“How’s my little mouse?”
It was ridiculous, how those four words from my father nearly made me burst into tears. They filled my eyes without warning as I walked across campus two days later, tucking my coat more around me to shield from the brutal wind.
“I’m good, Dad,” I lied, but couldn’t stop myself from sniffing to keep the tears at bay, as well as the snot running from the sudden onslaught of emotions.
“Mmm,” he responded, and we both knew he was well aware that I was not okay. “Did you hear that Laura is receiving an award for the research she did last semester?”
“Really?” Instantly, my emotions stabled — which was likely why Dad had changed the subject. He knew when I wanted to talk and when I wanted to hermit. “That’s incredible.”
“Your mother and I are going to visit for the ceremony next month. I thought maybe we could come visit you, too. It’s when you have a home game against the Hawks. We’d love to see you in action out there on the field.”
I let out a bit of a laugh on my next breath because he and I both knew that it was I, not we, that belonged in that sentence.
“You know I don’t suit up and play football, right?”
“And you know that I see you working hard on the sidelines every game, right?”
I stopped mid-stride, emotion strangling me once again. “You do?”
“Of course, I do, my little mouse. And I watched every interview you did for the auction Friday night, too. You’re very well-spoken, young lady. I was highly impressed.”
The compliment mixed with the pride I heard in his voice made me smile, but it slipped quickly when I remembered the auction I’d been trying to forget. Yesterday was easy. It was game day, full of reporters and wrangling the team. But today was Sunday, a day of rest, a day where I didn’t have class or anything with the team to keep me busy.
And so I was drowning in my thoughts.
Clay had rejected me.
There was no way to sugarcoat it, to explain it or make an excuse for the way he’d walked away from me when I was literally stripped bare for him. It was the most vulnerable I’d ever been with him, with anyone, and he’d turned me down.
As much as my stomach curled in on itself with that feeling of dismissal, another emotion battled with it, one that reminded me of the desperation with which I’d launched myself at Clay without warning. I hadn’t told him that was the night, hadn’t prepared him for anything.
But that was exactly what I’d felt — desperation.
I was losing him, losing us, and so I tried to cling to him even as Maliyah slipped her arms around him and pulled him from me. Of course, he wouldn’t want to have sex with me when Maliyah literally paid thousands of dollars to prove she wanted him back now.
This was what was always supposed to happen.
And yet now that it was, I was thrashing.
“Save me a father-daughter dinner when we come?” Dad asked, breaking the silence I’d left him with.
I let out a slow exhale. “I’d love that.”
“Me, too. Until then, promise me you’ll take care of yourself?”
“Promise,” I managed, though my voice was weak.
“I love you, Giana. Remember everything is temporary.”
Those words, though well-intentioned, made my nose sting with another wave of nausea. He meant to assure me that no matter what I was going through, it wouldn’t last forever, that everything would eventually be okay.
But he only reminded me of what was causing the pain in the first place.
Everything is temporary.
First and foremost, whatever relationship I had with Clay.
“Love you, Dad,” I whispered, and then I pulled out my phone, ending the call and tugging my earbuds out of my ears. I tucked them back into my pocket along with my phone before heaving myself onto the nearest bench, one that overlooked a small pond on campus.
The bitter wind swept over my already-chilled face, making my eyes water as a hundred more colorful leaves were swept from tree limbs and blown across the park. It was quiet on campus, between it being a weekend day and the freezing temperature, most students were in their dorms resting or boozing it up in one of the many favorite brunch places.
Hearing from my dad should have brought me peace and comfort, but it somehow did the opposite. I found myself wishing I’d taken the time to make more friends when I moved to NBU, that I hadn’t spent all my time either with my books or my internship. I thought about calling Riley, but knew she’d be spending the day after a game win celebrating or resting with Zeke — as she should.
The one person I wanted to call, to be with, hadn’t talked to me since he walked out of my apartment after I threw myself at him.
I was alone.
So alone I felt like I didn’t exist.
“Well, there’s a pretty face I haven’t seen in far too long.”
I blinked out of my haze, looking up to find Shawn strolling toward me. He wore a dark, forest green peacoat and a pecan brown scarf wrapped around his neck. His nose was pink, breath coming in little white puffs from his lips as he took the seat next to me.
Right next to me.
His body heat enveloped me as his thigh pressed against mine. “It’s fucking brutal out here today, eh?” He shook his head, looking over the pond before his eyes flashed down to where my hands were clasped in my lap. “Jesus, you don’t have gloves on?”
Before I could respond — to any of his greetings — he pulled his glove-covered hands from his pockets and reached for me, pulling my hands into his.
He smoothed the warm fabric over my icy digits, and then, carefully, he pulled my hands up toward his mouth, blowing hot breath on them before he rubbed them between his palms once more.
And I must have been about to start my period because my eyes flooded with tears when he did.
“Hey,” he said, frowning, his grip tightening on my hands. “What’s wrong?”
I shook my head, pulling my bottom lip between my teeth in an attempt to keep my shit together as I stared down at our hands, vision blurring and fogging up my glasses. Just a few weeks ago, I would have had a stomach full of butterflies seeing that, feeling him holding me in such an intimate manner.
But now, all I could do was think of another pair of hands, larger and rougher and so familiar with me now that they felt like my own.
“Come here,” Shawn said when I didn’t answer, and he tucked me under his arm, wrapping me in a warm embrace and shielding me from the wind. He was quiet for a long while before he finally asked, “It’s Clay, isn’t it?”
I buried my face in his chest more, heart squeezing just from the sound of his name.
Shawn let out a long, slow breath, and for the longest time, he just held me, his hands smoothing over my arms to warm me through my jacket that was doing a poor job. After a while, he gently pulled back, still holding me but waiting until I lifted my gaze to meet his.
“I hate to leave you like this, but I’m playing at the coffee shop. My set starts in twenty minutes. Do you want to come?”
I shook my head immediately, but couldn’t find the word to tell him I wasn’t up for anything right now, least of all a crowded café.
He nodded in understanding. “Look, I don’t want to overstep, Giana, but… do you think…” He paused, swallowing. “Could we maybe hang out Friday night?”
I blanched. “What?”
“Is that all I had to do to get you to speak? Ask you on a date?” Shawn smirked.
I couldn’t help the genuine chuckle that left me then, and I wiped the wrist of my jacket against my nose. “I have a boyfriend,” I reminded him, though my conviction was weak.
“To be honest?” Shawn dipped his gaze until I was looking at him again. “I don’t care. Not when he treats you like this.”
My brows bent inward, heart squeezing in my chest at the insinuation that Clay treated me any way but with respect. But this was the picture we’d painted for Shawn, that Clay was a cocky athlete, that he neglected me, that I couldn’t see that I deserved better.
This had been the plan for me.
While we’d played the game to get Maliyah back in his life, we’d also weaved the perfect story to get Shawn in mine.
And both had worked.
This was what I’d wanted. This was what Clay had offered to help with, what I’d asked him to prepare me for in more ways than he originally signed up for.
Shawn Stetson was asking me out.
So why was my throat shutting down at the thought of saying yes?
“Hey, I’ll behave,” he promised, smiling when he saw the worry in my eyes. “Just friends. We can hang out as just friends, right?”
I let out a long breath. “I don’t see why not.”
His smile widened. “Great. I actually have a Friday night without a gig for once. What do you say we keep it low key… you come over to my place? We can talk, get to know each other, maybe watch a movie?”
My cheeks warmed with that last part, because we all knew what watch a movie meant in college.
But this was what I’d been planning for, what I so painstakingly wished for. Even now, the thought of Shawn leaning in to close what little distance was still between us, the idea of him kissing me? It was intoxicating.
Maybe I was just reading too much into everything with Clay. Maybe I’d let my feelings get caught up in something we both agreed to keep feelings out of.
Everything we’d done, it was all fake.
The public appearances, the hand holding, the kissing, even the nights he’d shown me how to please myself, how to please him… it had all been a ruse.
Clay had Maliyah now. He’d proven Friday night when he’d walked away from me that that was what he wanted.
He wasn’t caught up in feelings for me.
I was a fool to stay tangled up in mine for him.
“I’d love that,” I finally answered, holding my chin higher. “I really would.”
And just like that, I had a date with Shawn Stetson.
Clay
I looked like an absolute idiot as I walked across campus, the bouquet of flowers in my hand blowing precariously in the wind. More and more petals blew off and joined the decaying leaves rapidly covering the grass, and try as I did, I couldn’t shield them enough to save them.
“Giana, I know I don’t deserve it, but I want to explain why I left Friday night,” I mumbled to myself, reciting the words I’d planned out in my head. “It wasn’t because I didn’t want you. Trust me,” I breathed. “I wanted you so fucking badly I could barely breathe when I left.”
My chest stung with that, the memory of leaving her, of her wide eyes and quivering lip when I turned my back and walked out of her apartment. It wasn’t my brightest move, but then again, I knew if I stayed, I would have taken her. I wouldn’t have been able to resist her, not with her bare before me and begging me to have my way.
It had hit me like a sledgehammer to the head, my feelings for Giana, and it had taken me all weekend to untangle them.
Yesterday, football was my focus. It had to be. As a student athlete on scholarship, I had one job to do, and for the hours that stretched before the game until I was showering after the game last night, that was where my head was. We secured another win, steering us closer and closer to another bowl game.
This year, we wanted the bowl game, the one that would lead us to the championship.
If it was possible, we were on fire even more so than last season. We’d had a lot of new blood, myself included, and had to learn how each other worked, how to jell. This season, we were becoming more and more comfortable, running plays like we knew them better than the back of our hands.
It was all falling into place.
But the second the game was over, my mind shifted gears, and all thoughts were wrapped up in Giana.
Or should I say, ninety percent of them — the other ten were reserved for Mom, especially when I applied for a student loan late last night. It hadn’t been something I’d needed up until this point. My scholarship covered my tuition, books, dorm, and fees, and even gave me enough to live on — especially considering most of my meals were at the stadium.
But I had drained my savings helping Mom pay bills and get by, and rent was due next week.
It was a small loan, one I hoped I could pay off easily once I was drafted with a signing bonus. Still, my ribcage ached when I hit the submit button, when I got the automatic approval and realized I was in debt for the first time in my life.
It was so easy to do, and now, I understood why so many people were crushed beneath the weight of it.
“Don’t worry,” I’d told Mom after the loan was secured. “I will take care of you.”
“You always have,” was her response.
I still wasn’t over my anger with my father, either. I couldn’t understand how he could so easily turn his back on his family when we needed him.
But then again, we weren’t his family — not his primary one, anyway. We were a past life, one he clearly wanted to leave behind.
I sniffed against the fierce wind, a cool resolve sinking over me along with it. We didn’t need him. We would be just fine.
It had been a tornado of emotions over the last week, especially over the last seventy-two hours, and I couldn’t contain the hope that bubbled in my heart at the thought of telling Giana how I felt about her and having her reciprocate it.
I could see it already, her eyes watering as I pulled her into me. I could feel her lips on mine, her body melting as I held her, could taste her tongue and hear the sweet moans she saved only for me.
But there was a niggling fear tickling at my stomach as I approached her building, because I knew the other way this could go, too.
The truth was I didn’t know where her head was at, where her heart was at.
And the only way to find out was to put my own on the line.
I lifted my hand to ring the buzzer for her apartment, but before I could, I heard my name behind me.
“Clay?”
I turned, finding Giana shivering in a jacket I knew couldn’t be keeping her warm in this cold front that had swept in over the city.
Her eyes were dark, underlined with a deep purple that told me she hadn’t slept, her face red and blotchy like she’d been crying. Or maybe it was just the wind. Either way, she looked how I felt — emotionally drained.
She blinked at me, then at what was left of the flowers in my hand. She swallowed when she saw them, then held her chin higher, and I swore I saw her slip on a mask of indifference right in front of me.
“I was just about to text you once I got home,” she said, plastering on a smile as she shimmied past me and unlocked the door. We both ushered inside, the warmth welcome after being in the blistering wind. “You’re never going to believe what happened.”
I followed her up the stairs to her apartment as she peeled off her scarf and coat, and my heart hammered harder and harder in my chest with every step knowing the words I would say once we were inside her apartment.
“So, I was walking around campus, just…” She paused, eyeing me over her shoulder before she hit the top stair and unlocked her apartment door. “Enjoying the weather,” she finally said. “And who do I run into?”
She pushed the door open, slipping in first before I followed and shut the door behind us.
“Shawn.”
She whipped around as she said the name, her turquoise eyes catching mine just as her rosy cheeks lifted with the wide spread of her lips.
That blooming smile formed a knot in my throat, one I couldn’t swallow past as Giana hung up her coat and scarf before reaching for the flowers in my hand.
“Oh, yeah, I… I got these for you,” I said lamely, cringing a bit when she took them and surveyed the broken stems and ragged petals still holding on. “They looked a lot better before my walk.”
Giana smiled, though it was weak, a flash of something in her eyes as she looked at the flowers, then at me, then turned for her kitchen. She pulled a small vase from under the sink and began snipping the flower stems and arranging the ones that had survived.
“Anyway, so we talked a bit and…” She bit her lip, doing a little bounce when she looked up at me again. “He asked me on a date!”
Rage simmered in my chest. “He what?”
“I know, right?!” Giana mistook my question for pleasant surprise rather than the anger that it was. “It’s crazy. You really know what you’re doing,” she added with a wink.
“That motherfucker asked you on a date when you have a boyfriend?”
“Well, technically he just asked to hang out. As friends,” she said with a knowing grin. “To watch a movie.”
My hands curled into fists at my side, and I gritted my teeth together to keep from roaring at the bastard’s audacity. “What a disrespectful creep.”
Giana rolled her eyes, leveling her gaze at me before she snipped the stem of an orange daisy-looking flower and plopped it into the vase. “Oh, come on, this is what we’ve been goading him to do this whole time. Remember? It was your idea to play the part of neglectful boyfriend.”
She said the words so playfully, like nothing had happened between us Friday night, like everything was completely normal and we were still faking a relationship.
Like we were nothing but friends.
“I just can’t believe it worked,” she almost whispered, shaking her head with a dazed smile as she finished the last of the flowers. She shook her head then. “Anyway, I need your help. What do I wear? And what do I do? I mean, we both know what watch a movie means.”
She waggled her brows with that, turning to press onto her tiptoes and reach for something on top of her fridge just before my fury made an appearance. I tried my best to school it before she turned around, tea kettle in her hand.
“Want some?” she asked.
I think I nodded. Or maybe I shook my head. I couldn’t be sure, because I was rounding into the kitchen with one thing on my mind. “So, wait, you’re just going to go over to his place and hang out?”
“Yes.”
I blinked. “You realize what that means, right?”
“Yes,” she said on a grin, almost like she was exhausted. “That’s what I was trying to say. I mean… what if he wants to… you know.”
I couldn’t fucking breathe.
“You don’t have to move fast.”
“What if I want to?”
The words shot from her lips, all smiles gone as she pursed them and leaned a hip against the stove. She folded her arms over her chest, lifting her chin a bit as I stared back at her.
“I’m ready,” she said. “I’ve been ready. I want it.”
My eyelids fluttered at hearing those words from her, desperation surging over me.
“I want to know what it feels like, what all of it feels like,” she whispered, her eyes falling to rest somewhere on the ground between us. She smiled, dazed, and then looked at me again. “Especially after the previews you’ve given me.”
She said it as a joke, even punctuating it with a little laugh as she took the kettle to the sink and filled it with water before setting it on the stove top and flicking on the burner.
“I just need to know what to wear. I mean, I want to be casual, comfortable, but also cute. Like, I know what to wear to a dinner date, but what do you wear when you’re just going to someone’s dorm?”
She bit her lip, and then rambled on, something about maybe she could wear her gray joggers and a tank top, something that would show her cleavage. Or maybe I made that part up. Maybe I was driving myself mad with my worst nightmare, with imagining Shawn peeling those sweatpants off her the way I had the first night she’d let me touch her.
I blacked out as she continued talking, not registering a word of it. My entire plan blew up in a nuclear fashion right before my eyes.
I was too late.
I’d missed my one shot to tell her how I felt.
Just two nights ago, she was naked and clinging to me, kissing me desperately, begging for me.
Now, I knew I’d never touch her again.
Shawn had seen his opportunity, and he’d made his move.
Then again, if she’d so willingly agreed, did I really ever have a shot with her in the first place? Was it all really fake to her, void of feelings?
Was I just a friend in her eyes?
Thought after thought pummeled me like relentless waves crashing against a jagged shoreline until it was too much to bear the weight of. Between my father, my mother, Maliyah, and now this? I couldn’t swim anymore. I couldn’t fight to keep my head above water.
So, I took one last breath, one last longing look at Giana as she lit up talking about what her date would be like with another man.
Then, I let myself sink down to the bottom, and I sat there, vision blurring through the salty water, slowly drowning, but not struggling to save myself.
This whole thing had been my plan, my idea.
And now, I had no choice but to lie in the watery bed I’d made.
