The Revenge Pact (Kings of Football #1)(37)

“Three things, Anastasia. Tell me.”

She chews on her red lips. “You tell me three things today. Maybe if I can live vicariously through the most popular guy on campus…” Her voice trails off, her jaw popping as if she’s holding back emotion.

“Alright.” I count them down on my fingers. “I found Hollis’s secret stash of Ding Dongs—they were under his bed, so typical—I remembered underwear this morning, and Crew made omelets for breakfast.” I pause. “Your turn.”

“Why?”

“Why not?”

“Why is the elevator so slow?” she mutters.

“Tell me three things. Please.”

She does a double take. “Is this where I’m like your…pet project? Don’t feel sorry for me.”

Rainbow, sorry is the last thing I feel for you.

I want you under me.

Deep and hard.

There aren’t enough minutes in the day for how long I want to fuck you.

She blows out a breath. “Fine. I can see you aren’t going to budge. One, June is still around. Sam is keeping her low key. Two, I finished my paper, and three, I got off work to go on the ski trip.”

I get hung up on the last one. “You’re going?”

“Mhmm. I’m not on the same flight as you guys, but yeah.”

“You ski?”

“I plan to sit in the hot tub and drink. Kidding—I can ski.”

“How are things with Donovan?”

Her throat bobs. “I-I can’t talk to you about him. I mean, yeah, um, it…doesn’t feel right, you know, to him.” A sigh escapes her lips.

The door opens and she slips out, her arm brushing against my chest. I follow, sucking down the electricity between us. “Right. I just wanted to check in—”

“I know what this is, why you’re being nice to me—”

“Yeah? Tell me, because I can’t figure it out,” I snap, annoyed she won’t open up while the other side is pissed at myself for asking. “Trust me, I wish I didn’t…” I stop, my jaw clenching.

She stops at the door to class and turns to face me. Her expression torn, she takes a deep breath. “Your paper. I’m sorry I can’t help you, I really am. I love helping others, but I don’t think it’s a good idea for us…” She licks her lips, her gaze avoiding mine. “There’s something about you and me—” She halts and looks down at her feet. “Anyway, I know a few students who tutor athletes. Let me give you their names—”

“No one but you, Anastasia.”

“What? Why?”

Instinct takes over and I back her against the wall, towering over her. I tilt her chin up, and she doesn’t speak or move, just breathing fast, as my hand slides around to her nape. A hum of heat goes through my body as my hands tangle in her hair.

“River…what…” Pink rises on her cheeks as her lashes flutter.

Fuck.

Every time, I’m pushing a little more, the dark side of me winning. Monday. Her apartment. Now.

I could kiss her right now, but it’s wrong, immensely so, I’m being bad, so bad, but one touch and my dick is a steel pipe, damn, what would it be like to have her in my arms…

She gazes up at me, her eyes flaring, the gold around her pupils darkening. She swallows as goose bumps appear on her neck.

A primal sound builds in my throat.

Anger.

Frustration.

Loyalty.

Dammit. I shouldn’t be this close, shouldn’t touch her—

“I’ll wait.” I grind my teeth and step back.

Her lips part, a small puff of air coming out. She looks at my mouth. “For what?”

The lethal side of me, the one itching to play this game no matter the consequences, tries to take over and speak the truth. I shove it down.

You, I say in my head.

Leaving her there, I sweep past her and go to my seat.

Five fucking rows back.





11





“Are you sure this is okay? Donny won’t flip out?” Colette asks as she straightens the ducky toga she made from a sheet. Yes, she has a thing for ducks. She’s sculpted at least twenty, and they litter our apartment.

“It’s the biggest party of the year. He won’t even notice us,” Lila snarks as she adjusts the cream-colored Grecian-style dress she ordered online. “Kappas have the best parties, and Ana is our hookup.”

“You’re welcome,” I say dryly. “And don’t worry, there are plenty of non-Greeks here tonight. Donovan will be fine.” I made it clear months ago that I don’t enjoy parties where my besties aren’t with me.

I lead them around the sidewalk to the kitchen entrance of the house. We parked three blocks over since the street and parking lot were full. We’re late. Big time. I worked a five-to-ten shift at the bar, flew home, saw June, then threw my outfit together. Donovan sent several texts asking when I was coming, even though he knows I work on Fridays.

“Love the mini toga. Strapless works with your boobs. And you’re wearing your red lipstick. Shit is about to go down,” Lila murmurs as she takes in the outfit I shortened with my sewing machine. Made from a white sheet, the bodice is gathered, and a silver chain belt dangles around my waist, cinching it. My hair is pulled up on the sides with silver leaf-shaped combs, the strands cascading down my bare back. Wide metal cuffs wrap around my upper arms, and the silver stilettos on my feet put me close to six feet.