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By the time I finished my first bottle of water, all I could think about was the cultural significance of World War II and Nazi Germany. I was thoroughly engrossed in learning about the war when a bunch of my fraternity brothers came home. One of them high-fived me as they made their way into the kitchen, ignoring the obvious body language that screamed, leave me alone for once in your fucking life you peasants.
“If it isn’t The Bedroom King himself! What are you studying, bro?”
I paused the audiobook, pissed that I no longer had the house to myself. The only way I was going to get anything done was in silence, and there was a greater chance of Satan swallowing me into hell in that very kitchen than there was of silence. “World War II shit. Where were you guys at?”
“We just left Lenny’s, and you’ll never guess who we saw.” Robert, I think that was his name, covered his mouth with his fist and chuckled.
I popped open another bottle of detox water and shrugged.
“Isabella Dayton,” he spat out.
My body tensed up at the mere mention of her name. “That’s cool.”
One of the other guys sat down across from me and leaned across the table a bit too eagerly. “How’d you do it, man?”
“How’d I do what? What are you talking about?”
“Get Isabella Dayton into bed! I asked for her number, but she turned me down.”
Another guy threw his head back, laughing as he took a seat at the table, too. “That’s because you’re a douchebag, man. But seriously, Blade. Would you mind if we hooked up with her too?”
It suddenly dawned on me that I had yet to correct Aiden about not sleeping with Isabella. The two of us hadn’t seen each other since the day before in the locker room. “Look, I haven’t had a chance to talk with Aiden yet.”
The guys had no idea what I was talking about.
“What does Aiden have to do with this?”
I slowly placed my water bottle back on the table. “Who told you that I slept with Isabella Dayton?”
All of them smirked at me and leaned back in their chairs. It was like they were Stepford Wives, the way they did everything in unison. Creepy and weird, except they had dicks. “Dude, it’s all over campus.”
“The girl next to me in biology works with Isabella at the student union and said all of them gasped when they heard.”
“Pretty sure it’s getting around to the faculty now, too. You’re a fucking legend.”
They burst out laughing and high-fived each other as I sat there dumbfounded. While I was glad they were having the time of their lives living vicariously through me, it wasn’t true.
Isabella could ruin my football career. Hell, she could ruin my entire fucking life. All it’d take was one phone call to her parents to claim I’d taken advantage of her, but she was too ashamed to admit what happened. It’d be her only attempt at saving her reputation, which would end up ruining mine.
I could kiss my scholarships and any chance at a professional football career goodbye, all because I chose to protect her from an actual sexual predator.
* * *
The problemwith rich girls were that they came with rich parents attached to them. The problem with prim and proper girls is that they all too often cared more about their reputations than they did reality. Isabella was both rich and prim and proper. She’d burn the world to the ground before she ever let people believe that she slept with the Bedroom King.
She didn’t seem like the type to cry wolf, but she certainly had the power to do it. She had the power to absolutely destroy my life and I needed to make sure that she wouldn’t.
I hit the gas pedal and hightailed it to Lenny’s, pulling into the parking lot right as Isabella was leaving. Maintaining a safe distance, I followed her onto the highway and stayed a few cars back. It wasn’t lost on me that I was slipping into full-on stalker mode, but I had my football career to fight for. This was no longer about saving my reputation. It was about making sure that she wouldn’t go to great lengths to preserve hers.
I estimated that Isabella was headed back to campus, but she threw me a curve ball. She took a right and drove up the road to a local park. God knows what went through her mind when she saw me turn into the park behind her. Perhaps she didn’t even notice. The last time I had seen her, she was in distress.
I wasn’t the type of guy to get nervous, but I considered the idea that maybe she was meeting someone here. Maybe that person was Jason. I reasoned that Jason would be the best-case scenario, because then the three of us could settle our differences and set the record straight.
She slowly drove all the way to the back parking lot, which was empty but well-lit. Not wanting to scare her, I parked my red sports car a few spaces down from her, closed my eyes, and counted to ten.
Before I could get out, though, Isabella flung open the passenger door and sat down. Her floral, feminine perfume filled my car as I turned to look at her. Her beautiful face was covered in dried-up tears flecked with bits of mascara.
“Look, before you…” I began, but she interrupted me with a brush of her finger against my lips.
