“It’s called—never mind. No, it’s not someone different,” I answer.
We haven’t exactly talked about the picture. As long as it doesn’t cause problems, he doesn’t give a fuck what I do. I wasn’t even sure if he was aware of it, but I suppose, with the video out and speculations arising, my post was bound to get roped in. Especially because if I fucked anyone else but the girl in that picture and people found out, my rep would go up in flames.
It’s a damn good thing my dick isn’t interested in anyone else.
“So Reverie,” he says. It’s a statement, not a question.
“Yes.”
“God fucking dammit, Kel. People aren’t going to just let this go. Her father wasjustreleased from prison, and you deciding to let the world know you’re fucking her is one thing, butshowingthe world you’re fucking her is another!”
“Yeah. Yup. I know that,” I snap, growing irritated. I rest my elbow on the door and use my forefinger and thumb to rub my eyes.
He mutters a string of insults beneath his breath while I pinch the bridge of my nose, attempting to combat the headache building in my skull.
With a sigh, I drop my hand and look up, only to find someone standing directly in front of my car with a fucking camera, snapping pictures.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” I hiss, instantly clicking my seat belt on before I do something even more stupid, like get out and knock the fucker’s teeth in. “I got paparazzi in front of my car, Coach. I gotta go. I’ll talk to Jonah and put out a statement soon, I promise.”
I put the car in reverse and quickly pull out of the parking spot,switching to drive. Time to tackle Rev next.
“Yeah, don’t fucking mind me. Once you figure out what the fuck you’re going to say, I’ll be on calls all fucking day tomorrow with the board doing damage control so you’re not disqualified from the next fucking Olympics.” Then, he grumbles, “Fucking dickhole.”
“Thank you. I’m sor?—”
“Get off my fucking phone, Kellan.”
Don’t gotta tell me fucking twice. I hang up, only for a call from Carrie to pop up next.
I groan and spend the rest of the drive to Reverie’s dorm talking it out with her and putting together a statement.
Basically, we got very lucky there are no identifiers in the video. No room number, nothing to prove the girl was even recording in her own room. The video starts and ends with the phone angled toward Rev’s door, and luckily, the buildings are all identical, so there’s no way to distinguish Rev’s from someone else’s down the hall. If the chick had recorded any part of her room, where it might’ve showed her bedding or a decoration on the wall,maybeI could’ve denied it was me fucking her, but it would be impossible for Reverie to deny any involvement.
And I'd rather die than let the world believe anyone else was fucking her.
At this point, it’s my word against hers.
Whoeversheis, which I intend to find out.
Except, the second I round the corner into the hallway toward Rev's dorm, I find her standing outside it, her arms crossed defensively while two girls talk to her.
My heart instantly kicks up a notch, and I’m halfway down the hall when the three notice me.
However, Rev refuses to look at me. A mid-sized bag hangs from her shoulder, which seems to be packed with clothes. I’m guessing she was on her way out when she ran into the girls, and I’d bet the little brat wasn’t on her way to my dorm.
The girls watch me approach with wide eyes, though their stares consistently dart around, as if I’m the sun and they can only stand to look at me in small increments.
One of them has pin-straight black hair flowing down to her plump waist and pale blue eyes with whatever black shit girls put on the bottom of their lashes. The other has thin, curly orange hair piled in amessy bun, a nose slightly too large for her pale face, and is wearing an oversized T-shirt with no pants.
I stop before them, and a tense, awkward silence settles over the four of us. The two girls shift on their feet while Rev stares at them expectantly, arms crossed, silent.
I just watch them, my face set in stone.
“Uh, hi?” the orange-haired girl says finally, though it comes out more like a question than a greeting.
I arch a brow. “Hi.”
A bright red flush blooms at the base of her throat and slowly crawls up toward her cheeks. More silence, until the black-haired girl clears her throat after a few more stilted beats.
