King of Campus

by Jennifer Sucevic

  Her aggravated tone has the edges of my lips twitching upwards. “I’m not making excuses for him. I’m just trying to see it from his perspective, Lex. That’s all. I’m just trying to wrap my head around two people who still love each other but aren’t together anymore.”

  She closes her eyes as if suddenly exhausted by everything that has happened. Or maybe it’s just our conversation that’s wearing her out. “I just want some time to sort through everything. That’s all.”

  “Okay. It makes sense you might feel that way after the scare you’ve had. I get it.” I squeeze her leg. “I really do.” Shifting the conversation, I ask instead, “So, there’s some leftover pizza in the fridge from last night, how about I heat you up a few slices?”

  The way she perks up is almost comical. “From Peppino’s? Sausage, mushroom and pepperoni?”

  “You know it,” I laugh. It’s always been our go-to takeout. It got us through finals and a few break ups freshman year. It’s the best comfort food in the world.

  “I’ll just have it cold.” Flopping back onto her pillows, she adds sweetly, “Two pieces, please.”

  Cold pizza sounds amazingly good right now. “You got it.” Standing up, I head to our small kitchen, getting two huge slices for each of us. I bring the pizza into her bedroom before going back for drinks and napkins. Once I have everything we need for an impromptu picnic dinner on her bed, we both dig in.

  “You went out last night, huh?” She asks this right before taking a monster bite from her slice. And just like me last night, her eyes nearly roll back in her head. “So, so good. It’s even better cold the next day.”

  I agree, taking a large mouthful of my own. “Yep.” I’m really hoping she won’t push the dinner issue any further.

  But already I can see the wheels in her head starting to turn as her eyes narrow speculatively. I almost groan. Even in the midst of her own personal crises, she still wants to talk about my non-existent love life.

  “With who?” A devilish smile tilts her lips upwards as she says, “Oh wait, let’s look online and see if my hunch is right.”

  Crap. I kind of forgot about all the picture snapping BS… I’m almost afraid of what she’s going to find. Then again, maybe she won’t find anything. I didn’t notice anyone taking photos. Although, to be fair, I barely noticed there were people in the restaurant with us…

  That’s unfortunately the effect Roan has on me.

  She swipes her phone from the little rattan nightstand table next to her bed before tapping her screen. “Hmmm, looks like there are a hell of a lot more pictures of you and Roan posted here.” She shoves the phone in my face. “And surprise-surprise, here you two are at Peppino’s!”

  She gives me a faux-shocked look. Complete with a hand to her mouth and big wide eyes. “And here you two are walking to class this morning,” one brow hikes up her forehead before practically hitting the ceiling, “and OMG, you’re holding hands!” This time I think the stunned look is actually real. My face heats as she continues staring at the screen as if she can’t quite believe what she’s seeing.

  Unable to stand another moment, I nip the phone from her hand, my pizza all but forgotten as I scroll through the assortment of new pictures. This is un-freaking-believable! I mean, seriously! Glancing over at Lexie, I shake my head. “Don’t people have anything better to do with their time than stalk him?”

  She snorts. “Roan King sightings with a girl out in public are a rarity, my dear Ivy.”

  I’m still having a hard time understanding this level of curiosity. It’s just plain creepy to want to know so much about a person you don’t even know personally. “But still… he’s just a guy.”

  She rolls her eyes as if I’m totally clueless. And maybe I am. All of this pseudo-fame he’s got going on kind of eludes me. “He’s a hot football playing god who will hopefully win the school a championship this season before turning pro. So yeah, he’s a major freaking deal around here. He has stalkers and gawkers aplenty.”

  Between mouthfuls, she fires off both questions and comments. “So what’s going on between you two? I didn’t even know you guys were a thing.” She shakes her head in disbelief. “I can’t believe I’m even saying that! Roan King serious about a girl! Color me completely shocked!” She throws her napkin down. “And you didn’t even tell me about any of this! You’ve been totally holding out.”

  I can’t help but groan. “You’re getting ahead of yourself, Lex. This isn’t a serious thing.” Well, not yet, it isn’t... “We’re just…” I shrug my shoulders because I’m not really sure what to tell her.

  Do I want to get serious with Roan?

  Yeah… maybe I do.

  But… I’m still not sure it’s a good idea. I really like when we’re alone together but out in public… that’s a totally different story. “Look, we’re just going out on a date.”

  Looking a little bit like her usual self, she crows with delight. “Roan doesn’t take girls out on dates!”

  I laugh at the bug eyed look she’s casting my way. “It’s one date. That’s it.”

  The edges of her lips curl up and it’s like the sun shining brightly after a thunderstorm. So maybe, for just a moment, I’ll let her bask in her delusions regarding Roan and me.

  And maybe I’ll bask in them as well.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Roan King is playing the best football of his life right now. Does it have something to do with the girl he’s been linked to? Inquiring minds want to know… KingOfCampus.com

  “Are you sure you want me tagging along tonight?”

  Roan slants a look my way before carefully asking, “That depends- does it make you uncomfortable that they’re gay?”

  I drill him with a hard look of my own before rolling my eyes. “Absolutely not. I’m a dancer. Do you know how many gay guys I’ve worked with?” The answer to that question is- a whole hell of a lot.

  A cheeky smile blooms across his face as he admits, “I like that you’re surrounded by gay men.”

  “They’re not all gay,” I smirk. That would be a stereotype. And an untrue one at that.

  Just as we’re walking up the sidewalk to his dad’s house, he yanks me against that chiseled chest of his right before his muscular arms snake their way around me, pulling me close. He growls, “Are you deliberately trying to make me jealous?”

  Even though I want to groan with the feel of all that hardness pressed up against me, I shake my head. “Hardly. And I’m not the one with all the stalkers, Mr. King of Campus.”

  He winces as I tease him with the nickname. What I’ve learned is that Roan hates being referred to as the King of Campus. It’s like nails on a chalk board to him. And he may be used to the attention he always seems to attract, but that doesn’t mean he enjoys it. When fans try to focus on him, he always reminds them that Barnett’s success on the field is a team effort. He may be looking to turn pro but there are several other players who are intending to do the same thing.

  Of course, there’s no denying that Roan seems to be the face of the Bulldogs. He’s the rising star that both state and national sports reporters are always focused on. When ESPN talks Barnett football, Roan King’s name is inevitably discussed. His stats and combine results are hashed and rehashed every Saturday. And the closer we get to the draft, the more ramped up the attention becomes.

  Hand in hand- and yeah, I love the feel of him holding my hand within his larger callused one, he gives a quick rap on the door before throwing it open.

  Daniel and Linc live in a small bungalow in the heart of downtown where they’re able to walk to the restaurants, coffee houses, and trendy little shops that line University Avenue, which is the major throughway through the city Barnett calls home. Roan told me it’s an old house that his dad bought, gutted, and remodeled after the divorce. Daniel is an architect and Linc owns his own construction company. They ended up meeting through some business dealings they had together.

  Even from the outside, I can
tell that a lot of love, attention, and detail went into restoring this house to its former glory. It’s absolutely beautiful. In a way, it kind of reminds me of my dad’s house.

  “Hello?”

  Both Daniel and Linc appear from the back of the house. Right away Daniel pulls Roan into a brief hug before Linc gives him a pat on the shoulder. It’s obvious there is a lot of affection between all three of them. And then, rather surprisingly, I’m being swallowed up in hugs from both men. After everyone greets one another, we move onto a large deck overlooking a small, secluded backyard. Tons of trees border the property giving it a lush, private feel.

  “This is beautiful.” I can’t help but admire just how tranquil it feels out here. A small slice of greenery in the midst of the city.

  “Thanks, it’s one of the reasons we snapped up the property when it became available. Great location. Secluded backyard. The house itself needed a lot of work but the bones and foundation were solid. Since the house had fallen into disrepair, that meant we could gut it, start from scratch, and make it exactly what we wanted.”

  “Wow. I’m really impressed.” My eyes slide around the meticulously landscaped yard. There are vegetable and herb gardens along with several different flower beds dotting the leafy green area. It looks more like a well-cared for park than someone’s backyard.

  Looking pleased by the comment, Daniel merely shrugs. “It took a few years but the blood, sweat, and tears have been worth it.”

  Linc comes out with a serving tray that holds two bottles of vitamin water for Roan and I and glasses of wine for himself and Daniel. Handing us our bottles, he says, “Can I assume you’ve been laying off the alcohol?”

  Roan shrugs. “For the most part. Every once in a while I’ll kick back with a beer, but that’s about it.” From what I’ve seen, that’s probably true. I never see him drink very much.

  The blond haired man levels him with a stern look. “The next couple of months are important. Come January, you’ll be entering the draft. You need to be in peak physical condition for the combine in February. All the top scouts will be there.”

  Tensing up just a bit, Roan nods before taking a drink of his water. “I know what needs to be done. It’s not a big deal if I have a beer every once in a while. I’m working with the team trainer on a daily basis. I’m stronger now than I’ve ever been. You don’t have to worry, Linc, I’ve got everything under control. I’m putting the time in and seeing the results.”

  “I know.” His expression softens before he continues, “We’re just so close to making this happen. And the team is doing so damn well this season. Three and zero, so far. You guys keep playing like this and you could have a perfect season. Big game this weekend. Have you been watching film on UMass?”

  “Hours of it. And I think we found a few weaknesses we’ll be able to exploit.”

  Apparently liking that notion, Linc’s smile widens. “We’re still working on snagging some tickets for the game on Saturday.”

  “I spoke with Kevin yesterday about which teams seem interested so far. Looks like Green Bay, the Bangles, and the Jets have all put calls in to him.”

  For a while, the two of them discuss possible teams and which ones look like they would be a good fit for Roan. As I sit back and watch their interaction, it becomes increasingly clear that Linc is extremely involved in Roan’s NFL prospects. More so than Daniel. Which is interesting. Although it’s nice that the man in Daniel’s life cares so much about Roan’s future, his involvement seems a little over the top.

  After a while, the conversation circles back to the Barnett Bulldogs and their upcoming game schedule. After about fifteen more minutes of nothing but football talk, Daniel finally shuts down the discussion with an announcement that dinner is ready.

  Thank god.

  Because my eyes were just starting to glaze over.

  Although I’ve never been interested in football, because Roan plays, I feel like I should try to learn a little bit more about the sport. But with Linc firing off in depth questions, talking stats, and using a whole lot of sports terminology, I’m pretty much clueless as to what they’ve been discussing.

  Dinner consists of a garden salad full of fresh vegetables and then a delicious pesto salmon grilled on a cedar plank set on top of a bed of nutty tasting wild rice. The salmon is so flakey and fresh that it practically melts in my mouth. I may love to eat but I have zero time to cook, so I’m appreciative of a home cooked meal. And this one is excellent.

  Linc shoots Roan a look before asking, “You eating a healthy mix of complex carbs and lean proteins?”

  As soon as the question leaves Linc’s lips, Daniel holds up a hand effectively silencing him. “No more talk of football, proteins, carbohydrates, or training schedules, okay?” He flashes a quick smile in Linc’s direction before turning his attention towards me. “I’m sure all this football talk is boring the hell out of Ivy.”

  With a mouthful of salmon, I shake my head. Quickly swallowing, I say, “No, of course not.” Okay… pretty much.

  His eyes twinkle with undisguised humor as he asks, “Are you a football fan?”

  I’m guessing he already knows the answer to that question from the vacant look in my eyes when they had been discussing the draft and what Roan was doing to prepare for it. “Um, no… not really.” Rather hastily I tack on, “I mean, I haven’t been in the past. I’m trying to learn more about it now that Roan and I have become friends.”

  Very gently, Roan squeezes my hand under the table. “She’ll be coming to the next home game to help cheer us on.” He gives me a little wink.

  I nod, because I’m looking forward to watching Roan out on the field. He’s obviously very good at his position or NFL teams wouldn’t be scouting him. I think watching a Barnett game will be more fun now that I actually know someone playing. Over the last few weeks, I’ve gotten to know quite a number of the football players. They’re all pretty nice guys. Not at all the Neanderthals I assumed they would be.

  Alright, alright… maybe a few of them are. But most aren’t.

  Cutting into my thoughts, Daniel says, “Roan tells us that you dance.”

  Again, feeling much like a bobble head, I nod. It’s always a bit awkward when you’re meeting someone’s parents for the first time. “Yes, I’ve been dancing since I was three. I’m double majoring in dance and finance.”

  He looks impressed. “Wow, that’s quite a combination.”

  “Well,” I shrug, “I just want to have something to fall back on in case a career in dance doesn’t work out. Being a professional dancer is highly competitive. And I’ve always been interested in business, so it seemed like a good fit for me.”

  “That’s a smart way to approach it. Shoot for your dreams but have a backup plan in case it doesn’t work out the way you hoped it would. And you were involved in a study abroad program last year?”

  “Yes,” again with the bobble head action, “I studied at the Conservatoire de Paris for fifteen months.”

  “We were in Paris two years ago on vacation- incredible architecture.”

  “Yes,” I smile in earnest finally feeling a bit more at ease with the flow and direction of our conversation, “it’s absolutely beautiful. There’s so much to do and see. Cathedrals and gardens. Statues and arches. Everything is just so amazing. And you can walk almost everywhere.”

  Warming to the topic, his eyes sparkle. “You didn’t even mention the Eiffel tower or Opera House.”

  I laugh. “Or the Louvre!” Talking about Paris and the time I spent there is usually enough to bring a little pit of sadness to my gut. Oddly enough, it doesn’t happen this time.

  He grins. “How about the catacombs?”

  Quickly I shake my head before giving a little shudder. “I was roped into a tour of the catacombs when I first arrived in Paris. That’s pretty much when I realized I’m a bit claustrophobic.”

  “But it’s certainly interesting.”

  “And spooky,” I can’t help but
add. Long dark tunnels under ground with tons of old bones stacked in them does not equate to a good time in my book. Call me crazy…

  Linc takes this opportunity to steer the conversation in a different direction. “So will you be graduating this year, Ivy?”

  My eyes hold his inquisitive brown ones. “No, I’m a junior. I have at least another year and a half after this semester and I’ll probably need to take a few summer courses because I’m working towards a double major.”

  He nods and I can tell he’s digesting everything I’ve just said. “So what are your plans as far as dance is concerned?”

  “Well,” I blow out a small breath, “I’m actually hoping to audition for a few ballet companies this spring. If I can get in somewhere, then obviously I would leave school, otherwise I’ll keep working towards my degree. One of my professors has a few contacts in Chicago and Cincinnati, so he’s been keeping an ear open for me.”

  From the corner of my eye, I notice both of Roan’s dark brows shoot up. My plans, as far as dance is concerned, isn’t something we’ve really discussed before. I think he just assumed I would finish out my degree here at Barnett first. And more than likely, that’s exactly what will happen.

  “I didn’t know you were planning on auditioning before you graduated.”

  I shrug. “Well, there isn’t anything definitive set up, so there didn’t seem much point in mentioning it.”

  Looking thoughtful, he nods but doesn’t say anything further about it.

  I’m suddenly wondering if I should have told Roan about the possibility that I could leave Barnett before graduating. But honestly, it doesn’t even sound like Roan will be around after this year. He could be anywhere in the United States. He has absolutely no idea where he’ll end up if he gets drafted.

  And it’s not like we’re going out. We’ve been spending time together and I’m hoping we’ll continue doing that but still… this is all so new. It’s not like we’ve sat down and exchanged life histories or talked extensively about our plans for the next year or so.