The Revenge Pact (Kings of Football, #1)(79)

Good.

I start pacing.

But…

The basement is empty.

They’ll be alone.

“River,” Benji hisses as he joins me then looks over his shoulder to the kitchen as if to make sure no one notices us. “Look, he must have called her. They’re going to talk, probably about the party, and we should stay out of it—”

“Why?” I snap.

He watches me, a concerned expression on his face. “Dude. You aren’t hiding it anymore. You’re teetering on the edge, man, that’s all I’m saying. Let them work out whatever they need to, and focus on you, then circle back and see—”

Right. Of course. Makes perfect sense. Do the right thing.

“No.”

Something has snapped and I can’t pull it back. She’s here. With him.

There are all kinds of love, River. I couldn’t have spent a year with him if I didn’t.

I close my eyes, wishing I could forget those words. You want to know what kills me, what I try my best to not think about? I pushed them together a year ago and she stayed. She stayed, loved him, fucked him. Thoughts race in my head. I mean, I have questions, things I could have stuck around and asked last night but didn’t. Did she always want me like I wanted her? Did she? How could she pretend with him?

I stop pacing.

No, she isn’t like that. She did love him, right, right, and it cuts, it cuts.

I fucked them up.

My hands rake through my hair and I let out a juicy curse.

He grabs my shoulder. “One brother to another—they need to talk, and you know it. They didn’t have a proper chat Friday.”

“Maybe I don’t give a shit anymore.”

His grip tightens. “Wanna know what I admire about you? When anyone is stressed, you calm them. When a brother is out of gas, you put in fuel. You drop your ego and put yourself second. It’s what makes us the best. Guys are begging to be part of Kappa.”

It’s not enough.

Not anymore.

I may not be back.

I might not see her again except for the ski trip.

Her Kiss me, River.

Her breathy gasps.

The sound she makes when she comes…

“Let me go, Benji.”

He drops his hand as I take the stairs, and I’m halfway there when I groan out my frustration and stop.

What if I see something I don’t want to?

What if she never really wanted me at all?

She wanted revenge. Payback.

Maybe the rooftop was enough to tide her over, to throw in his face and say, Hey, look what I did with your frat brother—

Stop.

Fucking.

Stop.

She isn’t like that. Kian was a joke to her. She didn’t even want to do it; I saw that dread on her face. Regardless of why she dreaded it, payback mentality isn’t who she is. She didn’t care that I wasn’t going to be around on the ski trip to help. She cares about herself too much as a person to give revenge that much power. I know it, I know it. On the rooftop, I told her I didn’t want to be her revenge, but I knew as soon as the words came out it was wrong. She’s full of love, inside and out, and she doesn’t use people.

I grab the handrail, my chest heaving as I plop down on one of the steps.

If I barge in on them, what kind of trouble would it start?

What would I say when I don’t even know how she feels about me?

Why is she here?

Do I want a knock-down, drag-out fight like I had with Dex?

Cops coming?

A big upheaval in my own house?

A divided frat?

I have responsibilities, a band of brothers who respect me. I’m their leader and they look up to me. That pressure eats at me, reminding me that they haven’t even been broken up for a week, and here I am, jonesing to cause trouble.

Can’t I wait?

Give her space?

So many thoughts bounce in my head and I can’t focus on any single one enough to calm myself. I twist my ring over and over.

I’m vaguely aware of Benji sitting next to me on the stairs.

He hands Spike over, and I hold him in my lap. Ugliest lizard ever, but he settles in and clings to my shirt. He glances at me, not quite an evil eye, but it’s debatable. “Does he bite?”

“Only if he doesn’t like you, and he loves everyone. Don’t kiss him though.”

“Wasn’t planning on it.”

“He might carry salmonella or strange bacteria, I don’t know. He likes Guns N’ Roses. Shuts his eyes and goes right to sleep.”

“Has he eaten today?”

“Three crickets. Took a video. When you watch it in slow-mo, his tongue is creepy, and the cricket’s legs are like Save me, save me! It’s hilarious. I’ll text it to you.”

A few moments of silence pass and I take several deep breaths, willing my coiled muscles to relax.

“Thanks for coming after me,” I say. “Guess I lost it for a second.”

There’s a pause, then, “Yeah. I’ve seen how you stare at her in class. You love her.”

I push down the lump in my throat and keep my gaze on Spike. “Crazy. I barely know her,” I murmur.

“You know her. You’ve been around her for a year.” A huff comes from his chest. “Been thinking about our conversation last week, and you’re right—I am the woo-woo dude. Laugh all you want, but I think your dad wanted one last talk with you, his only son. Maybe to make sure you survived. Who knows how the afterlife works? Maybe he needed to see you, to comfort himself and share his love. I don’t know. I think these experiences happen to people, but we don’t hear about it because we think it makes us sound crazy or deranged. I think he was there with you before he passed on to somewhere else.”