Player's Princess (A Royal Sports Romance)(34)

Her fleet of young, male teacher’s assistants collect the papers. As soon as mine leaves my hand, I grab everything and rush to depart the hall. The way Grandolf was looking at me, I'm lucky I'm not smoldering. Thorlief and Bjorn gather up the presents and carry them in big armfuls.

"Get rid of those," I command. "Bjorn, take them back to the house."

"As my princess commands."

Thorlief piles his fellow guard's arms up with all the gifts and sends him shakily on his way, hanging close to me as I walk to my next class.

Thankfully, there are no antics there. I keep my head down and focus, and it passes quickly enough.

Until I'm on my way out.

Jason: Study tonight?

Anastasia: No

Jason: Please?

Anastasia: Go away.

Jason: Grandolf is going to be hard on you on the midterm.

Anastasia: Whose fault is that?

Jason: I won't let you fail.

Anastasia: I can take care of myself.

Jason: You don't have to.

Groaning, I find a quiet spot to sit with Thorlief and eat my packed lunch that Mavra made for me. I fear if I go outside, Jason will have another stunt waiting for me. It fills me up well enough, and then on I go to class again.

By the end of the day, I have gotten used to the tshirts. It seems like half of campus is wearing them. Over the last two years, I had thought the student body had grown used to me. The stares became fewer and fewer until it seemed they had forgotten about me. I was happy enough with that.

Now everyone is staring me again, whispering to each other. It seems everywhere I go, I am the topic of conversation.

"There you are," Jason yells, running up to me. "Let's grab a bite to eat and go study, huh?"

Thorlief glares at him. Bjorn has rejoined us, and the two flank me with their massive arms crossed over their broad chests.

Jason is undeterred. He strides right up, grinning. "Did you open your presents?"

"No. I threw them away."

Why won't he listen? If he keeps pursuing me like this, he's going to get hurt. Can't he see the bodyguards staring him down?

"You're lying. What's your favorite flower?"

"I hate flowers."

"Right." He rolls his eyes. "Come on, you have to have one. Tell me."

"No."

"Favorite food?"

"Cod."

"Eww, really?"

"Yes, really. It's better than some disgusting cheeseburger."

"Have you ever had a cheeseburger?"

"Yes, they serve them in the cafeteria."

"Ah," he says, "so you haven't." He offers his hand. "Come on, I'll go get you one before we go study."

"We're not going to go study, and I'm not eating dinner with you. I can't."

"You can't or you don't want to?"

Damn him, I do want to. Doesn't he listen?

"I told you, it's not you. I can't go out with you."

I stride past him, turning up my nose.

For a moment. Then I look back. He stands in place, watching me walk away, a sad look on his face. Part of me wants to run back and apologize, of all things. When he spots me looking, he locks gazes with me and smiles.

I can feel myself blushing. Damn him.

I brace myself for whatever surprise awaits me when I return to the house. There is nothing on the sidewalk this time, or posted to the door.

Instead, after I close the door behind me and start trudging up to my study, past the pile of unopened presents, the doorbell rings.

Thorlief looks at me and I nod. He opens the door.

Standing on the porch is one of Jason's gargantuan twin housemates, dressed in a red uniform with an absurdly small hat perched on his head.

"Candygram for Anastasia."

"What?" Thorlief snaps.

"Candygram for Anastasia."

He thrusts out his hands, holding another heart-shaped box of candy in his sausage-sized fingers. Thorlief tries to take it, and he snatches it back.

"Candygram for Anastasia."

"Tell him I've had enough," I say, yanking the box from his hands. I nod, and Thorlief slams the door shut.

"This is beginning to annoy me," Thorlief says.

"You?" I say wryly.

I peel the box open and look inside. More candy, with a note. On it is inscribed a poem, in gold lettering.

Dearest Ana,

Roses are red

Violets are blue

I want to date you

I crumple the paper and throw it in the trash bin. I keep the candy. He buys good candy. I turn to the giant pile of presents. I should just throw them all in the trash, but I think of the sad look in his eyes and sit down on the sofa to peel off the wrapping paper anyway.

The first box is full of more candy. The second contains one of the tshirts. The third holds a pair of matching lounge pants with "Jason" printed down one leg and "Anastasia" printed down the other. In the fourth box, I find a pair of socks with one of our names printed on each. Then a hoodie. Then in the last box, a pair of underwear. Printed on the seat is the same heart logo and JASON + ANA as the tshirts.

I throw the boxes aside and storm upstairs. My phone buzzes on the way up. I yank it out of my pocket, expecting another text.