Page 52 of Blindside Me
My smile is gone when he ends the call and turns back to me. “Popular tonight, aren’t we?”
“It’s nothing.” He shoves his phone back in his pocket. “It was nothing. Just a classmate.”
“Right. Well, don’t let me keep you from your fan club.” I drop my brush in the water jar, hard enough to splash. “Captain Overkill.”
He flinches at the nickname, catching the edge in my voice. “Why are you mad?”
I start cleaning up, but my movements are too sharp and efficient. Why am I mad? We’re not dating. We’re not anything. But do I like hearing him make plans with another girl? No. And that’s the scary part.
I shake off his question. “Why would I be mad? We barely hooked up. You can talk to whoever you want.”
He scoots closer as I gather supplies. “Are you mad because I didn’t shut her down fast enough?”
I whirl, almost bumping his chest. “You didn’t shut her down at all. You didn’t even tell her you were with someone.”
“I didn’t realize I was with someone.” His eyes search mine.
That stings more than I want to admit. But isn’t that what I’ve been avoiding? Labels. Expectations. The risk of caring too much.
“I just meant tonight. You didn’t tell her you were with someone right now.”
“But do you want more?”
I look down, gripping a paint jar. I could lie and say there’s no way we could ever be more, especially given the no-fly zone my uncle placed around me. I could also change the subject. But maybe it’s time I stop running.
“I honestly don’t know. It seems complicated right now.”
“The timing is off, but that sort of thing can’t be dictated, right?”
“You don’t understand. It’s more than my uncle forbidding you to date me.”
“What do you mean?”
“Do you know why I transferred here?”
“Just that you got into some sort of trouble.” He shrugs, almost smiling. “Which doesn’t surprise me.”
I punch his arm playfully. “I transferred to Cessna because of my ex.”
That gets his attention. He waits, letting me continue. “Roman’s a senior, already drafted into the NHL. We were going to do long-distance. We even talked it out.”
Drew goes still, as recognition flashes in his eyes. “Roman. As in Roman Beaulier?”
“The very one.”
“Fuck.” He scrubs a hand through his dark hair, exhaling hard. “That does complicate things.”
“Yeah.”
“So what happened?”
“The day after our talk, I came back to my dorm early and found him with my roommate.”
Drew’s jaw clenches. His hands curl at his sides. “Jesus.”
“But that’s not the worst part. He knew how to make it hurt.”
“He hit you?”
