The Hardest Fall(16)

“He said you’re a family friend’s daughter.” There was a pause, so I looked up. “Are you not?”

I wanted to laugh. “Yeah, I am. Family friend. So, what’s your deal?”

A little hardness seeped into his eyes, and he leaned back. “My living situation changed in these last few days, and apparently I need a place to stay. Coach insisted that this would be okay. If you’re gonna be uncomfortable with me being around…if this is not okay, Zoe…”

With the speed I looked up I almost gave myself whiplash. His eyes were intent on me. He remembers my name? Sure, he would remember who I was—how could he forget that-weird-freshman-who-made-a-fool-of-herself—but he remembered my name? It had been a year since the last time I hadn’t quite managed to hide away from him, and a year was a long time to remember a stranger’s name.

“You remember my name?” I asked, genuinely surprised.

The smile came out again and his features visibly softened, now sincere, playful, and inviting. I forgot what I’d even asked. “Like I said back then, I had a feeling I’d get to see you again. I thought we’d get another shot. I didn’t think it’d take a year to get that shot…but here we are.”

There was that word again.

I gave up on the pillow, pulled my legs up and under me, and averted my eyes. Where was my phone when I needed it to hide behind? Instead, I sat up straighter and lightly grabbed the armrest with one hand. “What do you mean by another shot?”

“You know what I mean.”

“Actually, I’m pretty sure I don’t.”

“The kiss.” He tilted his head, and one of his eyebrows did this arching thing that made him look really attractive. “The last time we saw each other, we said maybe we’d make it happen next time. Ring any bells?”

That bell rang, all right. Turned out, I did know what he was talking about after all.

“See, the way I remember it, it was you who said that, and I’m pretty sure I was trying to get out of there as quickly as possible.”

“Why is that?” he asked without missing a beat.

I let go of my death grip on the armrest and rubbed my hands on my thighs. Did we have to talk about this again?

“Why is what?”

“Why do you always try to get away from me as quickly as possible?”

“Could it be because I don’t know you?”

“You told me you were going to kiss me the first time we met.”

I kept my eyes on the general area of his face. “First, we never actually met”—I did quick air quotes—“that first time. I didn’t give you my name, you didn’t give me yours. So, we didn’t actually meet, and I told you then that my friends…actually, not really friends, my roommate and her friends dared me to kiss you. I told you that, and just so you know, they already knew you were dating someone, apparently for quite some time, so they dared me to kiss you in front of everyone so I would make a fool out of myself and face your wrath. They thought it would be fun, thought I should loosen up a little. They didn’t like your girlfriend and wanted to see the look on her face.”

Fewer words, Zoe. Use fewer words, please.

He seemed to process what I had just blurted out and opened his mouth to answer, but before any words could come out, I sprang up from my seat in the hopes of ending the conversation. “You know what, none of this matters since it happened two years ago. I’d forgotten about it until you brought it up.” I stopped talking. He was staring at me, seeing right through my lie. Closing my eyes, I rubbed the bridge of my nose. “Okay, I’m lying. I didn’t forget about it, but I’d like to forget about it since it wasn’t one of my finest moments, if that’s okay with you. Now that we’re going to be roommates, I think that’s for the best. If you’re staying here, I should show you your room.”

Without looking at his face, I walked by him and toward the hallway that led to the extra room he would be staying in, right across from my room—two steps away from my room, if you want me to be absolutely exact.

My new roommate.

When life throws you a wide receiver out of nowhere, what are you supposed to do with him? Try your best not to look at him for too long, maybe? That’d be a good rule of thumb, I thought.

I heard his footsteps, so I knew he was following me. I opened the door and waited for him to step inside, all the while making sure not to look him in the eye. Like I said, I still needed time—alone. I needed time to calm down and process everything.

There wasn’t much furniture in the room. Just like mine, it had a pretty comfortable twin bed, a small wardrobe, a nightstand, a window that overlooked the road…and that was pretty much it, just the bare necessities, which was still better than most student apartments.

He walked past me and dumped a duffel bag right next to the bed, the same bag I’d thought he was using to stash my equipment in. I watched him quickly take everything in and then nod. “No desk, huh?”

“A desk?”

“You know, to study on?”

“Do you guys really study? I mean jocks, athletes—I always wondered. I thought you had other students do that for you.”

Stupid, stupid me.

Facing me, he raised his brows, and this time there was no playful smile forming on his lips. “I hadn’t pegged you as someone who would stereotype people.”