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Zara Fox is another matter altogether. I don’t know how to control what I feel for her.
How the fuck did this happen?
How can I have fallen so fucking hard, already?
I’m tempted to turn around and storm over to her dorm, forcing my way in. But she lives in one of those Fort Knox freshman girls’ dorms. They’d call security and drag me away in handcuffs, possibly. Which won’t help me get closer to her.
I get to the locker room where Jake, West and Gabriel are waiting for me.
All three of them watch me walk in. All three of them have the same expression on their faces. Pissed-off concern. “Where the fuck were you last night, Chief?” Jake asks.
“You know where I was.”
“Dude, we were about to file a missing person’s report,” West adds. “And why didn’t you answer your phone—wait, don’t tell me, you were busy getting down and dirty with—”
“Finish that sentence and I’ll be forced to rearrange your face, Hawkins.” I can hear the crazy edge to my voice. “It would be a shame to mess up those pretty boy looks, so my advice to you is to shut the fuck up.” I grab my shoulder pads and pull them on.
Gabriel’s voice is low. “You spent the night with her?”
“I’m not talking to you about it.”
“Are you insane?” Gabriel asks. “Are you trying to throw away your entire future?”
“No,” I seethe. “I’m trying to make a future. She is my future.”
They all go sort of wide-eyed at that one.
“Oh shit,” West groans. “This is so much worse than we thought.”
I spend the entire training session getting told off because I’m over-exerting myself. It’s the only way I can cope with the replays of her angel’s face and the post-orgasm glow warming her cheeks. The way she tasted, like literal nectar of the gods, is messing with my sanity. The way she felt, the awkward, shy but greedy exploration of her cool hands and her insanely-sweet mouth.
You have too much to lose and I refuse to be the cause of it.
I’m in hell.
15
It’s been several hours since my meltdown and I’ve learned something new about myself.
I’m good at tuning out emotions that are hard to think about. It’s what I’ve been doing for years, after all.
“You did the right thing, Zara,” Isla assures me, weaving her long blond hair into a braid. “You can always get together after he graduates. Once he’s in the NFL and your dad is no longer his coach, then it won’t matter. You’ll be free to date him, if you still have feelings for him. Come on, I’ll walk with you.”
I guess that logic is helpful enough. If he hasn’t moved on by then. If he doesn’t forget about you after he’s drafted and living the high life in some faraway city. If life doesn’t steer you in opposite directions.
Maybe it’s for the best.
Then why does it feel like my heart is beating somewhere outside my body?
I go into autopilot mode as we head across the Green. I go to my classes. Art History 101 with Professor Jenkins is interesting enough but I’ve already read about all the artists she’s talking about. I mean, come on, I’ve been obsessed with the Impressionists since I was five. I know more about them than she does.
In English, we’re given a reading comprehension test, which we have to complete within the ninety-minute class. It’s a good distraction.
Maeve is in the class too and, as I’m leaving, she comes over and walks with me. “Hey, Zara, I saw the light on in your studio last night when I was leaving. It was late. I was going to knock but I figured you might be in the zone and I didn’t want to disturb you.” Yeah, you could say that. “Did you sleep there?”
I try to sound as breezy as I can. “Oh. Yeah. For part of the night. I fell asleep.”
“I’m right down the hall from you, in room 320. Have you finished your painting for the freshman exhibition?”
