It’s not uncommon when you build someone up in your mind so thoroughly that when you actually get to know them, you realize that the person you created is far from the one in reality. Many crushes have ended in disappointment.
I keep waiting for that moment. To learn something about Peyton that will completely turn me off him and end my crush. I’m still waiting.
He’s not all football. He has some depth to him. He’s passionate about his game and doesn’t want to deviate from his dream. That could be seen as narrow-minded and unrealistic. Maybe setting yourself up for failure.
At the same time, it also allows him to dedicate himself fully to one set of skills. He’s not taking tons of time for study, but putting it all back into his game. It’s admirable.
But he’s not all football. He’s talked about football some, but only when I bring it up. He doesn’t get stuck on the topic. He’s not offended that I don’t know football more than the basics.
He has other likes. Other skills. Other passions, even if he doesn’t see them as equally important. There’s no doubt in my mind that this date could have gone disastrously with anyone else. Being caught in a lightning storm when on a fucking lake is dangerous. Incredibly dangerous.
Peyton didn’t panic. He remained calm, knowing exactly what to do, and he made it happen. He brought us to shore without my help. Probably with my hindrance more than anything. We found the cabin. We’re dry and have eaten.
This could have gone badly over and over again. But he even had a plan for how to keep us safe if this cabin didn’t exist. I think we’re both incredibly thankful it does, but he’d have kept us safe and alive without it.
Then there are the base needs. Orgasms. Say what you want, but bad sex can entirely turn you off someone. It doesn’t even have to be that they’re bad at sex. It could be something as simple as being incompatible. Maybe you like different things.
Somehow, this man is even my perfect bed partner. The sounds he makes, the feel of his body, the way we move together in total harmony. Everything about it is amazing. I have a feeling it’s only going to get better as we continue.
My crush hasn’t dwindled at all. If anything, it’s only strengthened. That’s dangerous.
Peyton sighs in his sleep, his fingers curling against my back. Gently, so I don’t wake him, I touch the back of his shoulder and let my fingers trail down his spine. He’s so beautiful. So perfect. There’s no wonder I have a crush on him. It’s not just his big smile, his flirty tone, his adorable dimples.
It’s Peyton the package. Peyton the man. He’s not just a dream. He’s here. He’s real, and he’s tucked around me.
Everything is going really, really well, but there’s nothing else out here but the two of us. It’s also entirely possible this could be nothing but a fling. I imagine it’s easy to fall into this exact scenario with literally anyone under the same set of circumstances.
When we get back to campus, back to our lives, will this be anything other than a memory for him? Will he think back on it at all?
Worse, will Peyton regret it? Will he act like it never happened? Will he come into the café and pretend I’m still just the barista that he barely talks to? Pretends to flirt with? Or maybe he won’t acknowledge me at all.
I bought a date, after all. It doesn’t come with a lifetime guarantee. It doesn’t promise anything after this one date.
CHAPTER 9
PEYTON
There’s something about rain that makes for the perfect conditions for sleeping. Maybe it’s how dark the skies are. Without the sun, it’s not evident that it’s time to wake up. It might be the steady white noise that never lets up. Or the fact that it’s often chilly, innately making you want to curl up under blankets and stay where it’s warm.
I blame this for being the reason I don’t open my eyes until the clock on the wall reads past ten. I can’t remember the last time I woke up so late. When’s the last time I woke up and didn’t head straight for the gym or for a run?
The rain on the cabin tells me I’m doing neither right now. How can it possibly rain this hard for so long? Is this island going to be submerged by the time it stops? The island isn’t large, and it doesn’t rise above the lake surface by much. It might be worth venturing out today to see how much the lake has risen.
Dana’s head is on my chest. He’s partially draped over me, partially falling off the bed. I chuckle, running my fingers through his hair. The ends are starting to curl. I bet he’s cute as fuck with curls.
My ass feels raw. This man knows how to fuck a guy. There’s nothing hotter than that.
Actually, it’s hard to believe I never really looked at him before now. I must see him almost every single day, and somehow, I never actually saw him. How oblivious of me. Had he been giving me signs he was crushing, but I was too caught up in my damn coach to see it?
Would it have mattered, though? I have a feeling that, before the festival, when Coach told me no outright, it wouldn’t have mattered. No one else existed.
I can’t help but think I wasted months of my life. Years, even. I’ve crushed hard on Coach Lemon since the start of my first year at RDU. How lame am I?
It wasn’t even the festival that actually drilled it into my head that no meant no from Coach. It was the conversation in his office a week later—last week—that has me feeling like a fucking tool. I hadn’t truly understood how my actions were perceived.
Coach was right. I was doing exactly everything he said. I didn’t like his no, so I continued to try for a different answer. That’s the way we’re taught, though. Keep at it. Never give up. When someone tells you no, it doesn’t mean no. It means you’re not the best option. Change that.
What’s left out of that conversation is that it only applies to certain things. Like sports. Careers. Grades. If someone tells you no in scenarios like that, prove their fucking asses wrong. You can be the best quarterback. Work hard until you wipe the field with their no.
