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When a sigh came through the other end of the line, I felt the urge to make Caroline smile. She didn’t smile enough anymore. I could tell by listening to the sound of her voice.
“So, you got that new dress for the dance yet?” I asked, totally not caring about dresses, but loving my sister unconditionally.
“Yeah. My friends and I went shopping after school on Tuesday.”
I nodded. “What color is it?” When a right tackle on the butterfly press a couple feet away paused to send me an odd look for asking that question, I flipped him off. He could think whatever he wanted about me. I knew talking about dresses would cheer Caroline up.
And it seemed to. “Blue,” she answered, her voice brightening noticeably. “Well, teal, technically.”
I didn’t have a clue what color teal was, but that didn’t matter. Caroline kept rambling, describing its length and type of cloth and amount of ruffles.
“Sander even came over last night so he could see it and find a corsage to match.”
My eyebrows lifted. “He came over, huh?”
“Oh, my God. Nothing happened. I swear, you are the most overprotective brother ever. Colton was here the entire time. And he followed Sander around everywhere he went.”
“Just Colt? Where was Brandt?”
“I told you, he was out getting beaten up by that freaking gang.”
“Oh, right. I forgot.” Wondering what exactly I was going to say to Brandt to help him stay out of trouble, I yawned again. Damn, I needed more sleep. My brain had gone fuzzy. Closing my eyes, I envisioned my mattress at the apartment and wondered how long it would be before I could rest my head on my pillow again, curl up under the sheets, and just—
Unbidden, an image of my English professor popped into the scene. Her hair was all plucked up in its bun and her baggie blazer was tossed crumbled to the foot of my bed. When soft, phantom hands slid up my bare chest, I jumped and snapped my eyes open.
Jesus, it’d definitely been too long since I’d gotten laid.
Still sweaty and shirtless, lifting weights in the university’s training room, I noticed Quinn Hamilton approaching, probably wanting more throwing tips. I gave an internal sigh.
“I gotta go, Care. But I’ll check in with Brandt later today, find out what’s going on with him. Okay?”
She grumbled something I didn’t catch but finally consented and told me she loved me before hanging up.
The next half hour passed with more grueling exercise, running through different plays and scenarios with Hamilton, teaching him how to be a better player than I was. God, I hoped he didn’t turn out to be better than me. All this wasn’t worth it if I ended up losing my spot on the team and not even garnering the attention of NFL scouts.
Some days, I just wanted to give up, and sleep in, or skip work, or just totally blow off weight training and not even attend classes. But I had a sinking feeling that slipping, even once, would come back to haunt me. So I kept plowing forward with everything I had, hoping it would all come out okay.
But, God, I was so tired. Felt like there was a fifty-pound weight on my chest. If I could just unload all my crap onto someone else, talk to someone...
Caroline had me to listen to her problems, but I told no one about all my worries and concerns. Not even Ten. He had no idea what my life was like outside Ellamore.
Still half out of it after my sleepless night, I tromped to class. I was so far gone, I’d completely forgotten about my dreaded make-up assignment I’d turned in to Kavanagh on Tuesday. I didn’t think a thing of it as I entered the room on autopilot...until she called my name.
Damn, but her voice always did something to me.
I paused, my foot lifted to step up the first set of stairs to head toward the back of the class where I saw Ten lounging. Turning my gaze, I glanced her way, but she wasn’t looking at me. With her attention on a paper she was examining on her desk, she reached over and lifted another stapled pile off the top of her briefcase and held it out for me to come fetch.
My stomach dropped into my knees. Shit. She’d already read it?
I froze, unable to move an inch. She continued to read over the sheet on her desk for another ten seconds before she finally lifted her face and arched me a dry look. As she wiggled my paper in an invitation to come take it, I just stared at her, my entire life flashing before my eyes.
She’d read my paper, and now she knew. And, huh, I guess I’d unloaded all my problems on someone after all, hadn’t I? Shit, why did it have to be her? I studied her face cautiously, fearing the worst. But she gave away nothing except a half-annoyed expression because I wasn’t moving.
She just had to be one of those people who had a freaking good poker face, didn’t she? I couldn’t decipher a single thing she was thinking.
More concerned with what she must think of me now than I was worried about my actual grade, I took a step toward her, only to pause. God, I didn’t want to take it back. It had to be littered with red, telling me exactly what she was going to do with all her newfound knowledge about me.
Lowering my gaze to my paper in her raised hand, I strode the last few steps and slipped it free, only to roll it into a tube so I couldn’t see the score or all her comments in the margins.
