In a way, my hoodie was a silent shield around her, and today, everyone who didn’t already know we were still together would. Hopefully, it would keep some of the vultures away.
I took my time making my way to the building my next class was in. I stopped at a vending machine and grabbed a soda, and then a couple guys from the team walked by and we started talking strategy for the big game.
They were all joking about the party at my place when they walked away. As I uncapped my drink, I noticed Michael was hanging back a bit.
“Got something on your mind?” I called out, gesturing at him with my chin.
He was a good player, he worked hard on the field, and I respected him. I got the feeling, though, that I wasn’t going to like what he wanted to say. I could tell by the hesitation in his face and body language. He probably disagreed with some of the plays I wanted to try tonight and didn’t want to piss me off in fear I would freeze him out on the field.
But I wasn’t like that. I left personal shit in the locker room. There was no room for drama in the game.
He walked back over in front of me as he adjusted the strap on his shoulder. “I’m not sure I should say anything.”
“Just say it, man. It’s cool.”
“I saw your girl this morning.” He started, and everything in me went cold.
This wasn’t about football. This was personal.
“You looking at Rimmel?” I asked, my voice calm and low.
His eyes widened a little, but he shook his head. “No, man. I probably wouldn’t have known it was her, but she was wearing your hoodie.”
I nodded for him to continue.
“She was in the hall, outside her class,” he said, glancing at me.
He needed to get to the fucking point already. I was losing patience.
“That guy Zach was with her. It looked pretty intense.”
I jerked upright. “What?” I growled.
What the fuck was Rimmel doing with Zach? Why was he talking to her?
“He was grabbing her arm. Jerking her around pretty good.”
Red tinged my vision and adrenaline started pumping in my veins. “What did you just say?”
Michael nodded grimly. “It’s why I noticed them. He grabbed her and she cried out. She told him to let go, but he just jerked her more. She almost fell.”
A noise rumbled out of my chest and anger so swift and hot that it hurt filled me. “Tell me you pulled him off her,” I intoned.
“I was going to. I called out to them and started forward, but that’s when he let her go and walked away.”
I was going to kill him.
Dead.
“I asked her if she was okay. I don’t think she knew I’m on the team with you.”
“Probably not,” I muttered, still trying to control the anger spiraling out of control inside me.
“She said she was.” He continued, but I heard the doubt in his voice.
“But?” The word came out harsher than I intended, but he didn’t seem to notice.
“But her wrist was pretty red. Looked like it was going to bruise.”
Thought ceased in my head. Rationality evaporated. “Thanks for telling me,” I said and rushed away in the opposite direction of my next class.
I checked the time on my cell and knew Rimmel was probably in the food court. She had a break now and mentioned to me this morning about having lunch with Ivy. She never mentioned a word about Zach.
I took the stairs two at a time up to the food court, rushing past people who called out my name without even so much as blinking.
People were everywhere, walking around with trays, sitting around laughing and standing in lines. The scent of coffee and pizza filled the air, and music played over the speakers, fighting with the sounds of everyone talking over each other.
I blocked it all out.
My eyes scanned the room, bouncing around the crowds of people. Searching for Rimmel in a roomful of people might seem like finding a needle in a haystack to some.
But not to me.
I was drawn to her in ways I didn’t even understand.
I found her in mere seconds. She was sitting toward the back of the room, across from Ivy at a four-person table. Missy was on the other side of Ivy, and the fourth chair beside Rimmel was empty.
She was smiling at something Ivy was saying, and it pierced my heart.
Without thinking, I strode through the crowd, not slowing my pace when I drew closer. She noticed me. Her face broke into a smile and her eyes lit up.
But then she must have sensed my mood. The dangerous way I was moving. Her eyes widened and the smile slipped from her lips.
I didn’t say a word when I stopped at the table. I just picked up her arm and shoved back the sleeve of her hoodie. Her wrist was fine. Creamy smooth skin without a single blemish.
“Romeo,” she said, shocked. “What are you doing?”
My movements were jerky and stiff when I dropped that arm and reached for the other. I yanked it up and her body tightened. I glanced up at her face and saw the twinge of pain in her eyes, and instead of feeling sorry for hurting her, I got even more pissed off.
Even though I wanted to rip the sleeve away, I forced myself to push it back gently, knowing—knowing—I wasn’t going to like what I was about to see.
My back teeth snapped together, making a sharp clicking sound when I saw.
She was bruised. A ring of purple, blotchy bruises circled her slender wrist, and around them the skin was red and irritated. I cradled her palm in mine and turned her hand over to note the same kind of bruising and light swelling underneath as well.
“Oh my God,” Ivy said from beside me. “What happened to your wrist?”
Rimmel tried to slip her hand out of mine, but I wouldn’t let her. My eyes pierced hers, drilling into them, trying to find an answer.
“Were you going to tell me about this?” I asked, deadly calm.
“I’m fine,” she argued, tugging her hand free of mine. I wanted to snatch it back to continue to stare at the marks some other man put on her skin.
But I didn’t. I wouldn’t hurt her that way.
I made a frustrated sound deep in my throat and shoved my hands through my hair. Then I stacked my hands behind my head and blew out a breath, unable to stand still.
“Damn it, Rimmel,” I said, harsh. I felt the stares from several tables nearby.
“Maybe we should talk about this later,” she said, her voice almost a whisper.
I laughed. “You think I’m going to wait until later to find out the details of how that fuckwad put bruises on your body?”
Missy gasped and Ivy made a sound of distress. I didn’t look at them, though. I kept my eyes on my girlfriend as I pulled in fast, shallow breaths.
I felt out of control in that moment. I’d never felt like this before. I was used to being calm and collected, but I couldn’t find that part of myself right then. The vision of those bruises, of Michael standing in front of me warily telling me how he witnessed Rimmel being pushed around in a hallway, assaulted me.
The sight of Zach smirking at the bookstore days ago, the sound of his voice when he told me he hadn’t forgotten.
One of his “friends” picked that moment to walk by. Judging by the look on his face, I knew he was probably taking notes so he could report back to his buddy later. I moved lightning fast, jerking out my hand and grabbing his shirt right at his neck. He was shorter and smaller than me, and I felt the toes of his shoes dragging across the floor as I brought him right up into my face.
“Where is he?” I asked.
“Who?” he asked, his eyes bulging out of their sockets.
“You know who,” I growled.
“Romeo!” Rimmel’s voice cut through some of the blinding anger inside me. Her hands slid around my waist and she tried to nudge herself between me and the guy I was interrogating. “Put him down.”
I just stood there. I didn’t listen.
“Come on,
let’s go talk.” She tugged on my shirt, and I released him.
He scrambled away as people stared after him. I turned toward Rimmel. She grabbed her bag off the seat beside her and looked down at her tray.
“I’ll take care of it,” Ivy said and slid a glance at me.
She nodded and slipped her hand into mine. “C’mon.”
We walked down the stairs away from the prying eyes of our audience and around the corner toward the bookstore. I tugged her past the entrance and we went farther down the hallway where no one but the staff ever went.
When I felt like we were alone enough, I stopped walking. Rimmel dropped her bag on the floor and looked at me. “Don’t you have class?”
“I’m gonna be late,” I said, my eyes not leaving her face.
She shook her head. “Being late on the first day—”
I cut off her lecture. I swooped forward and caught her around the waist and pushed her back into the wall. My mouth crashed down over hers, and she moaned, stretching up to meet my kiss.
It was desperate and a little bit angry. I kissed her more roughly than I should, but I couldn’t stop. She kissed me back just as aggressively. It was as if whatever emotion was rolling around inside me were calling out the very same thing in her.
I pressed forward, pushing my body along hers, and wrapped my arms around her waist.
Some of the intensity of my anger dissipated and drained away. After a very long, steamy kiss, I broke away, breathing hard.
Rimmel’s head collapsed against the wall and she stared up at me with unfocused hazel eyes. The flecks of color in the center were green today. “Romeo,” she gasped.
I pulled back enough so I could lift her arm and grasp her fingers. She made a sound of protest when I pushed back the material of the shirt once more and stared down at the dark blotches marring her skin.
“How were you going to explain this to me?” I rumbled.
“I wasn’t going to lie, if that’s what you’re implying,” she snapped.
“Ah, baby.” I groaned and lifted her wrist to press my lips to the marks. “I’m being a jerk.”
“You said it…” She agreed, letting the rest of her sentence fall away.
I smiled against her skin and then kissed her inner wrist once more.
“Do you know what it did to me when Michael told me what he saw Zach doing to you?”
“Michael?” she asked, a question in her eyes. Then it cleared away and she whispered, “The guy from the hallway.”
My eyes narrowed. I didn’t like the thought of any guy coming to her defense if it wasn’t me. I held in that little piece of info. I didn’t think she’d appreciate it. Besides, I was glad he was there. If he hadn’t spoken up, who knew what Zach would have done?
“He’s on the team,” I explained.
She sighed wearily. “Is there anyone on campus you don’t know?”
I smiled but pinned her with a serious stare. “You should have told me.”
Behind her glasses, her eyes rolled. She looked adorable standing there squished against the wall, in my shirt, her glasses, and a braid in her hair.
“It’s not your job to protect me, Romeo.”
“You’re wrong,” I said, my voice leaving no room for argument. “It is and I will.”
“You’re my boyfriend. Not my bodyguard.” Her words were annoyed, and I felt something behind them. But before I could question her, she kept going. “He was just being a jerk. I tried to walk away, and he stopped me. If I hadn’t fought against him, I probably wouldn’t have a bruise at all.”
I felt my eyes narrow as I spoke dangerously low. “Are you saying it’s your fault Zach treated you this way?
Letting her take any responsibility for this was something I would not allow.
She sighed. “I’m saying you’re being a drama queen.”
I laughed and raised my eyebrow. “Do I look like a woman to you?”
A fine pink blush spread across her cheekbones. “No.”
I took her face in my hands and tilted it up so I could stare into her eyes. “Listen to me. My reacting to someone putting their hands on you is not me being dramatic; it’s me loving you.”
“Oh, Romeo,” she sighed my name and my cock hardened.
I pulled her into my chest and wrapped my arms around her. “Being an asshole is just part of my charm, baby,” I said matter-of-fact, unable to keep the smile out of my voice. “This is just me loving you.”
“You love real good,” she mumbled against my chest, pushing a little closer.
I palmed the back of her head, holding her tight. It scared me how much I loved her sometimes. Just like the anger I’d felt just moments ago scared me. It was raw and intense. It almost bordered on hate.
And all of it… every single flame of that animosity was directed at one man.
I had been well prepared to leave it all in the past.
But those bruises on Rimmel’s body were not in the past.
And I wasn’t going to let them go.
Chapter Nine
Rimmel
I wasn’t a football kind of girl.
Learning different kinds of plays, positions, and what the heck the refs were signaling all the time wasn’t my strong suit. I’d much rather read a book. Or help an animal.
But dating Romeo opened my eyes to a new world. I didn’t so much as know anything about the game or how it was played, but I did enjoy going and watching Romeo and the Wolves on the field.
There was always so much energy at the football games. The cheering fans, the peppy cheerleaders, and the loud music all created a jazzed-up feel in the air. It was fun to go sit in the stands with Ivy and Missy, to sip hot apple cider, and it was pretty fun watching Romeo run around in those tight pants.
Even though my experience with football was limited, I thought I knew what to expect when the championship game rolled around.
But I had no idea.
During the days leading up to the game, the campus was more alive than usual. Signs and banners covered every available space. The school colors (navy and golden yellow) were plastered everywhere. Some people spray-colored their hair in wacky designs.
Girls walked all over campus with Wolves T-shirts and the football players’ numbers drawn on their faces with face paint.
More than half those girls wore number twenty-four.
I tried not to let it bother me. I mean, it was basically a school tradition to show support for the team. But why did most of the girls have to show support for my player?
But even with the girls displaying their affection for my boyfriend, the energy that crackled through the air was infectious.
The championship was a home game, and that meant it was happening here, on our turf (check me out, talking the lingo like a pro), and I was glad because it meant I could be at the game without having to travel to get there.
I hadn’t seen much of Romeo the first week and a half of classes because he was so busy with training, practice, and meetings with the team. In a way, it was good because it gave me a chance to get a good head start on all my classwork. On the first day, the professors usually gave us a course syllabus, and I liked to go through and see if there was anything I could work on in advance. I was a planner that way. I liked to really learn the material from each class, because it was quite possible something I learned now could save an animal’s life later. I’d already been able to outline a paper I had due in a couple weeks and get a head start on the research.
It was also good because it kept Romeo distracted. Distracted from Zach. I’d never forget the fiery look in his eyes when he stormed into the food court that first day. I’d never seen him so mad.
I wanted to be mad at his reaction to my not texting or calling him right away, but the truth was I couldn’t be mad at him for being who he was. I couldn’t be mad at him for loving me and being enraged that someone who caused trouble for him (and us) in the past was causing issues again.
I didn’t tell him
what Zach said to me. He’d been so enraged at the bruises on my wrist he didn’t ask what Zach wanted, and I didn’t bother bringing it up. It would only make him angrier.
Besides, Zach was probably lying and just trying to cause trouble anyway.
Romeo needed to stay focused on the game. This could be a stepping-stone to the NFL.
“I think the entire campus is hungover.” I laughed as Romeo drove slowly through the parking lot toward my dorm.
The day before the game, all the classes on campus were cancelled. There was a huge pep rally for the team and about a hundred different pre-game parties going on practically all night.
We didn’t go to any parties. None of the players did. The game was too big to risk going out the night before and everyone being hungover. I did stay the night at Romeo’s place, though. I spent the night in his arms.
Everywhere I looked, people were stumbling around in oversized coats and hoodies. Some of them with sunglasses over their faces and most of them with giant-sized coffee cups clutched in their hands.
Romeo laughed. “Must have been some epic parties.”
When he pulled the Hellcat up to the curb next to my dorm, I turned in my seat to face him. “You nervous?”
He leaned the back of his head against his seat and looked at me. “Nah.” His lopsided grin was infectious. “I got my good luck charm,” he said and pulled the dog tag I gave him out from under his shirt.
“You don’t need a good luck charm because you’re a great player.”
He reached across the car and took my hand. “I know I haven’t been around as much,” he said, “but after today, my schedule won’t be so busy.”
“I understand,” I said softly. And I did. “Football is your life. It’s your dream.”
He made a sound. “You’re just as important to me.”
I smiled. “I have to admit I won’t be upset when this game is over and all the girls around here stop wearing your number all over their bodies.”
His white teeth flashed. “Is someone jealous?”
I snorted.
His smile grew wider.
“Maybe a little,” I admitted.
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