Bad Coach (An Alpha Male Bad Boy Romance) (Forbidden Romance)

by Claire Adams

  “You seem like you’re in a hurry,” he observed.

  “I am,” I said, only softening a little. “Class is in less than ten minutes. I don’t really have time to talk to anyone.” I started walking a little faster. Devon kept pace with me for a few moments more, and when I glanced at him furtively I saw that he was trying to come up with something to say; it was strange—bizarre, even—to see him looking so confused, so uncertain.

  “We can catch up later, then. I’d hate to get in between you and your routine,” Devon said, giving me another one of those flirty smiles. I shrugged, glancing away from him. “Catch you later, Jenny.” I looked at him again to tell him that I hated—hated—to be called Jenny, and saw that in spite of the cheerful tone of voice, his face still wore that perplexed, disappointed look. He turned onto a different walkway, leaving me alone.

  In spite of myself, I had to laugh. It actually felt good to brush him off; it felt good to see the disappointment on his face. He had thought that I was some kind of fool who would just dance to his tune the minute he paid me the least little bit of attention; it was almost like revenge to disappoint him. It made me feel stronger, and it made me feel like somehow I’d gotten part of what I’d given him back. He had made me feel unwanted—and now he knew exactly how that felt. Two can play that game, I thought, glancing around me with a little self-satisfied smile on my lips.

  My sense of triumph carried me through my economics class, and I was still smiling about it when I left the building. It was too early to go to lunch; the rest of my friends didn’t get out of class until one, and I was less than pleased by the idea of sitting by myself in the dining hall. I decided to head over to the student union lounge and see what was going on there; I’d kill some time and meet up with the others, and maybe I’d tell Kelly about my little victory later on. Now that I had decided not to become a hermit, I wanted to find non-party things to do with my time to get me out of the dorms.

  There was an event hosted by the Arab Student Union: Middle Eastern food and music, and I thought to myself that nothing could be more perfect as a way to kill some time. The dining hall didn’t normally have very good lunch, so a snack would be nice. I wandered around the tables, sampling different bites of food, looking at pamphlets, and talking to people.

  I had forgotten completely about Devon’s comment that we would catch up later until he appeared at my elbow, right as I was looking at the bulletin board. “Hey, Jenny,” he said, grinning at me in that infuriating, flirtatious way. I gave him a quick, polite smile.

  “Hi, Devon.” I moved to sit down at one of the tables, taking a few steps away from him; but he didn’t take the hint. Instead, he followed me, sitting down and holding my gaze for a moment.

  “You can’t have anywhere you need to be if you’re hanging out here,” he pointed out. I shrugged.

  “I need to meet with my friends for lunch in a little while.” Devon smiled at me, and something inside of me wanted to wipe the self-satisfied little smirk off of his face.

  “But you can talk now, right?” He asked, giving me a little, hopeful look.

  “I’d really rather just wander around,” I said, giving him an almost apologetic smile.

  “Then why’d you sit down?” Devon asked, gesturing to the table. So I could get away from you, I wanted to say.

  “My book bag’s kind of heavy,” I said instead. I couldn’t bring myself to be quite as mean as I wanted to, not while Devon was looking at me with his big, dark eyes.

  “I offered to help you with it on your way to class,” Devon pointed out, tilting his head slightly.

  “You did,” I agreed, keeping my voice carefully level. Suddenly the easy, charming grin left Devon’s face.

  “Hey,” he said quietly. “I’m starting to think you’re avoiding me, Jenny.”

  “Please don’t call me that, I hate being called Jenny.”

  “Jenn. Are you?” I looked away.

  “If you’re just after a pretty girl to talk to, there are lots of them here,” I said.

  “I want to talk to you, though,” Devon told me, smiling again. “Besides, I can’t see any girl here who’s prettier than you are.” I shrugged, swallowing past the tightness I felt in my throat.

  “I need to go; my friends are probably waiting for me.” I started to stand.

  “Jenny—Jenn. Come on. Can’t you at least tell me what I did?” I looked at him in shock—he didn’t know? But I realized that he hadn’t actually seen me stumble across him kissing some other girl the day after he’d taken my virginity. He had no clue that I knew exactly what kind of person he was.

  “I’d really rather—I’d rather you just left me alone,” I said, picking up my backpack and turning away from him. I saw the look of disappointment on his face again and didn’t let myself look back as I walked away. It wasn’t worth encouraging him to continue to see any more of it. In spite of the thrill of another triumph, I had to admit to myself that I didn’t feel completely great about how sad he had looked. I told myself that he’d deserved it.

  Chapter Five

  I went through the rest of the day wishing that there was someone I could talk to about what had happened; I felt like if I didn’t tell someone about Devon and how I’d brushed him off, I’d explode. But no one other than Kelly knew about the fact that I’d even slept with Devon, much less that I’d caught him kissing some other girl the very next night. I fidgeted my way through the rest of my classes, and by the late afternoon, I was up in my dorm, pretending to watch TV and actually waiting for Kelly to get back from her Existential Philosophy class so that I could tell her all about it.

  While I was waiting for her, my mind alternated between thoughts of triumph and satisfaction and feelings of guilt. Devon had done me wrong; even if he didn’t think I knew about it, and even if he hadn’t actually said he wanted to date me or be exclusive with me, what kind of guy went around kissing girls the day after being so sweet and kind, taking someone’s virginity? It had felt good to see him realizing that I didn’t care about him—it had felt like the best possible revenge. But did he actually do you wrong? You slept with someone on a whim; it wasn’t like he’d said anything like ‘I love you’ or anything like that. I couldn’t believe that it had meant nothing to him—but I hadn’t done the due diligence of actually figuring out how he felt about me before dressing him up in my mind as my next boyfriend.

  I wasn’t sure how I felt when Kelly finally came in, throwing her book bag into the room. “How’d you get through the day?” she asked, coming into the common area and throwing herself down onto the couch next to me.

  “Oh man,” I said, shaking my head. “You would not believe what happened to me.”

  “A cute millionaire asked you to fly away to Paris with him?” I laughed.

  “No. Devon Sealy transferred into my class.” Kelly’s eyes widened, and she stared at me.

  “No shit! So much for avoiding him, huh?” I nodded.

  “But—you will be very, very proud of me.”

  “You managed to ignore him?” Kelly asked hopefully.

  “Better than that.” I grinned. I told her about Devon trying to talk to me after class, and then again in the student union lounge.

  “Oh my god, that’s awesome!” Kelly said, pumping her fists in the air in a triumphant little pose. “Go Jenn!”

  “It felt good,” I admitted. “To see him there, knowing that I didn’t give a damn, that I wasn’t just going to fall into line and swoon because he wanted to talk to me.” Kelly laughed.

  “Oh god, I wish I could’ve seen it!” she shook her head, grinning.

  “I kind of feel bad about it a little bit, though, now that I think about it,” I said, frowning a little. “I mean it wasn’t like he’d really done anything wrong.” Kelly’s eyes widened, and she stared at me in disbelief.

  “He didn’t do anything wrong? He took your virginity and then went right to the next girl!”

  “But really, it wasn’t like he�
�d asked me out or anything,” I pointed out. “It wasn’t like he made any kind of claim on me.”

  “Still—do you think he’d admit that he’d been kissing some girl? No. Even if he had asked you out, he’d probably still have just picked up some other chick and not even seen the problem with it.” I shrugged.

  “We don’t know what he would’ve done because it didn’t go down that way.” Kelly rolled her eyes.

  “Please. You know the stories. He gets girls to fight over him—and if he could, he’d get you to do it too.” I shrugged again.

  “Whatever. It felt good to get a little back of my own on him. I can move on with my life.” Kelly looked at me for another long moment before nodding.

  “Yeah. There are plenty of cute guys on campus who aren’t assholes like Devon.” We talked about the rest of our days for a while; Kelly told me about one of the students in her Philosophy class falling asleep during a discussion about Kierkegaard—and the professor’s revenge: dropping a heavy book just a few feet away from the student’s head.

  Somehow the conversation turned back onto Devon. “You know,” Kelly said, giving me a sly grin. “Now that Devon’s sniffing—since I mean, he’s after you—you could totally get back at him.” I frowned.

  “What do you mean?” She shrugged.

  “Make him totally humiliate himself. Tell him you won’t talk to him unless he throws the next game.” I stared at her in shock.

  “That—that could ruin him,” I said. “That’s—that’s beyond revenge. That’s…” I shook my head.

  “It doesn’t have to be that specifically,” Kelly said. “You could like, make him declare his love for you in the student union, or something like that.” I shrugged.

  “Honestly, I’d rather just forget I ever met him and go our separate ways.” I sighed. “It’s not worth it.” Kelly laughed.

  “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Besides, you’d have to be some kind of a crazy bitch to ruin some guy’s life, right?” I snickered.

  “It sounds like something one of those deranged basketball bunnies would do.” Kelly laughed again.

  “Yeah. There’s no point in doing it unless you’re having fun, anyway. Probably better to just take the high road.” I nodded, and we went back to talking about our respective days, the subject of Devon completely forgotten.

  Later that night, I had come back to the dorms after dinner and gotten a shower; I decided that I was just going to hole up in my side of the dorm room for the night and get some reading done. It was boring, I knew—and Kelly had tried to convince me to go to the coffee shop event that one of the clubs was putting on, an open mic night with a mobile coffee vendor serving lattes and cappuccinos. I had decided that I would rather get some reading done in my English survey class than listen to a bunch of people who thought they could play guitar better than they really could.

  I curled up in my bed and opened up my book, letting my skin finish drying in the cool air conditioning, and started to read. My phone buzzed, announcing a text message, and for a moment I considered ignoring it. It was probably Kelly texting to ask if I was sure I wanted to stay in, or Alicia sending me a video of one of the performers making a fool out of himself or herself. But curiosity got the better of me. Even if it was one of my friends—the only possibility I could think of—it might be something.

  Instead of a familiar contact name, though, there was a strange number—someone I didn’t know. I frowned and unlocked my screen, opening the message. Hey, Jenn. It’s Devon. I frowned again. Devon? How had he gotten my number—and what the hell was he doing texting me? Won’t you tell me why you’re avoiding me? I don’t know what I did, but I hope you’ll at least give me a chance to find out. Talk to me, please? I moved to respond to the text—and another one came in. I thought we had a great time Friday night. I definitely had a great time; I can’t forget how good it was. I’d love to take you out. I stared at my phone in disbelief.

  Did he want to take me out? Kelly’s suggestion—that I could use Devon’s interest in me to humiliate him, give him a taste of his own medicine—flitted through my mind. But no; I had already decided to take the high road. I had already decided that it wasn’t worth being a petty bitch. I was just going to move on with my life. I bit my bottom lip. It has nothing to do with the other night, I wrote back. It’s nothing like that. Anyway, I think we should just…move on. I don’t want to go out with you. I sent the message and put my phone aside, thinking that that would settle it. But a moment later my phone buzzed again. I groaned; I didn’t want to look at it, but I couldn’t make myself stop as I reached over and unlocked my screen.

  Why not? And if I didn’t do anything Friday night, can’t you at least tell me what I did do? Maybe I could fix it. I gritted my teeth. He didn’t know? Was he playing stupid—or was it just that he wasn’t aware that I’d seen him? He had to be playing dumb, didn’t he? I pressed my lips together in a frown.

  If you can’t figure out why, I’m not about to tell you, I wrote back. I don’t know how you got my number, but you might as well go ahead and lose it. This is pointless. I hit send and put my phone on silent—so that even if he answered me, I wouldn’t hear it, wouldn’t get pulled out of my focus. But in spite of telling myself that he wasn’t going to be able to distract me anymore, I kept thinking about the fact that Devon had gone beyond just trying to catch up with me somewhere; he was actually putting an effort in. Where had he gotten my number? Who had given it to him? I wasn’t sure whether I was more impressed or appalled at his persistence.

  Chapter Six

  The next day, I checked my phone and saw that Devon had not messaged me back. I was relieved, but at the same time I was almost a little disappointed. Part of me was glad that he seemed to have gotten the message, and I would be able to just move on with my life, but another part of me was not quite ready for Devon to give up. I didn’t mention anything about it to Kelly; in spite of the fact that she had brushed her notion of getting revenge on Devon aside as a joke, I thought that if I told her about it, she would possibly convince me to go through with it. I wanted to get on with my life; I didn’t want to punish Devon, even if he had hurt me.

  I told myself that I’d just take Devon’s giving up as a sign, and stop thinking about him altogether. But in spite of my resolution, I found myself thinking about him again and again as I went to my classes. My Tuesday class schedule was less intensive than Mondays, but even still I was appalled at how steadily I thought about him. I just wanted to get my head out of the whole situation. I wanted to be able to go back to the way that things had been before I had even met Devon Sealy.

  You need to get off campus and do something, I thought as I wandered my way back to the dorms from my afternoon class. I didn’t even want to hang out with my friends; I just wanted some time to think of something—anything—other than Devon. I decided that I would go to a movie; I’d pick something that was playing that was really absorbing, and for a few hours at least I’d have my mind so occupied that everything else would fall away from me.

  I dropped off my book bag, grabbed my purse and keys, and went back down to my car. I drove to the movie theater and looked at the listings for a while, trying to decide what I wanted to see. There were a few promising possibilities; I decided against a romance—that was the last thing I wanted to be reminded of—and I thought that a drama might be too much of a downer. I settled on a new superhero movie, bought my ticket and a frozen Coke, and settled in to be distracted for a few hours.

  I managed not to think about Devon through most of the movie; apart from a few scenes where one of the characters reminded me of him, I was able to focus on what was going on in the movie, instead of what was going on in my life. But every time the character that looked like Devon came onto the screen, I thought about him. Am I making a mistake? Should I at least hear him out? No—he’s just a player, like everyone says. It would be a waste of time.

  I walked out of the theater at the end of the movie, smiling to myse
lf. If nothing else I’d gotten a little break from my worries and from thinking about Devon. The movie had been fun enough; I would go back to campus, grab some dinner with my friends, and get down to studying for the rest of the night.

  As I headed out to my car, however, my pleased thoughts were interrupted. “Hey, Jenn!” I nearly stumbled on the curb at the familiar sound of Devon’s voice. What the hell? I turned and saw Devon walking towards me, smiling the way he had every time I had seen him.

  “Are you stalking me?” I asked him, stopping where I was to stare at him. Devon laughed, smiling ruefully.

  “I wanted to talk to you,” he said. I crossed my arms over my chest. Something about seeing the character in the movie that reminded me of Devon made me feel strangely vulnerable.

  “I told you,” I said, looking away from him. “You—you might as well lose my number. I’m not interested.” Devon moved closer to me.

  “Really, I just want to talk,” he said, reaching out and touching my arm. “I don’t know what I did, Jenn. But I want to know.”

  “Why don’t you just move on? I mean—there are plenty of other girls.”

  “But I like you,” Devon said, smiling at me with a little flicker of charm in his eyes. “I had a really good time with you the other night. I thought you had a good time too. I want to hang out with you again. I just want to know…” Devon shrugged. “What did I do wrong? If it was sleeping in…” he grinned.

  “That—that wasn’t it,” I said, shaking my head. I looked up and held his gaze for a long moment. “Look,” I told him, taking a deep breath and exhaling with a sigh. “If you really want to talk about what happened—and only that—then… I can give you that.”

  “Very fair of you,” Devon said, grinning a little bit.

  “But only that. I don’t… I’m not ready to just hang out. But it’s only fair to tell you.” Devon leaned in and kissed me on the cheek; in spite of the fact that I was less than happy to see him, I didn’t move away.