had jumped between her and Laurel, suspicious as ever, while Bridget’s wide-eyed glee was oddly obvious for the half a second their eyes met.
She was also kind enough to offer her a subtle thumbs-up.
It was weird, but it was progress.
She’d been considering pulling the plug on their project or moving it in a less public direction, but it was working.
She just needed to figure out how to get what she needed—a working relationship with her team, a passing grade, and her life back—without compromising her safety.
Preston was unpredictable on the best of days.
He was violent on the worst. She wouldn’t put it past him to escalate as the pressure grew within Westmont.
The Goodwins had a lot of power, with their heavy ties to the university and government, but the story was out there now.
That alone brought more hope than anything.
Add the president stepping down, it was a matter of time before journalists got wind that Preston was the ringleader.
The pressure wouldn’t be just on the university side of his life.
He could do anything, and she didn’t know how to prepare for that.
It was a sobering realization to be unsure about what else would come her way as she climbed out of bed to retrieve another ice pack.
Her ribs were healing. The lack of scrimmages in favor of conditioning had helped.
But she was still careful not to twist awkwardly.
A loud grunt and an exclamation from the living room had her stepping carefully into the hallway.
The middle of the living room was the same as always, but her roommates were both ruddy cheeked and sweaty. “You guys okay?”
“She’s home!” Harper said, her fist lifting in the air with a sad enthusiasm from her collapsed position in the armchair.
“I’ve been home all weekend,” Rose countered as she leaned her shoulder against the wall and crossed her arms. Ainsley waved half-heartedly. Harper’s fist lowered as the realization Rose was right fluttered across her face.
“If you think I didn’t notice that we’ve moved this damn couch back into the original position, you’re wrong,” Ainsley huffed, her finger wagging toward the general area of Harper on the other side of the living room.
She wiped the sweat off her forehead before sat up, another pathetic movement while leveling an accusing glare at Harper.
“Did you make me do this so I could count it as cardio?”
“You said you wanted to exercise more, but didn’t have time with your article deadlines!
” Harper grinned as she rolled off the armchair and crossed to Rose.
She wrapped her arms around her. It felt less like a hug and more like she was holding Rose hostage.
“No time to be mad about a little forced cardio, Ains. I told you to get a walking desk. For now, we have to grill Rose about that party last weekend.”
“Oh, no—”
“Kirin was all over you,” Ainsley said as she fell backwards onto the couch. “Way to bury the lead there, roomie.”
“I suppose you held back on cornering me all week so you could double-team me?” Rose asked Ainsley, who grinned at the ceiling.
“Lulling you into a false sense of safety was a key component of our master plan.” Ainsley rolled her head to the side. “Your busy schedule actually helped with that.”
“Can we talk about how his eyes were on you from the second he saw you? It was adorable,” Harper cut in, unsuccessfully trying to drag Rose toward the couch. Fortunately, she had a good six inches and at least twenty pounds of muscle on her.
“And he got in his sister’s face.” Ainsley snuggled into her spot on the couch. “Don’t treat us like idiots or I’ll sick Harper and her Post-its on you the next time you have an away game.”
She shot a look down at Harper, who was still holding her like a hostage. The devilish intent in the smile on her face made Rose pause. Do I want Harper covering my room in Post-its? No, but it would be helpful to have a nice stash she didn’t have to pay for.
It might be worth it.
Rose was still considering her pros and cons when their buzzer went off three times. She and Harper turned, and Ainsley sat up. Rose’s heart rate skyrocketed, her gaze shifting around the room for a weapon as Harper leaned around her to look at the door.
“Did you order food?” Harper hissed at Ainsley.
“No, we haven’t rolled the dice yet,” she answered, referring to the dice they kept handy with the takeout menus when they couldn’t decide on their dinner.
“Then who—”Another couple of buzzes cut her off.
Is it Preston?
Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and she glanced down at it.
Kirin
I can feel you debating whether to answer. Let me in.
Dammit. She let out a breath, a light laugh chasing it at her fear.
“It’s just Kirin,” Rose said, but Ainsley squeaked.
Rose extracted herself from Harper’s koala grip and buzzed Kirin in.
When he knocked on the door, she swung it open forcefully enough to make Kirin take a step back.
It was truly unfair how good he always looked.
The wet hair, athletic shirt he’d probably pulled on after practice, and loose shorts still made him look like a model.
Suspicion and dread crawled up the back of her neck. “How’d you know where I live?”
Kirin didn’t seem to notice her unease, or maybe he was just ignoring it because he shrugged. He started with a raised finger. “Process of elimination.” Then he continued, “Your Bronco is out front.” And lifting a second finger, he said, “A teammate said he sees it parked there often.”
Unfortunately, that sounded like solid deductive reasoning. “What’re you doing here?”
“I brought food,” he said, and she narrowed her eyes, looking over the large brown paper bag inside the white plastic one.
It smelled good. Like butter and garlic and grilled chicken.
But food notwithstanding, he still shouldn’t be here.
It was Monday. She had stuff to do, and she’d been avoiding him for nearly a week.
“Why?” she asked, then lowered her voice to a whisper.
“To bribe my way into your roommates’ good graces.” He smiled, and she frowned.
“There’re two of them. Neither of them is going to make a difference with the polls,” she reasoned, and Kirin shrugged, unbothered.
“I parked my truck behind your Bronco. Maybe someone will notice and assume we’re sleeping together.” He grinned wide and wickedly, and her stomach twisted.
She hoped not. The last thing she needed was someone from Westmont coming by and slashing her tires.
Rose glanced over her shoulder at her roommates, who were both peeking over the back of the couch like nosy meerkats.
This would only fuel their questions. With a quiet sigh, Rose scrubbed her nails through her hair and watched Kirin’s gaze track her movements. “What?”
“I love your hair,” he breathed. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“Paulie has the same shade.” She reasoned, “It’s the same as my mom’s and Nonna’s, too.”
“Nonna? Are you Italian? And Paulie’s isn’t curly, or at least it’s always braided.” He stepped closer, his voice lowering. “Can I come in, Flower?”
“Among other things. And you’ll probably regret it if they grill us,” she murmured, but stepped back and pasted on a smile. “Kirin is here.”
“Yes, we heard that,” Harper quipped, and Rose rolled her eyes as she closed the door and trailed him to the kitchen island.
“And he brings food!” Kirin said with a fake crowd-cheering sound as he held up the bag. Her roommates perked up.
They both slid off the couch, practically bouncing their way across the living room to the opposite side of the kitchen island. “What type of food?”
“Italian from Mama Bianchi’s,” Kirin said as he pulled each container out. “I wasn’t sure what you guys would eat, so I got a selection.”
Ainsley leaned over the island and mock-whispered at her, “Don’t screw this up.”
“I’ll do my best,” Rose said with a low drone. Kirin grinned at her, so she stuck her tongue out at him, and he winked.
Ainsley pulled the lids off each of the containers while Harper turned to grab some bowls and serving spoons out of the drawer.
She looked over the options: ravioli, spaghetti, Alfredo with chicken, carbonara, pesto chicken, lasagna with meat sauce, and a few other options she didn’t have names for beside a box of garlic breadsticks she wouldn’t be able to touch until the offseason.
He was terrible for her nutritional plan.
“Dig in,” Kirin ordered, and Ainsley moved, grabbing a bowl just as Harper handed one to Rose with a smile. He waited until her roommates were full engrossed with the multitude of options, then he leaned over, his voice low. “How was practice?”
“It could have gone better. Some dumb mistakes rightfully angered my coach, but overall, it was fine. Today was weird. Your sister and I have found a truce? I think?” She genuinely wasn’t sure, so she watched his face to see if he had anything to do with it.
Kirin’s eyes lit up, and her stomach flipped.
“Have you? That’s great!” He loaded his bowl, opening a container of grilled chicken and grabbed a few of the breasts out before he pushed the container to her forcing her into action.
“I talked to her yesterday, but I wasn’t sure it made it all the way to her brain.
Thought I might need to engage in a little sibling blackmail. ”