Staring out the window at the surrounding dorms and apartments, I once again dried my hands before I folded the tea towel and put it on the side of the counter. My fingers traced over the gray and white imitation marble countertops before they landed on the slightly yellowing gray and white checked vinyl flooring.
We’d been so lucky to keep the apartment from freshman year. Yes, we both complained about its small size, but the only people sharing the bathroom were us, and we weren’t sharing the kitchen facilities. Nor did we have to stick to whatthe cafeteria served us three times a day. Even though my scholarship covered meals, there were only so many times you could eat cafeteria food.
I had been inside some of the other accommodations, and there was worse than our apartment, but then, there was better. I had a dim recollection of the size of Jett’s bedroom and bathroom, although I was fuzzy on the details. I looked at our humble apartment, taking in the two-seater sofa and single armchair. The TV was tiny, but neither Mia nor I cared about TV, and plus, if we wanted to see anything, we used our laptops.
I often lay in bed with my iPad and headphones if I got caught up in a binge-worthy series.The Walking Deadcame to mind, which I had watched on my own. There was no way in hell Mia was going to watch it, as there was too much gore.
I was restless. The need to sort this shit out with Jett was making me struggle to focus. Checking the time, I made my way to my own bedroom. Slipping on sneakers and checking my hair was tidy, I quickly brushed it before putting it in a ponytail. A moment later, it was loose again — easier to hide behind. I contemplated lip balm for my dry lips, or would that look like I was desperate . . . or making an effort?
I didn’t want either option to be a possibility, never mind considered. I wanted him to listen to only what I was saying to him.
Hesitating at Mia’s door, I heard her singing her scales, and knowing not to interrupt her, I left the apartment after leaving a note on the breakfast counter.
The walk through the campus was sticky and not entirely pleasant. Halfway to Jett’s house, I ended up scraping my hair off my neck and face, tying it up. My thin T-shirt with a cartoon dog on it and the sloganCoffee . . . because murder is wronghad seemed cute when I picked it to wear this morning. Now it seemed juvenile. My denim shorts were modest, not short shortslike Mia wore. Just normal denim shorts with a woven belt. My white Chucks still needed a good clean.
As I walked, I realized I probably should have made more effort in my appearance. Jett was not used to laid-back and easy-going Ava. He thought I was uptight. Looking down at my scuffed sneakers, I grinned. Well, I would never be accused of being high maintenance.
My feet faltered as I stood off to the side of his house. It was huge. I mean, I knew it was big, I’d been past it before, never really paying attention to it, thinking of it as the “football house,” but now, knowing I had to go up and knock . . . my teeth worried my bottom lip. Maybe I needed Mia after all.
“Is there a reason you’re here?”
Turning swiftly, I looked up at Ash. He was blocking the sunlight, making it hard to see his features. Looking him over, I took in the ripped black jeans and the drop armhole T-shirt with the sloganI’m a Saintsplashed across it.
“Hi,” I greeted.
Ash moved slightly, and I had to turn to avoid the sun, enabling me to see him better. Gone was the friendliness from Monday. Instead, his eyes narrowed in anger. “What do you want?”
Shoving my hands into my back pockets, I rocked back on my feet. “I came to see Jett.”
“He’s busy.”
“It will only take a moment,” I said to him as I looked toward the house.
“He’s still busy.”
“You can tell from being out here?” Yes, that’s right, antagonize them all. This wasn’t helping. “Look, I just need to speak to him for a few moments. There’s been a misunderstanding.”
“Like what?” Ash moved again, and I mirrored his movement until I realized the bastard was now between me and the house. What an effective blocker he was; no wonder they loved him as a tight end. “Tell me, I’ll pass it on.”
“Um . . .”
“You have no idea what you’re going to say for what you’ve done?” Ash looked surprised.
“I really didn’t think of it,” I admitted as I lifted my shoulder in a half-shrug. “I was hoping inspiration would hit me on the way here.”
Ash grunted, but he didn’t move from his spot.
Resignation settled around my shoulders. “You’re not going to let me get to the door, are you?” I asked him.
“My cousin is not someone you want to piss off. At the moment, you’re the number one reason he’s not playing.” Ash folded his considerable-sized arms as he looked down at me. He had to have been a foot taller, or thereabouts, he was so . . . big. Everywhere. “You want to walk in there to meet his wrath for a few moments with no plan and fuck all to say?”
“I could come back another day,” I offered as I realized he was actually doing me a favor.
“You do that,” he said with amusement as he turned and walked away from me. “That’ll be somuch better.”
“Thanks,” I murmured, not knowing if he heard me. Still, I thought that he had just done me a solid. What was I thinking, coming here with no plan? Strategy. Football was a game of it, and I loved strategy. Jett would appreciate a good strategy. If I couldn’t appeal to his human side, I would raise my game tothegame he understood.
With a clearer head than I arrived with, I started walking back to the apartment with a plan.
