“Even in the offseason, people will get grumpy if you injure the star quarterback.”
She looked up at me, her eyes wide with surprise. Her hand was still in her bag, and her mouth was open like she was truly shocked I was speaking to her.
On a partly cloudy February afternoon, I realized something I hadn’t properly registered before.
She was more than pretty — pretty was an overused word, too small for what she was. Sunlight seemed to have been invented just to catch in her hair, every pale-gold strand bright enough to burn if you looked too long. Her eyes were a warm blue — calm on the surface, but I knew a storm was brewing beneath that warmth. Her skin was a smooth, golden tan, the perfect kind of effortless beauty people paid stylists and photographers to fake.
I ran my eyes over her smart blazer, soft-knit crew neck sweater, and black jeans.
“Dante?” Her gaze flicked past me and back, her brow furrowing slightly.
“Savannah?” I smiled at her reaction; she looked so confused. “You look surprised.”
“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked me suspiciously.
“First time I’ve seen you in daylight.”
Savannah blushed as someone passing us let out a low chuckle and misinterpreted what I meant.
“How can you make that sound sordid?” she grumbled as she closed her bag, her hand hovering over the opening almost... protectively.
I leaned in toward her, amused when she automatically leaned back. “Do I make you nervous, Sav?”
She made a choking noise and then cleared her throat. “You have a very big ego, Dante Spence.” She stepped around me and resumed walking.
It was the opposite direction I was heading, but she was one of the lighter moments I’d had today, and I needed to know what she heard last night, if she heard anything. She wasn’t acting differently. That was a good sign, right?
She glared at me as I kept pace beside her. “Why are you walking this way?”
“I wanted to apologize for last night,” I said smoothly. “I’d had a tough practice session, my shoulder needed an ice pack, and I was—”
“An ass.”
I held back my smile. “I was going to say not my charming self.”
“That’s what I said,” she said plainly. “An ass.”
“To-may-to, to-ma-to.”
We walked a few more feet before she stopped. “Seriously, what do you want?”
You, naked on my bed.The thought startled me and broke my concentration.
“Dante!”
Her insistent tone snapped me out of my internal floundering. “Savannah!” I paused. “Wait, we did this whole conversation just a minute ago, no?”
She looked down at her boots. “Oh my God, you’re freaking infuriating,” she muttered. She looked back up at me. “Dante,whatdo you want?”
“I told you. I wanted to apologize for last night.” I looked around us, pretending to be confused. “Wait, did we just experience some kind of weird déjà vu?”
If I didn’t know better, I’d have said my Education Policy and Governance tutor was swearing under her breath.
“Dante, Mr. Superstar Quarterback,” she said, giving me that fake smile. “I have somewhere I need to be. Can I help you? Or, can I go?”
I placed a hand over my heart. “Aww, you think I’m a superstar?”
Her eyes narrowed. “I’m going to hurt you, Spence.”
