Quarterback Sneak (Red Zone Rivals #3)(89)

“You can’t stay here,” he said, assessing the damage with his thick brows bent together. His dark, messy hair was still half-stuck to his forehead, his lips a bit chapped from the sun as he looked around. How he made sweat and sun-damage so appealing was beyond me and I filed it as just another reason to hate him.

And I already had plenty.

“Wow, where would I be without you to point out the obvious?”

He shook his head. “Do you have a place to go? Need a ride or anything?”

I made an annoyed noise in my throat and pushed inside, not caring at this point that he was still standing in my doorway. “My car isn’t an issue, idiot. And I’m fine. You can leave now. Thank you for the neighborly concern.”

I shot each word out like pellets from a gun chamber, surveying the house and trying to decide where to start, what I needed to get out and what could possibly remain behind. The fact that I didn’t have anywhere to move any of it was an issue I would deal with once Leo got out of my hair.

“You can stay with us.”

I laughed — and not an amused laugh, but one that was laced with bitter anger and resentment.

“I’m serious,” Leo said, pushing inside and carefully side-stepping where the ceiling had collapsed. “You don’t even have to pay rent. Holden’s room is free now since he and Julep moved to Charlotte.”

I spun on my heals. “You really expect me to move in with you and two other football players?”

He shrugged, a cocky smirk playing on his lips. “What I expect is that you don’t have as many options as you’re acting like you do.”

I clamped my mouth shut, jaw aching with how hard I ground my teeth. He was right. I didn’t have a single option, really, other than stay a few nights at a hotel and try to find a cheap interim place on Craig’s List. And even those options meant I’d have limited funds for things like food and gas after the fact.

I didn’t think Margie would charge me rent while she fixed the place, but I also didn’t think she’d let me completely out of the lease I’d just resigned.

Even if she did, I didn’t have anywhere to go. And with fall just around the corner, I’d be fighting against the rush of students trying to find places, too. I’d dealt with that nightmare time and time again already. The thought of having to face it again now made me want to fall into a heap on the floor and cry.

“Hear me out,” he said, approaching me slowly when I didn’t immediately respond. “You get to stay for free. It’s right across the street, so you don’t have to move all your stuff into a storage or across town. You don’t even have to change your mailing address. You have me and the other guys to help you move. You have your own room. We’re clean…” He paused. “Ish.”

I rolled my eyes.

“Did I mention it’s free?”

I chewed my lip, hating how many good points he had. It wasn’t like I didn’t know the guys, either. I’d spent enough time partying or hanging out at the Pit now, thanks to Julep, that I felt like an adopted little sister.

It would be nice to not have to worry about paying rent for a while, to possibly get some sort of savings started…

I shook my head for even considering it, mentally slapping myself. This was Leo Hernandez, for God’s sake. This was the prick who’d made my entire high school existence absolutely miserable and then completely forgotten about it because that was how little it mattered to him.

How little I mattered to him.

“I’ll be fine,” I said, turning on my heels.

His hand shot out, catching me by the crook of my elbow. Heat shot through me just as much as revulsion as I pulled away from the touch.

“Come on. Let us help you out. You’re Julep’s friend, and therefore, a friend of ours.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Since when are you nice?”

He feigned offense, pressing a hand to his chest. “Me? I’m always nice. I’m the nicest guy you’ll ever meet.”

I blinked at him, ignoring the urge to refute that statement in a law-based manner complete with evidence and a jury of women I knew would find his ass guilty.

“Just… think about it. Here,” he said, holding his hand out. “Give me your phone. I’ll put my number in, and I promise not to say another word about it. But if you change your mind, one text and we’ll be here helping you move everything out and across the street. We won’t have anyone else in that room until fall, so you have at least a couple months, and it should all be fixed by then, right?”

I couldn’t do anything but look at him and slowly blink again.

I loathed his existence, and yet in that moment, I saw a glimpse of the boy I used to know.

The boy I thought I knew, anyway — the one who was crushed under the pressure of what he thought he should be, who had deep thoughts and feelings that he didn’t share with anyone but me.

“Phone,” he said, wiggling his fingers.

I blamed the lack of sleep and the supreme yearning to get him out of my house for my actions next. I dug my phone out of my pocket and handed it to him. He put his number in, sent a text to himself so he’d have my number, too, and then gave it back to me.

“One text,” he said, and then true to his word, he turned and left.

“Fucking shit hammock,” I muttered under my breath once he was gone.