Page 113 of Crimson Promises
I wanted a chance to live and have friends and everything else I missed out on as a kid. I didn’t want to be a tool, a weapon, or a means to an end for somebody. I certainly didn’t want to be conquered because I posed some sort of challenge, either.
“I can do fun,” he smirked.
Thoughts of his constant attempts to move beyond making out the night of the house party came to mind. Contrasted to steamy windows after a mini-golf victory.
“I’ve seen your version of fun. I’m not sure?—“
I hadn’t noticed the hand that had been on my lower back had curled around my shoulder. Riley pulled his other arm around me and placed his index finger against my lips.
“Shh. You aren’t feeling one hundred percent yourself. Once you are feeling better, I’ll listen to whatever you have to say. I can almost guarantee I’ll have changed your mind by then.” His voice was dripping with confidence bordering on cockiness and not in an attractive manner.
I shove his hand away from my face. “Regardless of how I’m feeling, you should listen to what I’m saying. Trying to dismiss what I am vocalizing to you isn’t earning you any points. In fact, it’s doing the complete opposite.”
Riley shoved his hands into his jeans. “Come on, Aurora. I didn’t mean it like that. All I’m trying to do here is make sure you make it home safely.”
“And while I appreciate that. I didn’t ask you to. In fact, I’m pretty sure I requested the complete opposite.”
“I’m trying to be the gentleman my mother raised me to be.”
Pretty sure your mother wouldn’t count putting your hands near a woman’s face uninvited as gentlemanly behavior.
“Let’s respect each other's personal space,” I said. I hugged myself as we continued walking, ready to intervene if Riley thought he was able to get any closer.
The queasiness had begun to wear off, but I still felt dizzy, like I had just gotten off a ride of spinning teacups, and I was still sore to boot.
Riley kept shooting me glances out of the corner of his eyes. We had descended into an awkward silence over the last few blocks. At one point, I could have sworn he jutted his bottom lip into a baby pout.
“How’s football going?" I relented. "Do you think you guys can make it to the state finals?”
His chest puffed out at my question. Obviously, football was a comfortable topic. It was a deflection I was grateful for.
“Been goin’ great. We’ve been crushing it. Derek has been catching all the passes I’ve been throwing at him. Sometimes, if I close my eyes, I think I can feel where he is exactly on the field. He always meets my eyes at the exact moment he needs to. The guy dips and pivots his way to create openings. We’re an unstoppable force. We have the big game against Bay City, our biggest rivals. You’re still coming, right?”
“I am?” I almost choked on my saliva.
“At dinner, you said you wouldn’t miss it.”
Everything about that dinner felt like a blur of stolen kisses, swollen lips, and frustration.
“If that’s what I said, I’ll be there. When is it again?”
“Six weeks, the last Friday of the month. We have home-field advantage. Bay City will wish they never set foot on my campus.”His campus?
“Everyone’s been talking about it.” The entire campus had been buzzing about the upcoming game. I’d been a little distracted to pay too much attention to it. But hometown rivals and big plays—that’s all I had craved when I first got here. To blend in and get the authentic college experience. Was I really willing to give that up?
“Perfect. I want the stadium to be so packed that their screams drown out Bay City’s concentration.”
I frowned. “That doesn’t sound fair to the other team.”
“Who cares about fairness? This is war, Rory, for the state championships. If they aren’t willing to go to the same extent, they don’t deserve to make it to the finals, simple as that.”
“I didn’t think it was that serious.”
He massaged the edge of his jaw. It was chiseled and square. He had a little bit of scruff since I had seen him last. It suited him. Riley was the epitome of an Abercrombie and Fitch ad.
“The last two years of university football is what I worked my entire life for. These handful of games determine if I’ll ever be able to play pro or not. I can’t be the next Tom Brady if I don’t get drafted. And I can’t get drafted if we don’t win against Bay City, where Coach already warned us scouts will be watching. Everything about this is serious.”
“I didn’t realize the weight the game carried,” I said, the tips of my ears turning pink. “Where I come from, there isn’t this much attention given to university-level sports. People were hyped about pro sports, that’s about it.”
