She helped that kid by showing up and making things easier for someone who needed it.
Watching her makes me feel stupid for every half-assed move I’ve made on her just to win that stupid bet with Jace.
I should fucking walk away, but I keep lingering.
Seeing her help that kid made it clear.I can’t ignore it anymore after seeing that.
She deserves better than this asshole version of me.
Chapter 11
Sam
Idon’tknowwhyIagreed to meet him here.
Every step toward Reece Wilson’s house feels wrong, like I’m walking straight into a bad decision with my eyes wide open and my pride duct-taped to my mouth.The path crunches under my shoes, each step sounding louder than it should be, as if the universe is narrating my stupidity in real time.
I tell myself it’s about the assessment.The marks I need and not letting him derail my future just because he treats school like a joke and girls like a hobby.
If he pulls another smart-ass stunt or answers the door shirtless again, I swear I will lose it loudly and in a way the neighbors will remember for years.
I pause at the door and knock.One steady, confident knock.
The door opens.
And there he is.
Not shirtless.Not smirking as if he planned this moment in advance.He leans against the frame, shoulders relaxed, hair messy in a way that should be illegal, with that infuriating calm locked into place.His mouth curves into a half-smile that hits straight at places it has no right hitting.
“Hey, Red,” he says.
The nickname hits softer than it should.I square my shoulders anyway, because I might be standing on the doorstep of a terrible decision, but I won’t let him see that I’m affected.
My eyes flick to his face before I can stop myself.
There’s a fresh split along his cheekbone.A thin red line cuts across skin that shouldn’t look that good up close.It’s small.Nothing dramatic.
“What happened to your face?”I ask, the question slipping out before I remember I’m supposed to be annoyed.Or guarded.Or smart enough to turn around and leave.
His smile tilts.“Football.”
“You’re playing again?”I ask.
I heard the whispers back when he quit.The way people talked about it in the hallways was like it was gossip instead of something that clearly wrecked him.I saw it too.The way he stopped looking like someone who knew where he was going and started looking like someone killing time instead.
I never asked why he quit.It never felt like my place.Plus, we didn’t really talk, not that we do now.
He doesn’t answer my question, just steps back, opens the door wider, wordlessly inviting me in.
I hesitate for half a second before I walk past him.
The house is quieter than before.No blaring music or chaos spilling out of every room.No sense that I’ve just wandered into a frat house with worse impulse control.It seems almost...normal.
That alone makes me nervous.
I move down the hallway, shoulders tight, already bracing myself for the comments I got last time.The sly swagger that usually rolls off him with every breath.The jokes about me being a good girl that are loud enough to stick under my skin and stay there.
They never come.
