Page 27 of A Quarterback for Christmas

Clenching and unclenching my fists, my gaze flicks to the front door. What I wouldn’t give for the blizzard to break so I could go for a run and get some air. She hates me, and I love my coach. I need to keep my distance, and that damn snow is slowly destroying my sanity.

I turn away and close my eyes. Maybe if I put enough weight on one of these machines, it will hurt enough that I’ll forget about the painfully obnoxious girl out there who happens to be taking up all the extra space in my head.

Chapter 8

Bella

My stomach growls, and I gnaw at my lip, staring down the hallway to Drew’s room as though a mythical being might appear any minute. But there’s nothing. Nothing has moved down that hallway since Drew walked down it last night, leaving me with nothing but naughty thoughts and confused expectations.

What the hell had gotten into him?

Drew was cocky, angry, and…Well…Hot. It felt like he was taking control of the situation for the first time and then just as I thought we were getting to the good part, he walked out like it was nothing. Now he’s left me sitting here, stewing in thoughts that are far from appropriate, and I don’t know what to do.

The only explanation I have is that he’s freezing me out after I challenged his manhood, and this is my punishment. To die, malnourished without any bathroom breaks. Easy for him to be so casual about it. He’s got everything he needs in his room: a bathroom and a bed. Hell, I bet he’s even got a secret stash of Flamin’ Hot Doritos like Marissa. He’ll roll through this snowstorm like it’s a breeze on a sunny day. The only evidence of my time here will be my skeleton with this stupid snotty cast on.

I knew I was hard to live with, but I didn’t realize forty-eight hours would drive him to such regret over helping me that hewas willing to let me die of starvation while I spent far too long thinking about his manhood.

What’s eating away at me slowly though, is not that he walked out angry but that he left me with some heavy innuendos. He said he couldn’t stop thinking about me in the shower, or at least that’s what he heavily implied, and it was right after talking about how big he was downstairs. I’d never really tempted fate and thought about Drew’s manhood before, but now that he’s brought it up, I can’t stop thinking about it.

Which I’m guessing is the point.

He wants to punish me. To let me fester in my own thoughts because I’m a prickly bitch around him and can’t say please or thank you. Maybe I should have been more hospitable, considering he’s the only reason I’m breathing right now, but even if I wanted to, it’s too late. Drew’s not leaving his room anytime soon.

My stomach growls again, and as much as I want to go into the kitchen and cook some of Jacob’s frozen meals, I’m concerned I’ll burn the house down, knowing my culinary skills. Sadly, I need Drew’s help, and I think the only way I will get it is to knock on his door and ask for it.

Sighing, I scrape my hand across my face and stare at the abyss leading to Drew’s door. I guess I’m going to have to make the first move. I roll over, grab my crutches, and head to his room. My body heats as I walk past the bathroom as I remember how it all ended for me last time, and I'm exhausted by the time I get to Drew’s door. Maybe Drew was right. I need to eat more to maintain my muscle mass.

As I lean against his door to catch my breath, I can hear him talking to someone on the other side.

I should probably leave him to his conversation, but much like the other day when playing that video game, curiosity gets the better of me because I want to know if Jacob is outing me.

Leaning my ear against the wood, I strain to listen.

“I know, Ma. I’m sorry, too.” Drew sighs. Even with just those few words, I can hear the exhaustion lacing his voice.

“Aunt Kelly is still coming on Christmas Day, right? Good. Also, did some packages arrive for me? Yeah, they’re your gifts. I planned on wrapping them once I got home.”

He sighs again, and my heart prickles with something other than resentment.

“No, don’t wait for me. I won’t be able to come back for a couple of months now. I know. It would have been nice to spend Christmas together for once.”

For once.

Those two words ring in my head because all I can think about is Drew as a little kid spending Christmas alone.

I roll my back onto the door and drop my head against it, making as little noise as possible. I close my eyes and focus on my breathing. Here I am, frantically thinking about myself and how muchthis has ruined my Christmas, that I forgot his was ruined too. Drew could have dropped me off at the hospital and driven home in that stupid G Wagon of his. He could be with his mom right now, spending potentially his first Christmas with her, but instead, he’s stuck with me. He only stayed to help me, and I repaid him by being a prickly, snooping bitch.

Leaning on my crutches, I make my way back to the living room and plop down onto the couch, thinking about everything I’ve put him through the last couple of days. Guilt sits heavy in my stomach, and the glaring fact that I couldn’t even spit out a thank you makes me feel uneasy. I don’t think of myself as a particularly mean person, hard-shelled – yes, but mean? No. However, my attitude has been too harsh, even for me.

Today, I need to be different. I can’t keep making snarky comments under my breath while he helps me. Mainly because he deserves better treatment and getting him angry risks himsaying more confusing things that will have me up until I can leave this place. It’s Christmas tomorrow, and as much as it pains me to admit it, I need to make sure Drew’s day isn’t terrible.

Scanning the room, I see the board games sitting in the cubby under the TV. Maybe I can entice him to play since there’s no football on today. Hobbling over to the games, I grab theMonopolyboard and toss it toward the coffee table. Then I crawl (because it’s easier than using my crutches again) over to the fireplace. After turning the fire on, I crawl back to the sofa and set up the game. Looking closer, I laugh because this isn’t a normalMonopolygame. It’s a St. Michael’s tribute version.

There’s no dog or top hat for the pieces, so I grab the pizza piece for me and the football one for Drew, and dish out the cash, tucking it slightly under the board so it doesn’t fly away. After setting everything up, I wipe my hands off and sit back. With the snow falling outside and the fireplace as the only light, the room is cozy, and if I were with anyone else, I’d say, it almost feels romantic. Maybe this is why Drew prefers to stay off Frat Row. It’s easier to impress Brianna in a quiet house like this than around a bunch of drunken college kids.

My gaze drifts to the hallway for the slightest second before dropping to the game. It’s been thirty minutes since I eavesdropped on Drew, and he still hasn’t made a peep. My curiosity grows with each passing minute.

Is he still talking to his mom? Or is he talking to someone else? Brianna maybe? I run my hand across my face, remembering that I still haven’t told him I talked to Jacob, pretending to be him. No doubt Jacob will out me soon, so I should just admit it to Drew before he confronts me. It’s not like I found out anything juicy. I still have no idea who Jacob was talking about, or why Drew’s hung up on a girl I’m almost certain he hasn’t seen in three years because as far as I know, all thegirls in our high school class are across the country, not thinking about Drew.

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