Page 65 of A Quarterback for Christmas

“Is there something that you want, Bella? Because I need to go back upstairs before the team thinks I’m taking an extremely long dump.”

That’s all I am now. A steaming pile of potential shit, and it’s my fault. I pushed him away, so he’s pushing me right back. I guess I forgot just how eligible he was.

“I just wanted to apologize for how things went down between us.” Admitting my feelings to him now seems pointless, and I’m not a masochist. If I tell him, he’ll tell me he doesn’t feel the same, and then we’ll just end with this simmering awkward tension between us.

“Apology accepted.” Short and to the point. It’s like he switched his emotions off.

“Doesn’t feel like it,” I mutter, moving out of his way so he can leave. My eyes are burning. It’s the first time I’ve felt something for a guy that wasn’t embarrassment. Jimmy made a fool of me, but Drew’s made a mess of me, and I don’t think it can be fixed.

“What do you want me to do, Bella? Get down on my knees and praise you for being such a wholly wonderful person because you apologized for being an ass?”

“No, but -”

“Great. So, now that you’ve made yourself feel better, I’m heading out. Don’t want to miss the fourth quarter.”

He shuts the door behind him, not once looking back, and it’s then I realize how much I’ve fucked up. Just like always. Jacob was wrong. He doesn’t care about me anymore. This time, Drew really does hate me, and I hate myself for letting it get this far, but there’s nothing more I can do.

Chapter 16

Bella

Patting down the fabric of my skirt, I look in the mirror and smile. This should do the trick if I accidentally bump into Drew today. Regret is a fickle emotion, and I want him to regret everything.

“Really?” My roommate, Marissa, watches me while stuffing a few Cheetos in her mouth. “You’re going out in a skirt again?” She raises a brow pointedly and shakes her ginger head like a disapproving mother.

I shrug, not making eye contact, and pat down the green and black plaid fabric instead. The little homage to the school colors is purely accidental, but if I happen to see a certain football player, I’m hoping the cheerleader-esque look might garner his attention, even if it’s just for a few seconds.

“Why not? Now that I’m cast-free and can shave both my legs, I feel like I need to show it off.”

Marissa laughs, typing something on her laptop before bringing all her attention back to me. “Yeah, but we aren’t in Tampa, and it’s colder than Iceland at night out there. I didn’t think you had a death wish, but if going out and freezing to death floats your boat, then who am I to judge?”

She raises her knee, cuddling it close to her chest while she watches me put some clear lip gloss on. “Okay, seriously, don’t bend forward like that. Your ass is showing.”

“Don’t worry,” I hum, tossing the lip gloss onto my desk. “I’ve got shorts on.”

“So not the point.”

“Come on. It’s not that bad. I’ve stood out in worse weather with less on.” The day I stood outside with my crutches and just Drew’s t-shirt comes to mind.

Marissa’s eyebrows furrow. “Do I want to know?”

“Probably not.” I laugh and do one final twirl in the mirror. The skirt flips up, but I like it.

“Where are you going so early, anyway? I didn’t think you had classes on Wednesdays?”

“I don’t. I’m going to the gym for a physiotherapy session my dad arranged for me.”

A wry smile grows on her face. “Ah, that explains it,” she says while smugly popping another Cheeto in her mouth.

I turn on my heel, enjoying how my skirt flits with the movement. If Drew sees me in this, he’ll surely flip and have to start answering my texts. “Explains what?”

“Why you’re dressed like a naughty school girl looking to get spanked.” I have no words.

“Don’t worry.” She giggles. “Everyone dresses up for him. It’s natural to want to look your best.” Marissa waves off her comment like it’s no big deal, but my heart is firmly beating out of its chest with all the questions whirring through my brain.

Who else is dressing up for Drew? Does she know about what happened? Who else knows? Why is everyone else interested in him too?

“Th-Th-They d-d-do?” Maybe this skirt won’t be enough to get his attention, that is, if I see him. It’s been days since the bathroom incident, and Drew’s been ignoring my texts longerthan he ever answered them. He’s keeping me on my toes, and I don’t know if it’s because he’s trying to teach me a lesson or if he genuinely has moved on.

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