“You do?” How the hell. So much for forgetting about him.
“Top floor,” he answers but doesn't say anything else.
“You look pissed for a man who just won,” I tease with a small laugh, trying to break this weird tension that is quickly forming inside the elevator.
“It was a great game,” Zoey tosses in, likely feeling the weirdness too. He grunts a response. “I take it you're not going to the party.”
“Late dinner plans,” he answers her. I wonder if it’s with Tiffany. It is late. The game ended at nine, and it’s now pushing ten. I don’t think he’s going out for food. If I had to guess he is going out for sex.
“Have fun.” Zoey links her arm with mine when the elevator dings, and we step off before him. It takes everything inside of me to not turn and look back. It’s not until we’re a few blocks from our place that she finally says something.
“What the hell was that?”
“No clue,” I answer honestly.
“He was pissed.” That’s how it felt.
“I told you I was coming to meet you,” Reid shouts, coming into view down the long sidewalk. It might be nighttime, but the campus is lit up, and people are always coming and going. When he gets to us, he lifts Zoey off her feet, kissing her.
My heart flutters. I feel a sudden longing to experience what they have. That deep connection you can only have with a person you love. Coach Grayson comes to mind, but I push the thought away, knowing where he is right now.
“I need a drink,” I say when Reid puts Zoey back on her feet. He leads the way. I have to admit that I’m not as excited about going to the party as I was before.
“A drink?” Zoey asks.
“It’s college.” I shrug. “Time to try new things.”
“Okay,” she agrees, knowing Reid will keep an eye on both of us. I’m making it my mission to forget about Grayson once and for all. There really is no other choice.
4
Theodore
“Are you listening to me, Theodore?” I pause the game tape at my mom’s use of my full name and not Theo. Something has to be wrong; she never calls me that unless it’s serious. I hit the button to take the phone off speaker and lift it to my ear. “You can’t still be mad at me?” she huffs.
“Not mad at you.” I don’t think there has ever been a time I was actually mad at my mom. Annoyed? Sure, but I know whatever she does when it concerns me is always with good intentions. Her heart is in the right place, but sometimes she goes a little too far.
“I really thought you would hit it off with Tiffany.” I shut my laptop. Guilt clings to her words.
“Really? Is that the kind of woman you want me to marry?” There is a long pause. Something about Tiffany doesn’t work for me. It’s a gut feeling. One I choose to trust since it has never steered me wrong in the past.
The conversation with Tiffany wasn’t a sincere one. She kept pretending to be whoever she thought I would like or be attracted to. It’s not her fault, but she failed miserably. Hell, I don’t even know what my type is. A beautiful blonde comes to mind, but I push the thought out of my mind quickly. Not that it ever stays gone for long.
The dating thing wasn’t on my list of priorities in the past. I had been focused on football and making the NFL. Once I’d made it, I concentrated on putting my all on the field. It’s the same now with coaching the kids. I spend my time watching game tapes and strategizing plays. Football is my life. It’s been my partner for a very long time. Yet, seeing Willow had sparked something inside of me.
“Well, I thought she was nice.”
“Thought?” What has changed in the past few weeks? Tiffany and I had parted ways when we left the restaurant. She asked if I wanted her number, and I’d told her I could get it from my mom, which I never did. I didn't want the woman to have my phone number. And I sure as hell wouldn’t be calling her.
“She’s been pushy about me giving you her number. Last night at one of my fundraiser meetings she asked to borrow my phone. She kept going on about hers being dead. I let her, but after the fact, I thought maybe she only asked in order to get your number or something out of it.” I wouldn’t be surprised by that behavior from her.
“If she did, she hasn’t used it. I haven’t gotten any calls or texts from a number I don’t know. Last I saw her was that night we were all supposed to have dinner.” I emphasize the word all for good measure.
“I’m sorry!”
“Forgive your mother,” I hear my dad order in the background, making me smile. He can’t take my mother being upset for one second. I’ve never met a man that loves a woman more than my dad loves my mom.
“Nothing to forgive.”
“Oh, well then. There is actually.” Luckily I hear the locker room door open and voices start to drift towards my office, letting me know some of the boys are here for practice.
“I have to go, Mom.”
“All right. I love you.”
“Love you too,” I say before I end the call. I lean back, closing my eyes for a second. I should be in a good fucking mood. I won the first game of the season. How, I have no fucking clue. I was barely present. The whole time I kept thinking about the blonde seated behind me. I tried to ignore the pull I felt toward her, but I couldn’t.
The noise grows louder as I listen to my players bitch about the party last weekend. I shouldn't smile, but I do. I might have made a call and had it broken up. It was a bastard thing to do, but I was unable to help myself. The idea of these boys pawing at her had me seeing red for no reason.
This Willow girl won’t get out of my head. She is in my bones, and I can’t shake her. It’s been weeks, and this is still going on. Finding out she lives in the same building hasn’t helped the situation. I’ve been actively trying to avoid her at all costs, knowing the temptation is too great for me to resist. I know being caught alone with her would break my resolve.
I’m thankful that when she stepped onto that elevator that Zoey was with her. I don’t think I would have been able to hold back. I gritted my teeth the entire ride down to the lobby. Her sweet scent, a mix of cherries and vanilla, had filled the elevator, tempting me in a way that I’ve never experienced before. I had to keep my eyes trained forward after catching a glimpse of her outfit. The boots she was wearing were enough to give me a fucking heart attack.
“You want me in a red shirt?” Reid asks, throwing the door open to my office.
“Yes.” He almost looks disappointed that I don’t want him to get the shit knocked out of him.
“They aren't going to get their hands on me.”
“I know, because you’ll have a red shirt on.” I stand, grabbing the red shirt from one of the tables in my office and shoving it into his chest. “You got a good head on your shoulders. Let’s not knock it around too much.”
“Fine,” he grumbles, wanting a chance to show he’s quick on his feet. I know he is, but there is no point in risking it. He walks off with the shirt to go get ready. I do my usual rounds, stopping to talk to players and going over some of the things on the game tape I noticed. My ears perk up when I hear Willow’s name.