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From his expression, I can’t tell if that’s a good thing or not.
“But you don’t have much contact with them?” What I really want is for Rowan to open up on his own and explain to me why my father is a surrogate to him when it’s obvious he has his own family.
Instead he says, “It’s a complicated situation.”
“Oh.”
What has become clear from our brief conversation is that Rowan isn’t comfortable when it comes to discussing his past. I suppose I should respect that. It only proves that Rowan and I aren’t friends. If we were, opening up wouldn’t be so difficult. And maybe that’s for the best. The two of us becoming all buddy-buddy—or more—would only complicate matters, and that’s the last thing I need.
Another silence descends, and I allow my eyelids to drift closed. The heat of the sun strokes over my cheeks. There’s something soothing about the warmth. It’s like getting a straight shot of vitamin D.
I’m startled out of my drowsy state when he says quietly, “If you don’t want me to come to dinner anymore or hang around with your dad, I get it.” There’s a pause. “I don’t have a problem backing away. I didn’t realize it bothered you so much.”
When my eyelids feather open, it’s to find Rowan staring down at me. There’s an intensity filling his eyes that leaves me feeling slightly winded. It blows open the door I was attempting to slam shut.
“I don’t want to cause a problem between you two,” he adds when I remain silent.
The possibility of him withdrawing from our lives—from my life—is enough to send a sliver of fear scampering down my spine. “That’s not what I want.”
He searches my gaze carefully as if it’s possible to sift through my thoughts and discover the truth for himself. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
A sigh of relief escapes from my lips when he changes the subject. “Can we meet up at the library tonight and work on the stats assignment?”
Right.
Tutoring.
“Yeah.” Mentally I go over my schedule for the remainder of the day. “Does seven o’clock work?” When he nods, I add, “East wing of the second floor near the Curriculum Collection?”
He gives me a bemused look, and I shrug self-consciously. “What? I’ve studied there enough times to know it’s quiet.”
I spend a lot of time at the library. There’s something about the peacefulness and being surrounded by all those books that helps me focus. When Dad asks me to tutor some of the guys, that’s my go-to place.
“All right,” he says, “it’s a date.”
My eyes widen, and I shake my head. “What—no! We’re just studying—”
“Relax, Richards.” A grin flashes across his face. “It was a figure of speech.”
“Oh.” I force out a nervous chuckle. “Right, I knew that.”
Rowan pops easily to his feet. The way he stares down at me makes my skin buzz. Our gazes lock and hold. Some unidentifiable emotion flickers in his deep-blue depths before disappearing, and he stretches out a hand for me to take hold of. The moment I place my fingers in his, a zip of electricity sizzles through me. With barely any effort at all, he pulls me to my feet. My hand stays enveloped in his larger one as my gaze searches his.
Does he feel the connection humming between us, or is it only in my imagination?
Then again, does it really matter?
Nothing can happen.
Those thoughts are like a bucket of cold water dumped over my head, and I take a hasty step in retreat. As I do, our hands drift apart before falling back to our sides.
I have a strict no-footballer rule in place, and it’s more important than ever I stick to it.
14
Demi
“Can you believe that girl?” Sydney mutters as we sit on the turf and stretch before practice.
I don’t bother to ask who she’s talking about; I already know. She reserves that particular level of disdain for very few people.
Unable to help myself, I glance toward the sideline only to see Annica talking with Coach Adams. Every once in a while, the auburn-haired girl will reach out to touch his bare forearm. It’s a harmless caress, barely perceptible.
Except...I know it’s not.
The way she smiles, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear and laughing, tells me it’s anything but innocent.
When I remain silent, Sydney continues to seethe next to me. Any moment, she’ll begin to foam at the mouth. “Does she seriously think that if she flirts hard enough with Coach, he’ll make her a starter?”
Yeah...that’s exactly what she thinks. I only hope our coach isn’t gullible enough to fall for her doe-eyed behavior. It’s not in my nature to see the worst in people, but over the last year, Annica has proven herself to be manipulative. I would be an idiot not to keep a close eye on her. Maybe Sydney is right, and I can be too trusting where my friends are concerned, but she’s burned me enough times to warrant my caution.
