The Revenge Pact (Kings of Football #1)(7)
I slap the button for the sixth floor. Lord knows he won’t—even though we’re going to the same class. Every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, it’s the same scenario. I get on the elevator and he follows. We never speak. But, oh the tension is thick. On my side. He barely notices.
Besides being the star wide receiver for Braxton, he’s the Kappa president. You’d think he’d be friendly to me since I date Donovan and he was there for our meet cute, but River goes out of his way to avoid me. On the first day of class, he rushed in late with his head bent as he sat down next to me. He looked over, met my gaze, murmured Oops, can’t do it, then promptly rose up and walked to another desk five rows behind me. I had to discreetly sniff my pits.
Case in point: this past May when Donovan gave me his Kappa pin—pretty much pre-engagement if you’re Greek—River raised a maddening eyebrow, draped a lazy look over my three-inch high-tops and mini skirt, and sneered. Sneered! The pin made me an honorary little sister, but judging by his face, I didn’t rate. It’s fine. Totally! Not everyone is an Ana fan.
I’m not in a sorority.
I’m not good enough for one of the gods on campus.
The elevator stops on the second level and three girls get on, all Deltas. I’ve been to enough parties at the Kappa house over the past year to know their faces. Without even a glance at me, they gush at River as they surround him. I take a step to the back, putting distance between us.
My gaze snags on one in particular, Harper Michaels. She glances over her shoulder, her cool gaze meeting mine.
Oh, no, girl, I won’t back down, my face says. Not today. Bring it.
I hold her eyes for several seconds until she’s the one to look away.
With her white-blonde hair—not out of a bottle—pale blue cardigan, and pink lipstick, she’s beautiful in a classic way I can never be. Hailing from the same ritzy prep school in Atlanta as Donovan, they came to Braxton as boyfriend and girlfriend but broke up right before I came along. Her sorority pegged me as the “homewrecker” of their relationship, which is ridiculous. He was single when I met him and he pursued me. My chest tightens. She’s pre-law, and I wonder if she got into Harvard.
I eavesdrop on their conversation. Hard not to in an elevator.
“You’re amazing, River, and you know it,” comes from one of the Deltas. Mellany Something. Her hair is red and curled in beach waves. She strokes her hand down his arm as if she’s done it before. Probably has.
“Appreciate it, Mel, but I dropped five passes,” is his reply. “We only won three games all season. Not even a bowl game. It’s been the worst year…” His words trail off. He fidgets as he swirls the silver snake ring on his left index finger. The man is constantly moving his body, touching that ring, tapping his legs, or shifting his shoulders.
As a trio, they coo, placating him over the loss this past Saturday.
“God, tell me, why do they fall at his feet?” I mouth to myself. “He’s gorgeous, I get it, but so damn evil. Oops. Sorry, I cussed.” I’m staring at my shoes as I silently grouse, but when I glance up, I think he might have been staring at me. I’m not sure. He didn’t hear me because it wasn’t audible, yet my face heats.
“Aw, don’t be sad,” the bosomy brunette murmurs in a sexy voice as she leans into him. Audrey Something. “Besides, I can make it up to you.”
“That’s an invitation if I ever heard one,” I whisper to myself. “Poor wittle football player. Let me rub your shoulders and maybe your tiny little dick—”
He swivels his head and looks at me. I freeze mid-sentence, then cough.
“Allergies,” I murmur.
He moves his eyes off me and looks at Audrey.
Yep.
He’s hooked up with her. I walked in on them upstairs in a bathroom at the Kappa house at the start of the semester. It was a campus-wide mixer, and the line to the bathroom was long, so I slipped up to the top floor where it was quieter. I opened the door, and he had her bent over the vanity, her hair clenched in his fist as he took her from behind—fully clothed with his pants unzipped and hanging around his hips.
Our eyes met in the mirror as he fucked her.
Still as a statue, I stood there entirely too long as our eyes clung. I can recall every nuance of that incident, her yes, yes, yes, the loud roar in my head, the wash of heat that flashed over me. With my chest rising rapidly, I was transfixed as he orgasmed, his eyes low and heavy on my face. Then he had the audacity to smile. Yeah. I’ve seen River Tate’s O-face. He bites his bottom lip.
I shove the unwanted image out of my head.
The elevator stops on the fourth level and the girls get off. Audrey gives River a kiss on his cheek and whispers something in his ear.
No doubt what that was about.
On her way out, Harper’s face is flat as she sniffs at my pink knee socks, black velvet mini skirt, and Eiffel Tower cropped sweater. I push up my glasses in defiance. Try me, sorority girl.
She gives me a sly smile and lifts her hand to push a strand of hair out of her face. My breath hitches as I catch the glimmer of the diamond tennis bracelet Donovan gave her for her birthday. It’s sparkly with two rows of jewels. The total weight is three carats. Not to my taste, but she never misses an opportunity to flash it at every party and have loud conversations about it…
Donovan was the most attentive boyfriend. He buys the best gifts, she’d gush to her Delta sisters as she—once again—flashed her bracelet. I can’t believe he’s dating that girl. Then, she’d smirk, giggle, and walk away.