by Ella Maise
I could see recognition set in, and I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a very bad thing. He asked, “I know you, right?” Before I could try to come up with more words, his mouth transformed and he was offering me a big smile, a smile I’d happened to find very attractive a year before.
“There you are,” he said, finally breaking the awkward silence.
Not sure what that meant, I cleared my throat. “Uh, yeah…?” Moving very slowly, I tugged at my hand and managed absolutely nothing.
His smile only got bigger, and instead of letting me go, his grip tightened just a fraction, there then gone. “I thought I’d see you again, eventually—thought I’d get another shot.”
What shot?
I tried to make my lips move and form words, wanted to ask him what he meant by that, but that was when my stupid itty-bitty towel decided to just unravel and drop to the floor. Time stood still, my breath whooshed right out of me, and I froze for the nth time that day. If there was ever a time for the earth to open up and swallow me, that was it. I could do nothing but stand there with my hand in his as we looked at each other for long agonizing seconds, both of us undecided on what to do next. I tried to beg him with my eyes to not look down, but I wasn’t sure he understood what I was saying.
He made his choice, and his eyes started to drop.
I think he saw my boobs. Actually, he definitely saw my boobs, and still very much high on adrenaline, I panicked.
Before his gaze could make it all the way down to complete the full trek, my hand tightened around his—Why is he still holding on to my hand again?—and I threw my body at him, plastering myself to his front, forcing him to take a step back to keep his balance. It was a poor excuse of a tackle, but it hid me from his open view, which was all I was after. The backs of his thighs hit the back of the leather couch and he wrapped an arm around my waist to keep us upright.
“Don’t!” I yelled right in his face. “What are you doing?” I could already feel the burning heat in my cheeks—and when I say heat, I don’t mean the cute Oh, look at me, I’m all naturally blushed kind, but more like the, I’m impersonating a tomato right now kind.
It was the third time I’d come face to face with this guy, and each and every time, I’d embarrassed myself beyond what could reasonably be called cute. Sure, in the last few years I had become less shy, going from painfully shy to just plain shy, so I didn’t really care all that much about what had happened that first night I met him, but…him seeing me naked was just the cherry on top of everything, and it was too much.
He cleared his throat and looked down at me. “Hi.”
Hi? That wasn’t the answer I was looking for.
“This wasn’t the welcome I was expecting, especially since I wasn’t expecting any welcome at all.”
I cleared my throat too, because he had done it and it was something to do. I tried to keep my eyes on his even though I was practically shaking with the need to run.
“Well, I wasn’t expecting to welcome anyone.” I managed to squeak out the words after some time. I swallowed and lowered my voice. “Please don’t look at me.”
That right arm tightened around my naked waist as he brought us to an upright position so I was no longer lying on him. Make no mistake, I was still plastered to his body, and I wasn’t thinking of letting him go anytime soon either. My poor heart thundering, our eyes met for a very brief second.
One side of his mouth quirked up. “To be completely honest with you, I’m not sure if I can do that.”
I wished I were the kind of girl who would offer him a light smirk, maybe a light slap on his chest, and then just turn around and walk away, maybe even give him a seductive wink over my shoulder before waltzing into my room as he watches my naked ass sway for him and act like I was completely fine being naked in front of strangers. Needless to say, I wasn’t that kind of girl—never had been. So, instead, I frowned up at him. “Are you kidding me?” I asked in a whisper when I couldn’t think of anything else to say. I needed at least a week to process what had happened in the last ten minutes.
He offered me a small smile. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it to sound like… I just meant I’m not sure if I can look away from your face—never mind, you wouldn’t understand. I won’t look down.” I couldn’t return his gaze, so I looked at his lips when they moved. “Promise.”
His palm, which was splayed open at the small of my back, slowly moved up a few inches, and I accidentally arched into him. Goose bumps were rising on my skin all over my body, and the drops of water falling from my wet hair onto my shoulders and back weren’t helping matters. He was warm and I was freezing.
“I’m gonna need that towel,” I said, looking away as I tried to ignore the fact that I was starting to feel my nipples getting hard. It wasn’t because I could feel his abs contract against me or because that arm around me was doing things to me, too, but because it was getting chilly. Could he feel it too?
“Can you lean down with me so I can get it? Or can you look away so—”
Dylan took his hand off of my back, and the sudden loss of the warmth of his skin on mine caused a small shiver to go through my body. He tilted his head up toward the ceiling and gripped the edge of the leather couch. Keeping my eyes on him, on those bulging arms, I slowly let go of his shirt, peeled myself off of him, and had to open and close my hands a few times to get rid of the tingles in my fingers. Still keeping my eyes on him to make sure he wasn’t looking, I quickly leaned down and grabbed the towel from the floor. Instead of wrapping it around me again, where it would cover practically nothing, I decided to hold it up horizontally to cover more area. At least that way, instead of dancing on the edge of flashing him my private parts, only my backside would be open, and I was counting on there being no more surprise guests.
Now that he was looking at the ceiling and not at me, I took my time to take in all of him. Good Lord, Dylan Reed is standing right in front of me. I noticed the jeans, the damp t-shirt that fit him a little too perfectly, the wide shoulders. His arms looked bigger than I’d remembered, and I got stuck looking at that part of his body a little longer. They’d been no matchsticks before, but still. He was all hard muscle, nothing extreme, just toned, hard perfection. Even his freaking forearms looked firm and perfect with a light dusting of hair.
“Your shirt is wet,” I blurted out, not knowing what else to say.
He looked at himself, brushed a hand down his front. “That’s okay.” Then he focused on me.
I took a step back. “Are you planning on telling me what you’re doing here?” I enquired as I started to back away and put some much-needed distance between us.
His eyes found mine, and I accidentally backed into a wall.
“Are you about to run away again?” Was that a grin he was trying to fight off? I couldn’t find one single thing that was amusing about the situation. He held my gaze as if he himself was trying to figure out the answer to my question. I dropped my eyes to his throat and kept backing away…right into the tripod I had set up earlier.
Great, Zoe. You couldn’t have acted more like an idiot if you tried.
I was either gonna go for the tripod and save it, or I was gonna hold on to my towel as if nothing could break us apart. I went with the latter and just let the tripod crash to the floor, wincing when the sound echoed in the room. Thank God my camera was no longer attached to it.
When my feet got tangled and I lost my balance for a second, he made a move toward me.
“No,” I yelled, admittedly a little louder than necessary. “No—ah, you don’t have to move. Just tell me what you’re doing here.”
“What are you doing here?” he asked instead of giving me an answer. His gaze dropped to my tripod on the floor then met my questioning gaze again.
Come again? His question stopped me in my backward shuffling.
“Could you, maybe, oh, I don’t know—come up with an answer instead of more questions? I live here. You’re the one who’s in the wron
g place, not me, buddy.”
Another easy smile. “I don’t think so.”
“You don’t think so. You don’t think what, exactly?”
“I don’t think I’m in the wrong apartment.”
“I actually, really think you are.”
He crossed his arms and just stood there…fully clothed, unlike me. “I don’t think so.” He stuffed his hand into his pocket and pulled out a key, shaking it in the air.
He had a key.
Goddammit, Zoe, use your brain! How else could he have gotten in?
“Look, uh…” I glanced back over my shoulder—I was only ten, twelve steps away from the corner that would take me to my room. If I could just throw on some clothes and stop with the uncontrollable shivering, I was pretty sure my mind would start working again. “Just give me a minute to get dressed and come back out here so we can…”
He nodded. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Instead of saying Yeah, buddy, you are, I gave him an exasperated look, barely stopped myself from huffing, and disappeared down the hallway.
Not two minutes had passed before I was back in the living room, fully clothed this time. It had taken me exactly thirty seconds to get dressed, and the other minute and a half had been spent trying to make myself look…better. My heart did this weird jump at the sight of him. Adrenaline…I was sure it was the adrenaline still coursing through my body that made my stomach clench and my hands go ice cold. He was standing in the exact same spot where I’d left him; the only difference was that instead of looking right into my eyes, he was looking down at his shoes and talking on his phone.
“Yes, I understand, Coach. Of course. Okay, I will. Yes. Again, thank you.”
Coach…of course. What was I even thinking?
I’d have loved to call him and talk to him myself, but if he was with his wife, I knew he wouldn’t pick up my call, so why bother?
I leaned down and picked up my wounded tripod. After making sure it wasn’t broken, I set it up closer to the wall where I couldn’t trip on it again then walked toward the couch, the one that would take me farther away from Dylan Reed. Before my clothed ass hit the cushions, he was off his phone, and we were alone again.
“So…from the sound of things, I guess neither one of us is in the wrong place, then,” I said, speaking to his back. Even though I was surprised, I could already guess what was going on.
He turned to face me, and his eyes did a sweep up and down. “It would seem so.”
I felt like I was about to shrink under his stare, so I grabbed the nearest pillow and hugged it to my stomach. The way he looked at me… I was tempted to look down and see what he found so interesting, but I already knew I was wearing my black leggings and an old t-shirt that had the words Pizzama Party all over it in small print—nothing interesting whatsoever.
“So…” What the hell was I supposed to say? “You’re here to pick something up for Mark?” That could be a possibility.
He lost the small smile on his lips.
“No.”
That was what I was afraid of. “You’re not just dropping by, by any chance?”
“I think I’m your new roommate,” he announced, getting to the point.
And just like that, I started feeling sick again. I had been holding on to the hope that whatever he was doing there was temporary, but roommate didn’t sound temporary.
“Coach didn’t mention I was coming?” he asked, pulling me out of my little freak-out.
I tried my best to act like everything was okay. This wasn’t my apartment, after all. It was Mark who was paying the rent, not me. “Nope. I’m guessing he didn’t mention I was here, either.”
“No.” He sighed and ran his hand through his hair, drawing my attention to it. It was still short, pretty much the same length it had been the last time I’d seen him, so at least that hadn’t changed. I kind of liked him with short hair. Walking around the couch, he chose to sit right across from me and dumped his phone on the expensive marble coffee table. I winced at the sound. “He said he wasn’t aware that you’d be here, but it wouldn’t be a problem since you’re barely in the apartment. Don’t worry, I’m not gonna be around much either, with football season starting and everything else going on. I won’t bother you.”
I sighed and rubbed my temple. “Sorry to crush your dreams, but I’m always here.”
He smiled, not a big, easy one that did things to my heart, just a promise of one. “You’re not crushing my dreams.”
Not knowing what to say—or more like not knowing how to say it—I fussed with the pillow in my lap instead of meeting his eyes. There was something unnerving about the way he kept meeting my gaze. “Did he tell you who I am?” He wouldn’t, of course he wouldn’t. I knew that, but still…
“He said you’re a family friend’s daughter.” There was a pause, so I looked up. “Are you not?”
I wanted to laugh. “Yeah, I am. Family friend. So, what’s your deal?”
A little hardness seeped into his eyes, and he leaned back. “My living situation changed in these last few days, and apparently I need a place to stay. Coach insisted that this would be okay. If you’re gonna be uncomfortable with me being around…if this is not okay, Zoe…”
With the speed I looked up I almost gave myself whiplash. His eyes were intent on me. He remembers my name? Sure, he would remember who I was—how could he forget that-weird-freshman-who-made-a-fool-of-herself—but he remembered my name? It had been a year since the last time I hadn’t quite managed to hide away from him, and a year was a long time to remember a stranger’s name.
“You remember my name?” I asked, genuinely surprised.
The smile came out again and his features visibly softened, now sincere, playful, and inviting. I forgot what I’d even asked. “Like I said back then, I had a feeling I’d get to see you again. I thought we’d get another shot. I didn’t think it’d take a year to get that shot…but here we are.”
There was that word again.
I gave up on the pillow, pulled my legs up and under me, and averted my eyes. Where was my phone when I needed it to hide behind? Instead, I sat up straighter and lightly grabbed the armrest with one hand. “What do you mean by another shot?”
“You know what I mean.”
“Actually, I’m pretty sure I don’t.”
“The kiss.” He tilted his head, and one of his eyebrows did this arching thing that made him look really attractive. “The last time we saw each other, we said maybe we’d make it happen next time. Ring any bells?”
That bell rang, all right. Turned out, I did know what he was talking about after all.
“See, the way I remember it, it was you who said that, and I’m pretty sure I was trying to get out of there as quickly as possible.”
“Why is that?” he asked without missing a beat.
I let go of my death grip on the armrest and rubbed my hands on my thighs. Did we have to talk about this again?
“Why is what?”
“Why do you always try to get away from me as quickly as possible?”
“Could it be because I don’t know you?”
“You told me you were going to kiss me the first time we met.”
I kept my eyes on the general area of his face. “First, we never actually met”—I did quick air quotes—“that first time. I didn’t give you my name, you didn’t give me yours. So, we didn’t actually meet, and I told you then that my friends…actually, not really friends, my roommate and her friends dared me to kiss you. I told you that, and just so you know, they already knew you were dating someone, apparently for quite some time, so they dared me to kiss you in front of everyone so I would make a fool out of myself and face your wrath. They thought it would be fun, thought I should loosen up a little. They didn’t like your girlfriend and wanted to see the look on her face.”
Fewer words, Zoe. Use fewer words, please.
He seemed to process what I had just blurted out and opened his mouth to answer, but
before any words could come out, I sprang up from my seat in the hopes of ending the conversation. “You know what, none of this matters since it happened two years ago. I’d forgotten about it until you brought it up.” I stopped talking. He was staring at me, seeing right through my lie. Closing my eyes, I rubbed the bridge of my nose. “Okay, I’m lying. I didn’t forget about it, but I’d like to forget about it since it wasn’t one of my finest moments, if that’s okay with you. Now that we’re going to be roommates, I think that’s for the best. If you’re staying here, I should show you your room.”
Without looking at his face, I walked by him and toward the hallway that led to the extra room he would be staying in, right across from my room—two steps away from my room, if you want me to be absolutely exact.
My new roommate.
When life throws you a wide receiver out of nowhere, what are you supposed to do with him? Try your best not to look at him for too long, maybe? That’d be a good rule of thumb, I thought.
I heard his footsteps, so I knew he was following me. I opened the door and waited for him to step inside, all the while making sure not to look him in the eye. Like I said, I still needed time—alone. I needed time to calm down and process everything.
There wasn’t much furniture in the room. Just like mine, it had a pretty comfortable twin bed, a small wardrobe, a nightstand, a window that overlooked the road…and that was pretty much it, just the bare necessities, which was still better than most student apartments.
He walked past me and dumped a duffel bag right next to the bed, the same bag I’d thought he was using to stash my equipment in. I watched him quickly take everything in and then nod. “No desk, huh?”
“A desk?”
“You know, to study on?”
“Do you guys really study? I mean jocks, athletes—I always wondered. I thought you had other students do that for you.”
Stupid, stupid me.
Facing me, he raised his brows, and this time there was no playful smile forming on his lips. “I hadn’t pegged you as someone who would stereotype people.”