Even though he was groaning only moments ago, I secretly think he enjoys the movie just as much as I do. I mean, come on, it’s freaking hilarious. With a contented sigh, I pick up my glass of wine before settling back onto the couch, nestling myself next to his big body.
For some reason it occurs to me that my grandmother is absolutely right.
Sam is perfect boyfriend material. I suppose it is kind of surprising that he hasn’t had more of a steady girlfriend throughout the last six years. He’s so handsome with all that thick blond hair and piercing ocean blue eyes. Not to mention- smart, athletic, and so completely sweet that you just want to kiss the hell right out of him.
Okay, let me clarify… I don’t want to kiss the hell right out of him. But I can certainly understand why other girls would. He’s a nice guy. And he’s a good friend to boot. Not only to me, but to everyone he allows into his inner circle. I’m not talking about the groupies or the people who just want to hang around because of his football status. If Sam considers you a friend, there’s nothing he wouldn’t do for you. He’s loyal to a fault.
It’s kind of weird, now that I’m thinking about it. I mean, he’s gone out with girls here and there but nothing ever seems to stick. It’s like he’s not very into them. Maybe he’s just focused on academics and football.
But still…
Sam could have his pick of woman on campus. And yet, rarely do I see him with anyone. More often than not, he ignores all the girls vying for his attention. Sam’s a hot commodity around here. Sometimes I wonder if he even realizes just how much ass he could be getting on a daily basis.
In that regard, he’s different than Roan, Liam, and Dylan. Before Roan hooked up with Ivy, he was something of a manwhore. Dylan was the same way before getting together with his longtime girlfriend, Lexie. But Sam isn’t like that. He’s never been into easy hook ups or casual one night stands. I’m not saying he hasn’t had them, but it doesn’t seem to be a way of life like it is for some of his teammates.
“Question,” I suddenly pipe up before finishing off my second and final glass of wine for the evening. I’m not drunk by any means, but I do feel nice and relaxed. Content to be snuggled up against Sam on the couch in his apartment on a Friday night watching one of my absolute favorite movies of all times.
“Answer.” His arm is casually slung around my shoulder. His body heat seeps into me. It’s probably good that I’m only wearing a thin cotton t-shirt otherwise I’d be sweating bullets over here. Instead, his warmth feels good. I just want to burrow against him.
He chuckles as I swat my hand at his chest.
“What? I thought we were doing word association.”
Not bothering to comment upon that, I forge ahead with my question. I can’t be the only one who sees how awesome he is. “Why don’t you have a girlfriend?”
His deep blue eyes widen just a bit before settling on me as the movie continues playing in the background.
“What?”
For some reason, it’s like I’ve totally thrown him off by broaching the subject. Which is kind of weird because we talk about everything. No topic has ever been off limits.
Feeling bolder because of the alcohol careening through my system, I shrug my shoulders. Sam is such a great guy. Any girl would be lucky to have him. So why is he still single? “Why hasn’t some girl locked you down already?”
His brows lower as he continues staring silently at me like I’m a complicated algebraic equation that needs to be methodically solved step by painful step.
When he doesn’t utter a word in response, something propels me to push onward.
As Sam continues to steadily hold my gaze, a strange sort of tension slowly slides its way through me until my entire body is prickling with awareness. It almost feels as if the air between us has become oddly heavier than it was just a few moments ago. Or maybe it’s all in my imagination. Maybe two glasses of wine was just a little too much.
All I know is that the breath I just inhaled is now trapped within my lungs and there’s nowhere for it to go. His eyes seem deep and fathomless. I feel ensnared within their dark bottomless depths.
Tilting my head, our gazes stay locked. “You’re just so perfect,” I finally murmur, “sometimes it’s hard to believe you’re still single.” I shake my head, suddenly remembering the girl who approached me. At the moment, I can’t remember her name. “I forgot to mention that I gave your number to some girl the other day.”
His brows lower. “You did what?” My eyes widen as he snaps out those three little words.
Is he mad that I did that?
Blinking, I repeat a little more carefully, “Last week after class, some girl came up to me, wanting to know if we were together-”
Cutting me off, the question falls softly from his lips. “What did you tell her?” His gaze continues piercing mine, pinning me in place. It’s the oddest, most exhilarating feeling.
Gulping, I force out the words. I’m starting to regret bringing up this entire line of questioning, but it’s much too late to backpedal now. I seem to be knee deep in it. “Umm, I told her that we were friends.”
Because that’s exactly what we are.
So why is he looking at me like that?
Inhaling a quick breath, I trip over myself trying to hastily explain. “She was totally your type.”
One brow slowly arches its way across his forehead. “I have a type?”
Is he being serious right now? I snort before rolling my eyes. “Well, duh.” Every girl I’ve ever seen him with seems to be a carbon copy of the one before her. But there’s nothing unusual about that, lots of people have a type they’re physically attracted to.
“And what exactly would that be?”
I blink a few times before swallowing. It takes another moment for me to finally push the words out. “Long blonde hair, big brown eyes, soft curvy body.” I cup my hands in front of my chest. “Big boobs,” I add as if he isn’t aware of what he likes.
A strange look passes over his face before he admits softly, “Yep, you’ve totally nailed it. That’s exactly the kind of girl I go for.”
Finally feeling like we’re back on track again, I release a shaky little laugh, “Well, I’ve been your best friend since middle school. I know the kind of girl you’re attracted to.”
It’s slowly that he strokes the blond stubble covering his chin. “Yup, I guess you do.”
As I blink my eyes, it suddenly feels as if his face is closer than it was just a few moments ago. Which is… strange. My heart pounds a bit harder at his nearness. Sam now fills my entire line of vision. I’m not aware of anything but him. The whole sexy package.
Shit… I didn’t really mean to think that.
Dirty blond hair, deep blue eyes, stubble covering both chin and cheek. His nose has just a slight crook where he broke it junior year of high school and his lips are full and generous. Sexy. That’s the one word that keeps popping up rather dangerously inside my head. The breath catches at the back of my throat as I continue holding his stare. It must be all the alcohol rushing through my system because his eyes feel almost hypnotic in their bright unwavering intensity.
An odd prickling tension continues to grow between us until it feels explosive.
Thankfully something happens on screen, drawing my attention away from Sam and back towards the TV. After a moment, he too becomes ensnared by what’s happening between the characters.
The odd pressure which had been crackling so thick and heavy in the air around us gradually dissipates as we both laugh. Even though we hadn’t been watching the movie, we know it so well that just hearing a line can send us into peals of laughter.
Neither one of us pick up the thread of our previous conversation as we settle back onto the couch, watching the rest of the movie in silence. After about ten minutes, I scoot towards Sam until I feel his arm pull me in a little closer and I’m able to rest my head on his chest. I can’t help the sigh of contentment that slips from my lips as I
settle against him. Even though things got strange there for a moment or two, it’s all back to normal now.
And normal is exactly where it needs to stay.
Chapter Seven
Sam
“So what’d you and Violet end up doing last night?”
Roan gives me a little shove before waggling his dark eyebrows like the immature asshole that he is. If I was hoping the whole Violet-spending-the weekend-at-our-place would go unmentioned, yeah… not going to happen.
“And I’m guessing it wasn’t each other either since you were both sacked out in separate bedrooms by the time I made it home.”
Pulling out his pads, Dylan smirks before sitting his ass down on the wooden bench to start getting ready. Game time is set for noon. We’re playing Akron today. And it’s another big one.
What the hell am I saying?
At this point in the season, they’re all freaking big. We’re gunning for another championship and bowl game this year. With it being my senior year, you bet your damn ass I want to go all the way. Some of these guys will be playing for Barnett next year or entering the NFL draft come January. They’re football careers will continue, but this is it for me. After this season, I’m done. So I need to give it my all. Every damn thing I’ve got.
You’d think these two would have their earbuds in, cranking some tunes, getting into the zone, gearing up to kick a little ass today.
Nah.
Why would they want to do that when they can spend a little time busting my balls?
Dylan eyes me. “Still no movement on that front, huh?”
Lowering my brows, I give them a silent glare. I’m hoping they’ll consider that answer enough. Clearly the Violet situation isn’t something I want to discuss.
Especially with their damn asses.
Unfortunately he continues, “Hey, I’ve got an idea- why don’t you just stop being such a freaking pussy and put it out there already?”
Great.
More unsolicited advice.
That’s exactly what I need right now.
Hauling my shit out of my locker, I spend a few minutes taping up my wrist because it’s been bothering me lately. But not enough to stop playing. Hell, the damn thing could be falling off my arm and I’d still be out there.
“Dude, you need to face facts, you’ve been friend zoned.” Dylan shakes his head all sad-like. “And once that happens, there’s no coming back from it. It’s all but impossible to move back into the- I’d-like-to-fuck-you zone.” He flashes me his version of a shit eating grin. “Not that I would know anything about what you’re going through.”
Rarely do I listen to the bullshit that spews from Dylan’s mouth, but this time, I think he just might be onto something. That being said, there is no freaking way I’m going to mention that Violet is now trying to set me up with other chicks. These two would have a freaking field day with that. Christ… I almost fell off the couch last night when she told me that she’d given my number to some random girl.
I mean… really?
She’s seriously trolling around on my behalf? Has it gotten so bad, that me getting laid is now a group effort?
Unbelievable.
The situation between us is so much worse than I ever suspected. Because in my experience, when you’re into someone, even a little bit, you don’t go around trying to fix them up.
Grinding my back molars together, I don’t say one damn word. At this point, I just need to evict Violet from my head and focus on kicking Akron’s ass today. Because that, at least, I can control.
To some extent.
“Your name might as well be Samantha for all that girl notices. Does she even know you have a penis, albeit a teeny tiny one, dangling between your legs?”
My glare becomes even more ferocious.
Tiny dick, my ass.
But you know what?
I have no idea if she knows or not.
Once in a while it’ll feel like there’s a flash of heat between us but it’s certainly not enough for me to act on. I don’t want to totally hang myself out there unless I’m reasonably sure she feels the same way. Otherwise opening myself up like that could turn out to be nothing more than a suicide mission.
And I’m no kamikaze pilot.
Not where Violet’s concerned.
Unable to stop myself, I hear the words tumbling from my lips before I can shove them back inside. “And what exactly would you do if you were in my situation?”
Roan folds his arms over his chest as a little smirk settles across his face. “I wouldn’t know anything about that, dude, I’ve never been friend zoned before. Most chicks can’t wait to jump my bones.”
Yeah… the bastard is right about that one.
Arching a brow, I remind him, “That’s funny, because I don’t seem to recall Ivy wanting to jump right into bed with you.”
The smirk turns into more of a slow grin that tilts his lips upward. “Nope. And that’s all I’m going to say about that.”
I shake my head because I never thought I’d see the day when Roan King settled his ass down with one chick and yet, that’s exactly what’s happened. Even though they’re separated right now, it’s completely obvious that Roan is in love with Ivy.
The sad thing is- that’s exactly what I want. A relationship. I’m tired of being out there on my own. Tired of the hook ups. And the groupies that are always hanging around. Sometimes you can’t tell who likes you for you and who’s in it for the status you bring to the table. Some of the guys get off on it. They don’t give a shit about why someone wants to screw them. They’re just happy to soak up all the attention and adoration.
But that’s not me.
It’s never been me.
And the fact that I want one specific girl doesn’t help matters either. I’ve tried forgetting about her, putting her out of my mind, moving on. It’s not like I haven’t dated other women. I have. But no matter who I’m with, I just can’t resist comparing them to her. And once that happens, it’s all downhill from there.
Like a freaking bullet train.
Then things are ending and I’m back to being alone again, pining for someone who is completely oblivious to my need.
As much as I hate to admit it, Violet was spot on in regards to what she said last night. I hadn’t realized that I’m constantly hooking up with girls who look exactly like her.
That’s pretty messed up.
And it’s not helping matters either. Because none of these girls will ever be Violet Winterfield. It’s like I’m constantly setting myself up for failure right from the get go. These girls are nothing more than a paper thin version of the one I really want.
Seriously, how freaking pathetic is that?
Yeah, that was more of a rhetorical question…
I unfortunately know the answer.
“Why don’t you just nut up and tell her how you feel. Let the cards fall where they will.” Before I can even open my mouth, Dylan tacks on, “Don’t get me wrong, I like Violet. She’s a cool chick. But exactly how much longer are you going to wait around for her to get with the program? Enough is enough, man. It’s time to shit or get off the pot.”
As ineloquent as his words are…
I can’t exactly disagree with them, now can I? Maybe I just need to tell her how I feel. Whatever happens, at least I’ll have an answer. Maybe then I can finally move on instead of being stuck here in no-man’s land.
With all of his sage advice churning in my head, my eyes finally settle on Dylan. Sucking in a deep breath, I finally admit, “I think you’re right.”
He looks surprised by my words. “I am?”
As painful as it is, I slowly nod my head. “Yup, in a rather shocking turn of events, what you’ve just said makes perfect sense.”
Tilting his head to the side, his eyes narrow. “It’s not really all that shocking.”
Roan shakes his head. “No, dude, it’s completely shocking.” He starts rooting around in his locker. “In fact, I need to
write this down so I don’t forget.”
Dylan slams his locker shut before glaring at the pair of us. “You guys are assholes.”
Chapter Eight
Around nine o’clock that night we all head out to O’Brien’s. It’s a little dive bar a few blocks from campus where a lot of college students hang out. Well, the ones who are twenty-one or, at the very least, have a decent fake hang there. The rest stick to campus and the inevitable victory parties that will be taking place up and down Greek row. It seems like all of Barnett has turned out to help celebrate. Even if you’re not a football fan, it’s as good as any excuse to get together with friends and have a few drinks.
I’m happy for the guys, happy their last year playing together is turning out to be a season for the record books, one they’ll remember for the rest of their lives. Hell, I think everyone at Barnett will remember it.
Sam is a first string left tackle. It’s his job is to protect the QB’s blindside on passing plays and counter-act the pass rush of defensive ends. The only reason I know that is because I’ve spent more than my fair share of time with my ass in the bleachers, hollering at the top of my lungs, cheering him on. And today, Sam totally did his job. Akron never got close to touching Liam Garrison.
Last year, Sam gave some serious consideration to whether or not he wanted to enter the NFL draft. Unfortunately, he ended up hurting his wrist junior year. Even though he still plays through the pain, I know that has a lot to do with him not looking to continue with the sport he loves. So, he’s focused on law school and pursuing a career in politics.
Once this season is over, Sam’s football career will be over with it.
I’m sure graduating this spring will be bittersweet for him. He’s been playing ball with these guys for the last four years and some of them will be entering the NFL draft come January. Like Roan King. It’s all but a certainty that he’ll get snapped up by a team.
I’m not sure what Dylan is doing yet. Like Sam, he’s suffered from a few injuries over the years as well. I know he wants to play professionally, but there hasn’t been as much interest surrounding him as there has for Roan and Liam. Although Liam is only a junior, I’ve heard that he’s going to stick around and play next year even though he could technically enter the upcoming draft.
Friend Zoned (Barnett Bulldogs #2) Page 7
