Obviously.
I bite my bottom lip, stalling. Because knowing it and hearing it are two very different things.
“I’m not upset about Saturday night.” He shakes his head, blond locks falling over his forehead. “That was an accident, Quinn. It could’ve happened to anyone.”
I shoot him a pointed look.
“Well, maybe not just anyone,” he amends, lips twitching.
His words should be a relief, but I can’t let go of the tension coiled deep in my belly.
“If you’re not mad about what happened at the hotel,” I ask, wringing my hands. “What exactly do we need to talk about?”
29
COOPER
A better question would be,what don’t we need to talk about?
First things first.
There’s a copy of The Collegian on the table and it’s open to the article that inspired this little chat.
My pulse accelerates at the sight of that damn headline.
Another One Bites the Dust.
“What the hell is this?” I slide the paper across the table and stab the article with my pointer finger.
Never in a million years did I think my sex life would be headline news.
No, that’s not quite true. I’ve always known it was a possibility, which is why I’m careful. It just never occurred to me that I needed to be on my guard with Quinn.
She frowns. “It’s a newspaper. Surely, you’ve seen one before.”
Ignoring the sarcasm, I lean forward and rest my forearms on the table. “My father is up for reelection. If word gets out that I’m the guy in this story—” I pause, choosing my words carefully. “Let’s just say it won’t be good for his campaign.”
Or his family.
“Did you actually read the article?” She arches a slender brow in silent challenge. “If so, then you know it’s anonymous. You have nothing to worry about.”
Yeah-fucking-right.
The media is relentless. One whiff of this and all hell will break loose.
“Because there are so many guys strutting around campus with three stitches in their forehead?”
She shrugs, her delicate shoulders rising and falling easily. “I’m sure you’re not the only one. It was Homecoming.”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“Maybe you don’t remember this because of all the painkillers, but the ER was packed. Besides, most people will just assume you got banged up during the game.”
She’s not wrong. Cuts and bruises are part of the sport, but not everyone will be fooled so easily.
“My roommates are not most people.” I rub the back of my neck. “And before you say it, they’re athletes, not idiots.”
Annoyance flashes in her eyes. “Would they really sell you out to the press?”
