The Revenge Pact (Kings of Football #1)(68)

He replies politely, not being flirty…

I accidentally-on-purpose kick him with my heel.

He pivots his body toward mine, our eyes clinging as he leans in and whispers, “You want my full attention?”

“If you’re not serious about this, pack up and go,” I say. I’m insanely jealous. For no reason. He’s only being nice and speaking in short sentences, but they are determined.

“I don’t want them here,” he whispers as he grazes his finger over my throat, oh so briefly, then lets his hand drop.

Unbidden, heat washes over me, at the image of me under him, and I lean into him until our noses are inches apart. I’m getting braver, testing his walls. “If you were mine, I’d kick those girls’ asses all the way out the library door. If you were mine, it’d be so damn hot you’d never want another girl. But…you’re not, and this is my own time, and I expect you to be free of entanglements.”

“You didn’t say a word to Harper,” he says in a low voice.

“Maybe it wasn’t worth it.”

“Hey, River, are you two, like, together?” is the slightly shrill female voice that breaks into our tête-à-tête. “I mean, I’ve seen you here a couple of times.”

In our own world, we both start and turn to face her.

It’s just one girl. Her two friends have deserted her and moved on. She’s pretty, long blonde hair, pert nose.

River straightens up in his chair. “Just studying for a class.”

Sorority Girl gives him quizzical look. “Okay, ’cause I thought it would be weird for the president of the Kappas to be with Ana.” A titter comes from her, but she’s looking at River, not me. I don’t exist in her world except as a tidbit of gossip. “I was at the party, you know. Heard everything. Then Mellany posted the audio, and wow, now everyone—”

My pen sails through the air, hits her sweater, and falls to the floor. “Keep talking, sorority girl, and I’m going to pluck out your eyeballs—”

“Easy now, I don’t want to bail you out of jail,” River murmurs as he tosses an arm around me casually. His chest shakes, and I think he murmurs Eyeballs? Really?

Her face reddens as she glares at me then flips a strand of hair over her shoulder. “You’re really rude. I was just making conversation—”

“Bye,” I say.

She glances at River.

“Anastasia has spoken,” he says very seriously.

She flounces off while he chuckles, the sound low and husky.

“That felt good,” I murmur.

“Hmmm. I like you throwing pens at random girls in the library. Epic.”

We laugh.

A while later, we’ve gone over his notes, picked out quotes to support his theme, and organized his paragraphs. Articulating his ideas is where he shines; it’s the writing that slows him down. We talk about how to wrap up his conclusion. He’s almost there.

“We’ve been going at this for two hours. I can’t believe I sat still that long,” he says later as he jiggles his leg under the table.

He whips off his hoodie, the smell of mangoes drifting around us as he tosses it on the table. His muscles flex as he moves his arms back behind his neck and stretches. My eyes drape over him, the perfect body, the bulky arms, his taut forearms, dang how can you have muscles there. Even the dark hair on his arms is attractive. I wish I could go back to that night in the library. If I had a do-over— I rip my eyes away from the perfection of River.

He’s a guy with principles and a deep sense of loyalty. He said integrity means something to him.

Another thought sneaks in: he read The Outsiders because of me, and normally that wouldn’t be a big deal—I recommend books to people all the time—but for him, it means he spent a lot of time reading it. I influenced him— My train of thought gets interrupted when my eyes roam the library and snag on a table that’s filled up with guys. I straighten my shoulders. “Whiskey, tango, foxtrot, alpha alert in the green zone, repeat, target is in the basket—or the periodicals. Engage, engage.” I ease out of my seat while rummaging through my purse, snatching my lipstick and sliding on fresh color.

River watches me, not moving.

“What’s the holdup, private?”

His gaze goes behind me, seeing the group, and his eyes narrow. He glances back at me.

“What? Operation Rebound is on.”

He lets out a long-suffering groan and stands. “Stop with the military speak in front of them. That’s just for me.”

“Like it?”

“A little.” He grins.

“It’s new. You bring it out of me.”

“Why?”

I shrug. “Don’t know. It’s like… I’ve known you forever.”

“Yeah,” he says softly as he twists his ring, looks down at the table, then back up at me. “Anastasia?”

The word ripples over my skin like a caress. I swallow. “What?”

“I…” He stops. Several moments tick by.

“I?”

“Are you sure? I don’t want you to make a mistake…”

We stare at each other, my body hyperaware of the intensity of his gaze. I’m vaguely aware of the sound of papers shuffling, the low hum of students, but all I see is him.