Page 80 of Just Playin'
Blonde hair whips up around Lillian’s face when I sidestep her with the skill that led to me being drafted as the number one pick out of college. I’ve slipped into the seat of my car and torn out of the parking lot before the shocked expression on her face can subside. A man of my size shouldn’t be able to move with such agility, but you’ll be surprised how lithe someone can be when their movements are being commanded by their heart instead of their head.
I pull into an empty space at the front of Willow’s dorm twenty minutes later. Not wanting to look like a complete moron, I swap out my cleats for a pair of running shoes and my jersey for a plain T. My pants will have to do.
The hard close of my door gains me numerous sets of eyes, but with the locals as pissed about my performance tonight as I am, none approach me. Good, because I don’t want any witnesses for the groveling I’m about to do. I didn’t mean the words I shouted earlier. I was frustrated and tired, but instead of taking my frustration out on the person responsible for it, I lashed out at the only one available.
While running my sweat-slicked hands down my pants, I climb the stairs two at a time. I’ve never been inside Willow’s dorm, but I know which room is hers. I doubt she shakes her ass in any random’s room.
The whiteboard hanging on her door rattles when I bang my hand on it. I hear a commotion like feet scuffling before a loud shriek. “I can’t believe he found me!”
Before my brain can decipher that the voice was missing Willow’s Australian twang, the door flings open. A pretty blonde with big blue eyes and a face full of 69er fan paint stands just inside the room. Her skin-tight 69er jersey and the number on her cheek is recognizable, as is her face. She’s Willow’s friend, the blonde who excited the fans alongside Willow when I let Lillian play with my emotions as much as she has the past two days.
The blonde bats her lashes at me as her tongue delves out to moisturize her top lip. “What can I do you for, Mr. Presley Carlton?”
“I’m looking for Willow. Is she here?”
Her throat works hard to swallow, her face shocked. “Willow?”
Shit, maybe I didn’t get the right room.
I step back to gather my bearings. There’s another door a few feet up, but half of Willow’s building is covered by the thick shrubbery Mickey’s planted as an environmentally friendly fence, so this has to be her room.
I return my eyes to the blonde. “Yeah, Willow Underwood. She’s around this tall. “ I hold my hand up to my nipples. “Has light blue eyes, crazy curls. She’s real pretty.”
“I know who she is; I’m just wondering why you’re looking for her.” The blonde sounds more annoyed than she was seconds ago.
“She’s my girlfriend.”I hope.
My ears ring when she squeals, “Your girlfriend?! Willow Underwood is your girlfriend?! For how long?”
Before I can answer, the blonde is pulled away from the door by her shoulder, and Willow takes her place. Her eyes aren’t red and puffy like Lillian’s got every single time she cried, but her cheeks are white, and her nostrils are red like she’s holding back the urge.
I want to break straight into a grovel but her friend’s eager eye has me playing it cool. “Hey—”
“What do you want, Elvis?”
Her friend shoves her hand under her arms and huffs. I’m not as quick to judge Willow’s snapped tone because I know what I said to her, and I’m man enough to admit it. “I made a mistake—”
My apology is cut short when she interrupts for the second time, “Yeah, you did.”
She blinks excessively when I fill the gap between us. “But not in the way you’re thinking. Nothing happened between Lillian and me. I’m not interested in her like that.”
Willow takes a page out of her friend’s book by crossing her arms in front of her chest and huffing. She doesn’t need words to call me out as a liar. She’s happy for her actions to speak on her behalf. She thinks I’m being dishonest with my disclosure that I have no interest in Lillian whatsoever.
“Why is that so hard for you to believe?”
She contemplates for barely a second before dragging her hand down her body. “Because I’m this. . .” She thrusts her hand at me before doing the same gesture she did to her body. “And you’re that.”
I feel anger rising from my gut to my cheeks. “That fire in your eyes better be there because of what Istupidlysaid in a moment of anger, but if it isn’t, and it’s what I think you’re trying to say, you better step the fuck back and take a goddamn hard look at yourself.”
I can tell my words hit her like a ton of bricks, but she plays it cool, acting as if the last three months haven’t transformed us from strangers to something much more fucking complicated.
“Do you want to know why I have no interest in Lillian?” Although I’m asking a question, I continue talking as if I didn’t. “Because she’s not you. She’s not a girl who’ll shake her ass like no one’s watching, or who is clueless about the number of admirers she gets when she enters the room. Everything I wished she could have been, you are. That’s why I have no interest in her. That’s why what youthoughtyou saw isn’t close to what it actually was. And that’s why I’m going to step back and let you work this out for yourself. Because if you haven’t already figured out why I’llalwayschoose you, maybe I was wrong, and maybe we aren’t right for one another.”
As hard as it is for me to do, I walk away.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Willow
