Sweet Fall (Sweet Home #2)(52)
All the bad thoughts that were inevitably going to spring to mind about how the hell I would ever sleep with Austin stopped, and I almost gasped in shock at his confession. Austin simply smirked at my reaction but quickly went back to his somber mood.
“Something else is bothering you,” I said.
Slamming his empty bottle into the trashcan, Austin covertly reached down to my hand and gripped it tight. “The dean came to our practice this morning, warning that drugs were on campus and that he was pushing a zero tolerance approach. He warned that if any footballers were seen dealing or taking anything, they’d be done. The cunt glared at me the entire f*ckin’ time, Pix. He knows I know something. I could see the accusation in his beady little eyes.”
Stressed at the whole damn situation, I squeezed his hand and said, “Austin, you need to stop your brother and protect your future here at UA. It’s gone too far. It’s getting too close to you being caught. It could jeopardize your entire future!”
Austin slipped his hand from mine, his face adopting a stony expression. “Leave it, Pix. This shit ain’t none of your concern.”
Feeling as though he’d slapped me, I snapped back, “Well, at least I know my place.”
I went to turn away when Austin gripped my hand. “Shit, Pix, I shouldn’t have said it like that. I just… I just…”
Sighing, I turned to face him again, whispering, “I just… care for you, that’s all.”
Austin’s deep, dark eyes fixed on mine, and I saw them flare at my words. “Okay, let me start again. There is no f*ckin’ way you’re getting anywhere close to all that shit, to that part of my life, Pix. You gotta be protected from the Heighters. They ain’t no pansy group, and they don’t want anyone outside of family knowing their business. If Axe and Gio ever found out about you and me…”
Swallowing in trepidation, I began to move away, not wanting to hear the rest out here in public. Then I heard, “Meet me tonight at the summerhouse. Nightfall.”
Squeezing my eyes shut, I allowed myself to look back at Austin. My heart fell. The big, tattooed, and menacing-looking wide receiver of the famous Crimson Tide was begging me with his dark eyes.
As I nodded my head in agreement, Austin seemed to relax, only to say, “Why aren’t you flying in the stunts, Pix? I watched you tell Shelly you were done.”
My blood ran cold. Austin stepped closer and whispered, “You go through shit, you get bad thoughts, you tell me. I won’t judge.”
His offer bloomed in my chest and before water filled my eyes, I whispered back, “Okay.” I wouldn’t, though. Austin wouldn’t understand.
He blew out a breath and reached up to brush back my hair. I didn’t even flinch, and I wondered when it was exactly that Austin’s touch to my “safe zones,” as Dr. Lund called them, became acceptable? When had he broken through my walls?
Allowing the simple brush of Austin’s fingers across my forehead, I said quietly, “That applies to you too. When you go through shit, you tell me. Don’t let it bury you alive.”
Austin genuinely seemed taken aback by that, as if no one had ever offered him that before. He never verbally replied, but I could see by the tensing of his strong jaw that my words meant something to him.
“Carillo! Weights! Let’s go!” someone shouted from behind, and when I looked over Austin’s shoulder, Rome Prince was in the distance, arms folded over his broad chest, watching us.
Austin turned around and gave him an annoyed wave.
“Lex,” Rome greeted and flicked his chin in my direction.
“Hey, Rome!” I waved back cheerily, fixing a huge smile to my face and filling myself full of pseudo energy.
“Fuck, Pix,” Austin hushed out and smirked at me.
“What?”
“Tone the bastard cheer pep down. It’s f*ckin’ freaky on you!” Dropping my mouth at Austin laughing, I watched as he turned and sprinted across the field to Rome, JD, and Reece filing in behind as they made their way to the gym. As I watched the four of them go, I thought what an unlikely group of friends they were. Especially Austin. It was like he lived this double life: football superstar with middle-class WASP friends on one hand and trailer park gangbanger whose brother was a leader of the infamous Heighters on the other. Everyone in Tuscaloosa feared the Heighters. Yet I no longer feared Austin.
In fact, it was quite the opposite.
“Lexi!” I heard my name shouted from the stands and, when I looked up, Ally Prince stood on the bottom step, waving in my direction. As I began to walk toward her, I couldn’t help but laugh at the remaining footballers finishing off their sessions, all staring at Ally with their tongues hanging out. I envied Ally’s looks, but not the attention. I’d hate that kind of spotlight.
Ally Prince was flawless. And she was also one of the loveliest, most caring people I’d ever met. She had it all, yet strangely, she never had a steady boyfriend, claiming she had no luck with guys. I found that incomprehensible considering she looked like a damn model, and I prayed that one day she would get her Prince Charming. She deserved to be treated like a queen.
As I approached the stand, I shouted up, “Hey, girl, what you doing out here? You rejoining the team for the championships?” I teased.
Ally widened her Spanish eyes in mock horror and said, “Hell no, couldn’t get me back in that uniform if you paid me!”