"It doesn't matter," I said, trying to deflect this conversation.
His face was now red. "Oh, yes it does."
My mom stepped between us "How about we all calm down and discuss this over some sweet tea?"
"Sweet tea isn't going to fix this, Mama," I said, but still glared at Ian. "Only Ian removing his ridiculous rule will work."
Ian put his hands on his hips. "Never gonna happen. I'm protecting you, Scarlet. You may not see that now, but you'll thank me one day."
I matched his stance, placing my hands on my hips. "I don't need you looking out for me. You're not my dad. I haven't had one for years, and I've been taking care of myself just fine."
The smallest flinch crossed his face at my words before he removed all expressions. "I know I'm not your dad, but that doesn't mean I won't still look out for you. And whether you tell me or not, I will find out who this guy is."
I threw my hands up in the air. "You're unbelievable." I turned and walked toward the door. Looking back at him, I added, "Don't worry, thanks toyouhe won't be coming near me. Congratulations, Coach, you may win some football games, but you've lost your stepdaughter." And with that, I slammed the door.
My hands shook as I drove back to my dorm. I should have known the conversation with Ian wouldn't go well. He was a stubborn man, and he'd been as determined as he was on game day.
Well, I could be stubborn too. I didn't care how much he was trying to protect me. What I did in my free time was none of his business. He didn't get to choose whom I dated or slept with or spent my time with.
Except he did.
My shoulders sagged at the weight of that thought. I couldn't risk messing anything up for Rush. Who knew how we'd even turn out together? And then it could have been all for nothing. Our relationship was slightly more than acquaintances. Staying away from each other would be for the best.
I'd been naïve to think that showing up at my mom and Ian’s house and telling him he'd crossed a line would make him all of a sudden retract his rule and be okay with me dating a football player. At least he knew how I felt about it. I just hoped he never found out who I'd been referring to. If Rush got benched because of my big mouth, I'd hate myself for it.
* * *
I pulled down on the end of the skirt of my Little Red Riding Hood costume as Olivia and I walked up the few steps to one of the fraternity houses throwing a massive Halloween party. The tutu-style skirt had ended up being shorter than I'd anticipated, but I'd loved the corset that cinched in my waist and pushed up my breasts, so I'd kept it. The deep red of the outfit with black accents looked great with my skin tone, and the cape was small, covering only my shoulders and reaching half-way down my back, giving maximum skin exposure.
Was I one of those cliché college girls passing off a slutty outfit as a Halloween costume? You'd better believe it. I normally didn't wear things like this, but there was something about Halloween that had me wanting to let my wild and adventurous side out.
And okay, sure, maybe I wanted to catch a certain wide receiver's attention. Sue me.
It'd been almost a week since we'd fallen asleep next to each other in that hotel room. I'd done my best to avoid him, and he hadn't made any effort to talk to me or contact me in any way. An understanding had happened between us that night, both of us accepting that we couldn’t pursue anything further with each other, no matter how much we both wanted to.
Sadness still clung to me when my thoughts went to Rush, but it was a different kind of sadness now. Before I had been hurt and upset, but now the sadness came with understanding and wanting what was best for Rush. He deserved to play football and make his family proud. Between his talent and how bright his future could be, I wasn't about to put that in danger for him.
He'd be here tonight, and as much as I wanted to see him, I needed to watch him from afar.
Gosh, that made me sound like a stalker. I needed to pull it together. I could do this. I could treat him like any other good-looking guy.
I followed Olivia into the house and couldn't wait to see Wilder's reaction to her Wonder Woman costume. She wore a tight leather dress, the top half a dark red bikini-like top with gold straps and gold stars on the edges of the cups, the bottom half was a short blue skirt with gold trim, and she wore a gold headpiece and gold wristbands for accents. With her long dark hair and killer body, she really did look like Gal Gadot in the Wonder Woman movies.
The house already smelled of beer and sweat, but I wasn't sure if that was from the party stench or just frat house stench.
We pushed through the people who were dancing in the front part of the house, walked through the wide hallway, and finally made it to the back of the house where the oversized kitchen and large living room were.
Déjà vu hit me hard. It was almost the same scene as last year. People filled the living room, not an open space on the brown couch available, people standing against the walls and behind the couch, a football game playing on the big screen TV.
I'd found Rush in the crowd instantly, wondering if he'd notice me. My costume last year had also been designed to catch his attention. So much had changed since then, but then again, also nothing at all. I stood here in a costume again, hoping he'd like what he saw.
And just like last time, Rush, Wilder, and Slate were standing against the wall watching the game. The only difference this time was they were all in costume instead of in their football jerseys.
Wilder had agreed to be Wonder Woman's love interest, Steve Trevor, and I assumed that if he had to wear a costume, he had wanted his friends to wear one as well.
Slate was dressed as a lifeguard, a pair of red swim trunks and a red whistle resting against his bare chest. In my head, I rolled my eyes. Of course he would choose a costume that showed off his body. But I guess if you looked like he did, why not?
And then there was Rush. Hot damn. He was dressed as a firefighter, black pants with the suspenders lying against a fitted maroon t-shirt that showed off his broad shoulders and strong pecs. My eyes roamed over him, enjoying every little detail, the line of his jaw, the arch of his brow, his finely styled hair, the biceps pushing against the sleeves, the way his body was shaped in a V from his shoulders to his waist.
