“Oh yeah. She was brighter red than a tomato, and the tears made her eyes seem wider. She really is pretty.” I flash him a dark look, and he throws his hands up. “For a girl I have no interest in.”
Don’t ask me why I needed him to say that.
But I do, especially with the guilt that is overwhelming me right now. It all just seems wrong, though. Like, unreal. There isno way in hell she can’t read. She’s getting her master’s in sports communication; you have to read and write for that. She is quick when she types me back, but what if she’s voice texting? I know how I get when I’m embarrassed, all growly and pissy. She may not be an athlete, but I feel like she has an athlete mind-set with how big her goals are.
I’m not saying that nonathletes aren’t goal-oriented, but usually, they don’t live and breathe making their goals happen. It takes being beaten up by a sport you love to look past the hurdles in order to make what you want to happen. I actually did a paper about this my junior year, and the research was fascinating. When I told Ambrosia about it as DoesMyBreathStink60, she agreed and told me about a paper she did for her psychology class about being an athlete.
It was refreshing and…fuck, I like talking to her.
I am sure she likes talking to me.
Above all, I need to apologize for upsetting her.
I pat Blake’s shoulder. “Thanks, man. Drinks on me.”
He gives me a sad smile before walking away as I bring out my phone. My mind is reeling, and I need someone to help me think this through. I hit Louis’s number, and he answers right away. “What’s up, brother?”
He says it like theMadden NFLstreamer Sketch, and I can’t help but bark out a laugh. He’s such a dork. “Bro, my plan backfired. She cried.”
His laughter stops, and I know he’s probably frowning. He helped me with the posters last night and promised he’d talk me up at the game I invited her to. “No shit. You made her cry? You’re a right bastard.”
I roll my eyes. “Where are you?”
“Quad with Jennings.”
I head toward him. “On my way.”
“Great. Love when you interrupt my date with my boyfriend.”
“Right? Third-wheeling is my favorite.”
I hang up to his laughing and jog toward the quad as my mind plays through every interaction I’ve had with Ambrosia. Her quick little grins, her bright eyes and flushed cheeks. The way she stepped right up to me, looked directly at me, and then flicked my nose. Even with the shock of it, I memorized how her head fell back and her lashes kissed her cheeks as she glared at me. How sharp and clever she is. How fucking dazzling she is.
How not having the chance to see what she can add to my future seems worse than not picking between football and hockey.
A thought that annihilates me and makes me jog faster.
CHAPTER
FOURTEEN
Dawson
I head toward the trees where I know Louis and Jennings will be. The whole time, my thoughts circle around Ambrosia as I try to figure out why she would act like that. Did I expect her to cuss the guys out? Sure. I was fully ready for her to chase me down the first time, but she’s been radio silent. I don’t know. It’s weird, but I’m not backing down. I want to message her just to make sure she’s okay, but I want it to be from my mouth when she learns that I’m DoesMyBreathStink60.
I’ve created one hell of a shitshow for myself.
I find Louis and Jennings under a super-old cherry blossom, with a Chipotle bag between them and their bowls in their laps. They greet me as I sit down, taking the chips and salsa.
Jennings snorts. “Please help yourself. There’s some guacamole in there too.”
I tip a chip at him. “Let me know when you want to leave my brother. I’ll snatch you up.”
Louis glares as Jennings laughs loudly. “Oh, Dawson honey. Can’t have two tops.”
I whip my head to Louis. “You’re a bottom? I knew I should have let you win some of those wrestling matches when we were growing up.”
“Jesus Christ,” he mutters, but Jennings and I just laugh. “Anyway! What happened?”
