"Now, wait a minute." He held up one of his hands in defense. "That's not what I said. She was great and all, and we had a good time, but..." he paused, his demeanor softening but also turning more focused as his eyes roamed over my face. "She didn't excite me or take up all my thoughts when we weren't together. I didn't notice when she would enter a room, I wouldn't have rather us be arguing than to not talk at all, and my body didn't long to hold her in my arms wanting nothing more than to be alone."
I swallowed. His words seemed to reach across the table between us, feeling almost tangible like the softest caress.
I stared back at him, not knowing how to respond. If that was possibly how he felt about me, then why had he said those things to his friends? Why had he left me in the dust? Why?
It was a question that haunted me despite my best efforts to not care and move on.
I cleared my throat and broke our gaze, my voice shaky. "You still haven't answered the question."
He blinked a few times and looked around the quad, as if he'd forgotten for a second where we were. "My dream date wouldn't be about what we did, but who I was with. If I was with the person I'm crazy about, any date with her would be my dream date."
Wow. That was a perfect answer. Like really perfect.
"The girls will go crazy for that answer," I said, trying to sound unaffected by him.
"That's not why I said it." He fidgeted a little in his seat, looking around the quad. "It's the truth."
A small smile sat on my lips. Was he embarrassed? Was this big, cocky football player admitting his true feelings about what he wanted in a future relationship? Could he possibly want a more meaningful connection than just one-night stands and weekend flings? Or was I misinterpreting his answer and body language, and letting wishful thinking cloud my judgment? Either way it didn't matter since I knew I wouldn't be that girl for him. I'd learned that the hard way.
He turned back to look at me, his brown eyes soft. "Do you want to finish this interview over a cup of coffee at Espresso Yourself?" he asked, shaking me from my thoughts.
He wanted to go get coffee? Now?
The answer should have been easy. I should have immediately said no. It would have been so simple to say a small two-letter word, the smart thing to do. There was no good that could come from moving this interview to the coffee shop. Prolonging our time together would only mess with my head and my feelings. All we had left to cover was his daily schedule, and then I could go back to my room to start writing the article about him. I could have been one step closer to truly moving on from Rush. There would have been no reason for us to talk again or spend any more time together. This was supposed to be it, our last interaction.
But maybe that was exactly why the word no didn't come out of my mouth. Instead, I heard myself say, "Yeah, that sounds great."
5
Rush
Icouldn't believe my luck when Scarlet agreed to go get coffee with me. She only hesitated for a second before saying yes, and I loudly let out the breath of air I hadn't known I'd been holding as I waited for her answer. Her small laughter at my reaction had me smiling too.
Being able to put our past behind us and pretend we hadn't met before this afternoon had been amazing. Freeing, actually. I'd wanted so many times to go back and redo how things had gone between us last year. I went back and forth, wishing I could have been stronger and never been with her that night so I wouldn't have hurt her, and wishing I had just told her why I couldn't be with her even though I wanted nothing more.
Picking up my coffee, I took a sip, avoiding eye contact with Scarlet and hoping I hadn't let my face show my thoughts. She sat across from me, her coffee cup in hand as her light pink lips barely parted allowing her to blow on the hot liquid.
Espresso Yourself had become a popular hangout spot near campus over the last year, and I liked having an excuse to be able to be with Scarlet in public. If Coach Matthews or any other football player saw us sitting alone in this booth together, I could explain it away as all a part of the interview for the school newspaper.
My idea in coming here had been to extend our time together, to enjoy being with her without her hating me. But now that we were here, I didn't know what to say. I was nervous and my palms were sweaty. This felt more like a date.
"So," I said, finally breaking the silence. "What else do you need for the interview?"
I didn't want to particularly talk about the interview, but I was coming up blank on what to say.
"Oh, um," she said, setting her cup down and reaching over to get her laptop out of her bag. "We still need to go over what a typical day looks like for you."
Why anyone cared what I did everyday was beyond me, but when you're a beloved football player in a college town, I guess it was exciting news.
"Okay," I said, taking another sip before answering. "I wake up early and head to the gym, and I work out for about an hour or so. Then I head to my classes, eat lunch on campus, work on some homework, and then in the afternoon I spend about two hours at football practice, sometimes longer if we are watching film that day.” I looked around the bustling coffee shop, thinking about what else I normally did each day. “Once I'm all showered, I either go hang out with friends or head back to my apartment to do more homework."
"You forgot to mention all the women you spend your time with," she said sarcastically. "You don't want to add that in?"
I ignored her jab. "You can if you want to. I don't have a set time or schedule with women."
She rolled her eyes. "How gentlemanly of you."
I put on a smug smile. "I try."
