Not the enthusiastic agreement I was hoping for but it’ll do.
“Friends don’t stab one another in the back,” I say. “They don’t hurt each other.” I’m friendly with a lot of people but there are very few I genuinely count as friends. If he wants to be one of them, he’ll need to know what I expect.
“I won’t do anything to harm you. Not knowingly or willingly at least.”
“You’ll swear to that?”
He lifts one brow in question. “Like a pinky swear?” I’m almost surprised at the question but then I remember he’s mentioned having younger sisters. A pinky swear is likely right up his alley.
“Yes. Exactly like a pinky swear.”
Honey-colored eyes spark with amusement.
Shifting forward, I hold out my hand, pinky raised in the air. Giving him an expectant look, I wait for him to take it and after only a few seconds, he shakes his head with a soft chuckle and wraps his pinky finger around mine, giving it a firm shake.
“Cross my heart and hope to die.”
His smile widens and he picks up the words for our promise.“Stick a needle in my eye.”
“A secret is a secret. My word is forever.”
“A promise between friends,” he adds.
“Forever and ever,” I finish the rhyme and release his pink.
“Happy now?” he asks.
“Yes. Thank you.”
Shaking his head, he settles back against the bed and folds his hands behind his head.
“So, cards on the table?”
I nod. He pinky swore, and he knew the promise poem. I have no choice but to trust him now.
“At first, I didn’t want to be your friend. I wanted in your pants.”
He laughs at my dumbfounded expression and I swat him in the chest with the back of my hand.
“Don’t look so surprised. You’re hot. You can’t blame a guy for trying”
Guys don’t usually refer to me as hot. I’ve been told I’m pretty plenty of times growing up, but more often than not, I’m referred to as cute or,gag,adorable.
At just over five feet tall with a heart-shaped face, blue eyes, and loose, curly blond hair, I can’t tell you the number of times people have joked that I’m cute andfun sized.Which for the record is not a compliment.
So hot? That’s a new one for me.
“Um. Thanks.”
“You're welcome.” He lifts one shoulder in a small shrug. “But the same day we met is the same day Price decided I was enemy number one and after that…” He trails off.
I wait.After that, what?I want to question him but instead keep my mouth shut, giving him time to sort through his thoughts.
Deacon shifts on the floor, his expression growing decidedly uncomfortable. He coughs to clear his throat and flicks his gaze around my room, taking everything in as though he hasn’t seen it already. His efforts to keep his gaze pointedly off of me aren’t unnoticed.
“When I realized Price had a vested interest in you, and after I got over the beating I took everyday on the field, I may have allowed my animosity for him to steer my attention decisively your way.”
“Why?” What is his problem with Dominique? Is it because he’s the starting quarterback and Deacon is second string? He’s an incoming freshman. Surely someone explained he has to work his way up in the team lineup? You can’t expect to be MVP on day one.
