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“Yeah?”
“I know it’s fast. I don’t want to scare you or rush you or freak you out. Don’t say anything when I tell you what I’m about to tell you.”
She’s quiet, blinking up at me with those colorful green eyes, which are so star-flecked and filled with light, they do make her look like there’s magic going on inside her soul.
“I’m fucking head over heels in love with you,” I tell her. “You’re beautiful. You’re—”
She holds a finger to my lips. Then, softly, she kisses me. “I had a good time. I don’t regret anything. You’re all my firsts, Elias O’Shea.”
“I want to be a million more of them.”
It’s incredibly fucking difficult to leave her.
“Answer my calls.” I kiss her again. I don’t want to let her go. Here, inside my car, I can control whatever influences will try to keep us apart. Out there, there are too many forces at play that will try to do exactly that. “When can I see you again. Tonight?”
“Okay. Tonight. I’ll be in my studio.”
She opens the door and gets out. It’s early morning but there are a few people around and we’re taking a risk. “See you tonight, then.”
I watch her go into her dorm, then I drive over to the gym. Noah, Mitch and Jared are always here first, trying to prove to Coach they’re dedicated. West is just arriving. He checks to make sure no one else is within earshot. Then he punches me lightly on the arm. “Was wondering if we were going to see you this morning, QB. I’m guessing you had a better weekend than I did.”
She feels far too sacred to talk about. “Don’t even go there, Westie. Unless you want your face rearranged.”
He laughs but there’s genuine sincerity in him. “I hope it was real for you, brother.”
The way he means it is almost touching. It’s probably the nicest thing he’s ever said to me. “It was.”
Grinning, he climbs onto the leg press machine. Jake and Gabe arrive and the place gets crowded.
Two personal trainers who work specifically with me start running me through a series of lateral raises, front raises and side planks and it helps take my mind off how far gone I am and how much I miss her. An hour passes. Then two.
We’re almost done when I look up to see Coach Fox and Coach Warren, one of the offensive line assistant coaches, standing near the machine I’m working on. Coach Warren is holding his phone and both of them are staring at it grimly.
Whatever they’re looking at is deeply concerning to them. Coach’s agitation is easy to read.
“O’Shea,” Coach says gruffly and I don’t like the edge to it.
I climb off the machine. Coach Warren holds his phone out. “What the fuck were you thinking, Elias,” he murmurs, shaking his head. It’s not a question. It’s a warning in slow motion. It’s the writing on the wall. I take the phone from him. My blood ices in my veins but I have no regrets. How can I when she’s so fucking perfect?
It’s a photo of Zara and me. We’re in my car and I’m kissing her. Really kissing her. My hands are weaved through her hair, which is an adorable riot of bed-head curls. It’s obvious that we’ve spent the night together, especially since the post states clearly: Two hours ago.
It’s barely seven a.m.
I steel myself for what’s coming, but I wouldn’t change anything, even if I could.
“That’s my daughter.” Coach’s voice is graveled with rage.
“I know that, sir. Zara and I are—”
“She’s a freshman. And completely off limits to you and everyone else on this team! You knew that! Get out of my goddamn gym.”
“Coach, I’m in love with her.” It sounds wildly unrealistic, blurted out like that in front of the entire team and all the coaches, even if my voice sounds resolute as fuck.
“How dare you! You don’t even know her!” Coach’s outrage is unchecked, but he catches himself, trying to control his temper. Even so, each word is dripping with fury. “I’ve seen the carnage you cause, O’Shea. I’ve watched you play the field every goddamn night for the past three years. How many naive hearts have you broken? Hundreds? Thousands? It’s what you do! You play games and you destroy lives. That’s all you’ve done since the minute you stepped foot on this campus. Players like you don’t deserve—”
“I’m not playing games with Zara, Coach. I’m fucking serious about her!” He’s furious and so am I. I can’t give her up. I’ll die if I have to give her up. “I mean that, Coach. This is different.”
“You’re goddamn right it’s different! It’s different because this time it’s cost you your place on this team. Now get the hell out of my gym before I call security.”
