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Alina warned me again this morning that I was wasting my time talking to Professor Clemens, but I couldn’t just roll over and let Archer win. I tossed and turned all last night, tied up in knots over it. Like Alina predicted, she shot me down instantly, citing that if I wanted to make it in the industry, I would need to be able to work with anyone. It took all I had not to stomp out of that classroom like a pissed off toddler.
“I’m sorry, Rory. I guess now is not the time to say I told you so?” She pushes herself upright, forcing Enzo to move his legs as she sits up.
“I mean, unless you want me to suffocate you in your sleep.” I narrow my gaze at her.
“Nope, not saying a word.” She lets out a small laugh.
“What are you two talking about?” Enzo asks, his gaze bouncing between the two of us.
“Rory is being forced to work with Archer on the portfolio.”
“And that’s a bad thing? I can list a hundred chicks off the top of my head that would give their left tit to work with him.”
My nose crinkles in disgust.
“Well, not this girl.” I hitch a thumb inward at my chest.
“What do you mean forced?” Her choice of words seems to finally catch up to him. “I thought you got to choose who you wanted to work with.” He addresses Alina directly.
“He went over Rory’s head. Probably had Coach Cook arrange it with Professor Clemens.”
“Uh-oh, you know what that means...” His face swivels toward me, a wide smile revealing a mouthful of perfectly straight, white teeth that takes over his expression. “It means he wants a piece of that,girl.” He gives me a quick once-over, gesturing to, well, all of me.
“That’s exactly what I said!” Alina smacks his leg a little harder than she probably meant to.
“No. No. And no.” I shake my head quickly from side to side.
“If he purposely sought you out, it’s very possible it’s because he wants to fuck you,” he disagrees. “He’s not someone who wastes his time simply to waste it.”
“Yeah, but if he knew he was going to have to do the project, why not have some fun and mess with the quiet introvert he seems to love screwing with in the process. Maybe he sought me out because he knew I wouldn’t want him to. Men are stupid in that way.”
“One, not all men are stupid, thank you very much.” He ticks up one finger, quickly followed by a second. “Two, I will admit there is something about the challenge that is very exhilarating. Perhaps he’s bored of being chased and wants to be the one chasing, and he knew you’d give him a run for his money. I won’t deny that’s a possibility.” He ticks up a third finger. “And three, you’re not that quiet,” he disagrees. “You forget I’ve spent a lot of time in this room with you. I’ve never met someone who curses under her breath or throws pencils as much as you do.” He drops his hand into his lap.
“He’s not wrong.” Alina barks out a laugh.
“Am I ever?” He snickers, the two exchanging a look.
I swear, if Alina would let herself admit she actually has feelings for Enzo, the two would be quite the pair. Enzo is pretty much perfect for her.
He’s big and boisterous—his personality matching his enormous frame. He’s handsome in a boyish way—like he hasn’t fully grown into his looks yet—especially when he keeps his face clean-shaven and his dark hair is shaved down into a buzz cut, the way it is every football season.
He’s loud and obnoxious at times but also hilarious. He’s one of those people you can’t help but like. He has a way of making you feel comfortable even if you’re completely fucking awkward ninety-eight percent of the time like I am. He’s also very upfront and seldom bullshits, which is exactly the kind of person Alina needs.
“You know him better than we do.” I revert back to our original conversation, having not yet satisfied my urge to dig for more info. “What’s he like, really?” I speak directly to Enzo.
“Truthfully, he’s all business, all the time. I’ve never met someone so focused on achieving something. I mean, yeah, we all hope to go pro, but Archer, it’s like it’s in his fucking blood. Like he bleeds fucking football. He’s special. I’ve played with enough talented guys to know that much.”
I don’t know why, but I’m actually kind of surprised to hear this. It’s pretty much the exact opposite of how I imagined him and sounds eerily like someone else I know...
“But what about outside of football?”
“He’s a good dude. Little quiet. Not a big partier. As I said, all business, all the time.”
“Then what about all the girls hanging all over him?”
“Even the hardest of workers have to have an outlet.” He lifts a shoulder in a half shrug, as if that’s any real explanation for running around like the campus whore.
I ignore the way Alina’s gaze burns holes in the side of my face.
