First and Goal (Moving the Chains #1) (24 page)

“Most of my opponents are other women.”

He laughs, but his eyes continue to roam freely. “Hey, I don’t judge.”

I shake my head, laughing as much as I can in such a state, and turn back to my locker. “You’re such a pig, Superjock.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I see him frown. He holds the coffee cup out to me. “Here.”

“What’s this for?” I turn back towards him with my eyebrow raised, unsure of his motives.

“A really lame peace offering.” He gives me a weak smile. His damn expressive eyes reveal no ulterior agenda behind the gesture.

I take the proffered gift in silence, choosing to ignore for the moment his comment about it being an olive branch. I need the hit of caffeine too badly.

“I think…I think my dad might have hit your cat yesterday.”

My eyes shoot up to meet his. I expect to find him looking anywhere but at me. I’m sadly mistaken. He courageously makes direct eye contact, remorse coloring his sparkling irises blue this morning.

“What?”

“When I got home yesterday, I overheard him telling my mom that he thought he might’ve hit something on his way home, but he wasn’t sure. He pulled into the garage to check, found blood and fur on one of the front tires. I went out and had a look.” He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “What color was your cat?”

“He was an orange tabby,” I whisper.

“I’m so sorry, Eva.” The look that he’s giving me makes no sense because it seems like despair.

It was my cat that his dad hit, not his.

“Why did you tell me this?” I cannot think of a single good reason. He’s clearly not doing it to purposely hurt me.

He shrugs. It’s like a tic with him, I swear. “I just felt like you deserved to know what happened. Remember how I told you he’s an alcoholic? Well, he came home from work early after having too much to drink at a business lunch, I think. I could smell the beer on him from across the room.”

He swallows thickly. “He never even saw the cat. Wasn’t sure what he’d hit, or if he’d hit anything at all. But I’m pretty sure it was Gatoula. The fur was orange. I’m really, really sorry.”

Rob remembered my dead cat’s name.

I try to keep calm because I don’t want to cry in the halls and ruin my makeup, so I focus on Rob’s gentle eyes instead. “It’s not your fault. It’s not like you were the one who hit him.”

I take a sip of the drink, impressed that during this week especially, I’m even able to keep a rational, level head. My brows furrow in confusion. Maybe everything is getting to me because this can’t be right. I take another careful sip of the hot liquid. It’s my favorite - chai tea latte. Which, weirdly enough, does make me feel slightly better.

“I know, but I still feel responsible somehow since it was my drunk father who hit him.” He looks down at his shoes. “I know the coffee doesn’t make up for anything. I could get you another kitten if you want, but that seems like it would be too soon, ya know? Disrespectful, somehow.”

My resolve to stay aloof crumbles a little more with all his admissions. Not only did he own up to his father killing the love of my life, but he’s made himself extremely vulnerable talking about his dad’s drinking problem with me. It must be a rather well-kept secret. I never knew Rob’s dad was an alcoholic.

The reality of everything Rob’s told me over the past two weeks slams into me. Whether I trust him or not, he clearly trusts me.

“I do know. Thank you for the offer. Why coffee, though?”

“You said on the nights you work, you’re up ‘til around midnight finishing homework and really tired all the time. Figured you could start mainlining the caffeine a little early.”

I genuinely can’t believe he remembered all that.

“And you complained yesterday that I was going to make you fat with all the cupcakes and chocolate.”

All I can do is gape at him in astonishment. This isn’t the obnoxious jock from the past year. It’s not even the timid, but smart boy from before that. This is a much, much more dangerous version of Rob Falls…sweet, thoughtful, vulnerable, and honest.

“Anyway, I just wanted to apologize. I’ll see ya in calc.” He turns and walks quickly down the hallway.

“Hey, Falls!” I yell after him. One little thing is bugging me. “How’d you know what my favorite latte is?”

“Because I pay attention, Eva,” he calls back, not turning around.

I
rush up to the study room off the library as quickly as I can after hitting the showers. Evie only has a half hour to study this afternoon between band practice and work, but I’m still impressed that she made that much time for me. She's serious about getting that top spot back. Competing with her all year excites me more than it probably should.

I run my hand through my hair as I try not to full-out sprint down the hallway to get to her. Things went much better than expected this morning at her locker. She didn’t kick me in the nuts when I admitted to her that my dad ran over her cat. She didn’t even get mad. She didn’t exactly kiss me for my honesty, but I wasn’t really expecting that…was I? My extremely vivid dreams last night and the case of chocolate bars waiting in my room say I absolutely was.

As much as I’ve spent the last three years wanting Evie, it kind of scares the shit out of me to realize how low I’ll go to get her. I’ll take anything she might give me and work as hard as I have to in order to get it. She’s like crack for me, I swear. That first little hit I got a few weeks ago was the beginning of the end. Every shared moment since has only made me want her more.

I walk through the library and smile and nod to our classmates that are scattered around, working. I’m freaking pumped about the latest rumors going around about my love life, thanks to the legend of The Bio Effect. The word around school is that Evie and I are an item. My buddies have been on my case about it since Friday night after she left the bonfire, pushing me to turn the rumors into reality. Clearly, they don’t understand that’s the singular goal I’ve been working toward since the first day of school.

Walking into the study room, I stop dead in my tracks. Sonofabitch.

Evie still wears her tight skirt and flowy blouse with the deep neck. Black lace peeks out around her cleavage. She’s slouched down in her seat, her head resting on the back of the chair, and one arm propped on the desk. She might be sleeping.

As I slowly and quietly walk around to my own chair, I find her bare feet propped on it. Black pantyhose never looked so tempting. Are they the kind Victoria’s Secret models wear? The ones with the lacy tops and ribbons holding them to a garter belt? God, this woman slays me.

We don’t have much time today, but I hate to wake her and ruin the sight. I get everything I need out of my bag and set it up on the desk before picking up her feet, sitting down, and replacing them in my lap. She blinks her eyes at me, raising her head from its resting position.

“Hey,” she rasps, sleep still lacing her voice.

Sweet mother of God, I
need
to hear her sound that way again. Preferably in the morning. After being with me all night.

“Good morning, Sleeping Beauty. Rough debate?”

She yawns. “Not really.”

“Did you not make it to band practice today?”

She looks at me with a confused and exhausted expression. “No, I was there. Why?”

“You wore
this
to practice?” I gesture at her clothes.

“Yeah. Normally I would change, but I already have my diner uniform stuffed in my bag, so I couldn’t fit anything else.” She rolls her neck around, which jostles her shirt, and yeah…black lace bra.

Very nice. I wonder if she has matching black lace panties. Dammit. I’m a horny asshole.

I laugh in an effort to snap myself out of it. “You could have borrowed some of my clothes. I always keep extras in my locker for practices and stuff.”

She arches a perfect eyebrow at me. “Why would I do that?”

“Well, you almost broke an ankle that one day, and you weren’t even wearing heels, and…I just, uh, wouldn’t wear a skirt up on that podium if I were you.”

“Oh,” she waves at me dismissively. “I took the heels off. My feet were killing me by the time we got back.”

“That would explain why they were up on the chair, then.” I press my thumbs into the delicate arches of her small, slender feet. They can take up my lap forever. I am so down with that.

She moans louder than yesterday, closes her eyes, and slinks a little lower in her chair, causing her skirt to ride up. Another inch or two and I could definitely find out if she’s wearing a matching set. Shit, I have to control myself. Think of Hinton…yeah, that’ll do it.

“Oh my God, Superjock. Your hands are good for more than just handling a football.” Her groans nearly undo my control.

I try to stop myself from thinking of all the other ways I’d love to make her sigh with my hands.

“Feel better?” I think about Coach, naked in the showers. Remember Alex pissing me off all day about the rumors and what a chickenshit I am.

“Why shouldn’t I wear this to practice?” She asks, her husky voice piercing through my distractions.

I am barely holding it together.

“You’re joking, right?” I choke out.

Her eyes are still closed, her body relaxed. She has no clue what she’s doing to me. “No. What’s wrong with wearing this? My uniform is a skirt.”

“Yeah, and it’s a hot little number. But I’m pretty sure you wear those cheerleader underwear beneath it so no one can see anything, and you’ve got those sky-high boots to cover most of your legs, so there’s that.” No big deal. I just admitted to her that I pretty much drooled over her Friday night. Who the fuck am I, anymore?

“I’m not really worried about it. With all the cheerleaders and the dance team, no one notices me in a drum major’s uniform.”

“Well, I notice. Besides, there weren’t any other sexily clad women at practice today, I’ll bet.” Man, do I feel sorry for all the guys in band today. That had to have been hella awkward.

She waves her hand around again. “Doesn’t matter. That’s band. Those guys are my friends. They don’t look at me like that. None of them have ever solicited me for sex. And there are several girls on debate team in band who also didn’t change. If the guys were getting distracted, it was over them not me.”

I raise my eyebrow at her though her eyes are still closed, and she can’t see my expression of disbelief. She really doesn’t get it. This exquisite, complex creature stretched out beside me, who drives me a little more insane every day, has no idea how intoxicating she really is. Eddie completely destroyed her self-esteem.

“You really don’t know, do you?”

She cracks an eye open at me. “Know what?”

I could tell her she’s the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen. I could tell her I’m not the only one who thinks that about her, but I won’t. That’ll only result in a sack. Evie intimidates me more than a blitz.

“Nevermind, let’s just get through whatever rough spots you have on the homework. You’ve only got about fifteen minutes.”

“I already got started while I was waiting for you. I think I’m actually good, but can you check what I have so far and see if I’m getting this, please?” She slides her binder my way.