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Once I entered the hall, it was about an eighty-foot race to the other end where I could hopefully escape through another door into the stairwell on the opposite side of the building and hurry down before Topher caught up. That was the wish and the hope flooding my veins, and I ran for all I was worth toward the door in front of me to attain that very goal. I was about halfway there when one of the dorm room doors opened, and some guy stepped into the hall, directly into my path.
I didn’t have time to slow down or even warn him I was there before I struck, pounding into him with a force that would’ve knocked pretty much anyone off their feet and sent us both crashing to the floor. But not this guy.
Felt like I collided into a steel wall.
Dazed by the impact, I started to crumble.
“Shit.” In the middle of stumbling backward, he caught me with one arm and steadied us both by reaching out to brace himself against the wall with his other. “Sorry about that. I didn’t see you there. Are you okay?”
“No!” I hollered ungracefully, glancing behind me in a panic, even though I hadn’t regained my balance yet. The handle to the door I’d just escaped through started to turn. Topher would enter this very hall in a matter of moments.
Desperate to avoid even eye contact with him, I screeched, “Go, go, go!” and shoved the guy back through the opening of the room he’d been exiting because our little collision had happened so quickly that the door hadn’t even had time to close yet.
“What…?” Caught off guard, he tumbled backward into the room with me, and this time we did crash to the floor, a tangle of arms and legs. But at least we landed all the way inside the room, enough so that I could kick my foot out and slam the door behind us. Then I scrambled to my feet, pretty sure I kneed the guy I’d landed on in a couple different places in my hurry to get off him so I could return to the door and flip the lock.
Throughout everything, I heard a girl shriek in surprise, crying, “Wick? What the hell?”
Now that I had a locked portal separating me from Topher, I was able to focus enough to become aware of my surroundings. And the word Wick was the first thing to catch my attention.
I knew of a guy named Wick. He was on the team with Topher. I’d never actually spoken to him before, because he and Topher were mortal enemies, and also because Topher had told me Wick had called me a horse-faced troll once.
I don’t know why. He might’ve only been talking shit about me because I’d been dating his nemesis, or maybe he really did think I was butt ugly, but at the moment I didn’t give a shit what he thought of my appearance. He hated Topher, so he might’ve just become my new best friend.
Whirling around, I latched my gaze onto the guy who was still on the floor, just now sitting up and dusting his hands off on the thighs of his jeans. And yep, he was definitely the Wick I’d pictured.
Topher’s archrival: Wick Webster.
In looks, the guy ranked up there with the four Chrises. He was Pratt, Pine, Evans, and Hemsworth hot. Being one of the team’s safeties, I’d heard he led the entire league with having more interceptions than any other player in the division. This made him stupid hot because his body was in prime physical condition. His pecs and biceps were basically suffocating in the plain black t-shirt he wore.
I wanted to snicker and roll my eyes, tell the douche he needed to lay off the tight shirts, but holy damn, the only reason I could think he had those muscles was because God was apologizing to the rest of us for Webster’s shitty attitude—and I’m guessing he must have a shitty attitude if he could so easily call a complete stranger like me a horse-faced troll—therefore, his torso really should be displayed as fabulously as it was.
But he wasn’t just fit, he had a pretty face to go with the body. Full, plush lips, deep penetrating blue eyes, an angular jaw, and not-super-defined, but pleasantly shaped cheekbones. Then there was his hair. God, his hair was gorgeous. Dark with a dash of lighter streaks, it looked silky and soft enough that I’d admired it from afar more than once. It was just long enough for a girl to grip while he was—
Well…let’s just say it was really, really too bad he was most likely a complete jerk. And besides, no girl would be doing anything with him, anyway; Topher had told me he was gay, so I guess it’d have to be some guy—not a girl—who’d get to discover just how graspable his hair was.
When his gaze connected with mine, recognition flared in his eyes, and we both kind of just froze, as if neither of us was sure what to do next. The girl whose room I assumed this belonged to—since this was a girls-only building—surged up from the bed where she’d been studying.
Pointing at me, she gaped. “You’re Haven Gamble.” She turned to Wick. “Oh my God. She’s Haven Gamble. Why did you just drag Haven Gamble into my room?”
Still on the floor, he looked at her, seemingly a little dazed himself. Then he shook his head. “I didn’t. She dragged me in here.”
The girl shook her head, obviously confused. “But—”
She and I both shrieked when a fist suddenly pounded on the door, and Topher’s muffled voice hollered, “Haven! Dammit, get out here right now.”
I backed away from the portal, shaking my head adamantly, as he jingled the handle.
“Haven!”
I sent the door a mean mug, only to yelp when I backed into the girl. She clutched my arm, and I wasn’t sure if she was seeking safety or trying to give it.
“Who’s that?” she whispered fearfully, gripping me hard.
“My boyfriend,” I uttered, beginning to tremble. Then I shook my head because boyfriend sounded all wrong now. “Ex-boyfriend,” I revised.
The entire door shuddered as Topher manually tried to break it down.
“Son of a bitch,” Wick growled, finally getting to his feet.
