Page 77 of Ruthless Rose

Chapter 41

I’m totally glad that I’d made plans to do my spirit girl duties yesterday after school while I’d waited on Scarlett before our shopping trip. There’s no way I’d have time to get to school early this morning. I’d spent way too long in the shower, running my hands over my body and imagining what Micah sees and feels when he touches me. And I’m not nearly as good at getting myself off as he is, so I’d stood under the spray of the shower for a long, long time, pretending that the fingers on my clit were his. My legs had gotten so weak, I’m surprised I’d remained upright when my release ripped through me. And, holy crap, my mother knocked on the door as I was coming back to myself and asked in a cautious voice if I was okay or having some sort of issue. It didn’t dawn on me for several minutes after I’d assured her I was fine that I’d probably been moaning pretty loudly.

Oops.

After the shower this morning and my successful shopping trip yesterday with Scarlett, I’m feeling pretty good. I’d been able to find a gorgeous green dress that not only felt right when I put it on, but I’m pretty sure Micah will like, too. It still bothers me a bit that I used his money, but once I’d had some time to think about it, I knew Scarlett was right. If I were to show up in last year’s cast-off from the thrift store, everyone would notice. Nope. No can do. Mom had seemed relieved when I told her I’d managed to find something to wear—I think she assumes I borrowed it.

Tomorrow night, I’ll do my best impersonation of a Rose and hope I pull it off, thereby staying unnoticed.

I pull my long hair into a ponytail, secure the elastic, and give myself a once over in the mirror. I’ve put on a pair of skinny jeans and a tank top. Pulling Micah’s jersey over my head, I smile, even though I’m absolutely drowning in it. It’s like a dress on me. But it’s Micah’s. Number twelve.

At the last second, I pick up a tube of lip gloss and slick it over my lips. There. I draw in a deep, steadying breath. Ready.

I make my way down the stairs all decked out for Spirit Day. My parents have no idea I’m wearing Micah’s jersey today, and if they knew what I’ve been up to with him, they’d die on the spot.

The kitchen smells like fresh blueberry muffins, and I find Dad seated at the table, muffin in one hand and his phone in the other. As he sets eyes on me, his brows inch toward his hairline. “What’s this?” He clears his throat and sits up a little, scanning my outfit.

“What’s what?” Mom walks into the room, surprise lighting her eyes. “Oh, wow.”

“It’s nothing. Just a jersey. It’s Spirit Day.”

She laughs. “‘Just a jersey.’ I’m not buying that. Who’s number twelve?”

My parents probably aren’t aware of what my face looks like when I lie—because Daphne doesn’t do that—so I could probably get away with fibbing, except for the big R-O-B-E-R-T-S-O-N in bold letters stamped across my shoulders at the back of the jersey. “Micah.”

Dad clears his throat. “That’s the kid that was here that day you had to wash your car.”

I confirm, “Yep,” popping the P for emphasis.

Instead of asking me, his gaze slides to Mom. “What does it mean when a girl wears a boy’s football jersey?”

“Usually it means they’re dating.” She frowns. “I thought you were going to the homecoming dance with Max.” It comes out more like a question.

Dad grumbles under his breath. “Please let it be Max.”

“I am going with Max.” I chew on the inside of my cheek for a few seconds before I finally blurt, “But Micah asked me to wear his jersey, so I’m going to.”

Mom tilts her head. “Oh, okay, then. It’s nice to support the players.”

“That’s what I hear.” I jerk my thumb over my shoulder. “I’ve got to get going.”

Dad passes me a banana, his voice rumbling. “Eat something, would you?”

I give him a shrug. “Yep. Thanks.”

Sliding into the driver’s seat of my car, I chuck my bag and the banana onto the passenger seat before taking off. I have nerves twisting my stomach all the way to Rosehaven. I mumble under my breath. “Eat? How the hell can I eat?” I’m about to walk into the academy, claimed by Micah and his gigantic jersey, for all to see.

As I get to the parking lot, I grip the collar and tug it up under my nose, inhaling. It definitely still smells like him, kind of spicy and citrusy and manly all at once. I let go of the fabric and blow all of my breath out in a whoosh. Inhale. Let it back out. I’m calm. Everything is fine. Just walking into school in Micah’s jersey. No big deal. My heart isn’t racing, it’s going at freaking warp speed. Soon, I won’t be in the same galaxy, never mind at the same school, so it won’t matter what I’m wearing. That’s what it feels like anyway. I press my palm over my heart, willing it to slow. No such luck. It zooms off without me.

I find Scarlett, Max, Xander, Beau, and Micah all outside of Mrs. Harden’s classroom once again, hanging out before first period starts. Tucking my lower lip between my teeth, I quietly approach. Micah’s eyes light up when he sees me, and I wrinkle my nose, embarrassed.

“Nice jersey, sweetness!” Beau holds up his fist for a bump, and I cross the distance to him to return it, even though I feel like a big dork doing it. Scarlett pulls me over to her. She’s got Xander’s jersey on, but she also has his number written on her cheek. She holds up a chubby eye pencil of some sort. “You want?”

From behind me, Micah’s voice grits out, “Do it.” He settles his hands on my hips, and everyone looks on as Scarlett scrawls #88 on my cheek. I’m trying so hard not to grin, I’m afraid I look crazy. Because this is fun. And I never saw this for myself in a million years. That I’d actually enjoy something like this—that I’d fit in with a group of my peers in some way other than wearing a uniform.

Max smiles big as he looks at me and then at Micah. “You guys look really good together. I’m going to ask one mo—”

I hold up my hand. “No, you’re not. I’m going with you. Everything is already set.”

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