The Revenge Pact (Kings of Football #1)(33)

“Is everything okay?” River says as he approaches me.

I bite my lip. No, it isn’t, but—

Donovan frowns at River. “Why did you drop by again?”

I grab my novel off the coffee table—I brought it with me from the kitchen—and wave it at him. “I left my novel in class. He brought it. In case you’ve forgotten, it’s a hard class.” I’m certain River doesn’t want Donovan to know he asked me for help.

Donovan fidgets, his eyes darting around the room, taking in the mylar balloons, the streamers on the floor. He studies my countenance, no doubt reading my hurt. His face crumples as he rushes toward me. “Okay, I’m an asshole. I swear I have a gift for you, a beautiful one at the house. All day, something’s been niggling at me, and I couldn’t…” His voice trails off as he grimaces. “No wonder you never replied to my texts.”

He takes my hands that are at my sides. He unlaces my fists and tangles our fingers together as he pulls me against him. “This is bad, I know, I know. I got derailed. You know how my head works. I get consumed. Just forgive me. Please.”

My throat tightens as prickles of unease wash over me. I want to let it go, I do, but it’s the other things…

“I love you, Ana, and you love me,” he says in my ear, but it’s loud enough for River to hear. “You feel me?”

He embraces me, one hand kneading the muscles in my back, the other on my ass. A long sigh slips from my lips as I inhale his cinnamon smell.

Donovan’s the guy I’ve been with the longest. He brought me flowers every week for the first six months we dated. He moved me into this apartment, even though he didn’t approve of the neighborhood. He laughs at my jokes. He tells me I’m beautiful, that he needs me with him at Harvard…

“I’m out of here.” River brushes past us, and my eyes follow him over Donovan’s shoulders. His right hand taps his leg over and over. ADHD.

Or emotion? I wish I could see his face—

“Later,” Donovan tells him as his arms tighten around me.

The door slams as I call out a goodbye.

Donovan tugs me to the couch and sets me in his lap. My back presses to his chest, and when I try to pull away, he buries his face in my hair. “Just listen to me, okay? Hear me out. You’re hurt and angry. I would be too. I came in and acted self-righteous. Of course you’re your own person. I don’t like seeing you high because it’s bad for you.” He groans under his breath. “Fuck. I-I can’t believe I forgot. It was a tough weekend, horrible. I kept wishing you were there. My parents drove me crazy—” He stops and exhales a long breath.

“Over me,” I state.

He grows silent, the air thickening. He moves my hair to the side and presses a kiss to my shoulder. “Let’s not talk about them. Let’s talk about what a dick I am. Talking about getting into Harvard, asking for advice on neighborhoods—”

“I didn’t get in.”

He freezes, an incredulous sound in his tone. “What? When?”

I untangle his arms from around me, stand, and face him. “I knew last week. Columbia, Boston College, Boston University, Suffolk—they all rejected me. I don’t have a school next year.”

He rubs his eyes with the heels of his palms. “All of them? Why wouldn’t you tell me?”

I shrug.

“We can fix this. I’ll get my parents to talk to the dean of admissions…” He stops, frowning.

A wan smile crosses my face. “Your parents aren’t going to help me, and I don’t want them to. There are other universities. I haven’t heard from some of them, but I think Brooklyn Law will take me…” It’s the closest to Harvard, but still three hours away.

He grimaces. “Harvard is the best, Ana. It’s the volunteer stuff, the extracurriculars. If you could find some time to polish up your application—”

“It’s too late now. You know I work a lot of hours.”

He stands and tries to pull me into his arms, but I step away. “Ana. Come on.” He gives me a baleful look. “I can’t go to Brooklyn with you. You know that. Don’t blame me because you didn’t get into Harvard. If you’d let me help you with money, you wouldn’t have to work—”

“I’m not blaming you,” I say curtly.

And him give me money? Ha.

I carve my own way. Always have.

He checks his watch, smugness on his face. “Hey, it’s still your birthday so I didn’t entirely miss it. Let’s get out of here and go back to the house.”

Sounds so romantic.

“I need to study.”

“High?” His lips compress. “I’m not staying here. This place reeks.”

“Go home then,” I say as I step away and nod my head. “There’s the door.”

“Come with me.”

“I need to stay here in case Lila and Colette end up in the basement or at a tattoo parlor.” True.

He drops his hands. “Why can’t you give me some slack here? I’m sorry I forgot.”

“Oh, I’m being very understanding, Donovan.”

He narrows his eyes. “Are you? Really? You know how important this semester has been, the work I’ve done for the frat. My charity. My classes. I’m allowed to forget things.”