Page 88 of Hate To Love You

Ryker missed our literary criticism class for the past two days, so I took the liberty of gathering all the notes and work he’s missed so I can help him with it later.

I told Professor Whitely everything so she didn’t think Ryker was just skipping class, and she of course already knew. His father must have called the dean to let him know. Or maybe Dean Ashby heard about the game the other night. Either way, everyone is aware of what’s going on.

I haven’t heard from Ashton since the game, thank God. When I saw Ryker get hit, the food in my hands fell to the ground, and I didn’t even look back at Ashton as I took off running toward the field.

I’m pretty sure there were people yelling at me to get off, but I couldn’t hear them. My ears were ringing, and my heart was pounding, the adrenaline in my body was higher than it had ever been.

All I saw out of my periphery was some guy, probably around the same size as Ryker, running straight for him and tackling him to the ground.

My head whipped around to see what had happened, and then I noticed Ryker on the ground, curled into a fetal position, his arm squeezing his torso. He wouldn’t get up, and that made me panic.

I’ve never felt that kind of fear in my life. Watching Ryker get hurt made me feel things I didn’t even know were possible.

In books, authors often write about how it feels like time stops when something traumatic happens, and that’s exactly how it felt. It felt like time had frozen and everything else wasn’t there. It was just me and Ryker.

I watched as some guys from the other team pulled the mammoth of a man away from Ryker and take him off the field. Ellington won the game by default, and Coach Shaw was pissed. He yelled at Weston U’s coach for what seemed like forever.

When they brought the stretcher over to pick Ryker up and wheel him into the nearby ambulance, I just stood there, completely frozen. I vaguely remember Pat and Holland telling me it would be okay and to go back to my house and wait for news.

Obviously, I ignored them because I am not good at being told what to do.

As I work on an assignment for my elementary education class, my phone vibrates on the bed next to me. Ryker’s name appears on the screen, and I swear to God my heart almost leaps out of my chest. I have never gotten this excited to see a guy’s name on my phone.

Arrogant Asshole (Ryker Steele)

Arrogant Asshole (Ryker Steele)

Can I come over?

Me

Now?

Arrogant Asshole (Ryker Steele)

Yes.

I look at the time. It’s a little past midnight. I don’t even hesitate.

Me

Yes.

Shit. I haven’t even showered, my hair is up on the top of my head in a mess of curls, and I have no makeup on my face. Why didn’t I tell him to wait?

The butterflies in my stomach are going haywire as I think about seeing Ryker for the first time in three days. It’s been agonizing not being able to touch him and be near him.

I don’t know how I’m going to go all winter break without being with him when we’re both back at home.

It occurs to me now that I have no idea where Ryker lives. We’ve spent so much time together, but I still know very little about him. He knows more about me than I do about him, and that makes me a bit uneasy.

Tossing my laptop to the side, I jump into action, immediately running to my bathroom and turning on the shower. Ryker will literally be here any minute, so I need to be quick.

After my five-minute shower, I wrap myself in a towel and leave the bathroom, my hair still in a bun.

My heart stops and I scream when I see Ryker already lying on my bed, looking as sexy as ever with his army green joggers and the black t-shirt hugging his muscles.

His black hair looks messy as if he’s been lying down and hasn’t brushed it, but he makes it look so fucking good. His green eyes move up and down my body as I stand there clutching the towel around me.

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