“Go to sleep, Slater,” I murmured, turning over, my ribs protesting. “I’ll explain when I know what they’re going to hit me with tomorrow.”
“You’re a dick,” he grumbled. “You get kicked out, and I have to do next season with the second-team QB. That’s going to fuck up my Draft chances, and yours. What were you thinking, Dante?”
“They won’t kick me out,” I told him, tiredly, and I heard him mumbling as he left the room and went to his own.
I lay awake for a long time.
Chapter 15
Savannah
I woke up with the taste of regret on my tongue.
Not because of anything I’d actually done, but because of what Ihadn’t. One little text message, sent in a moment of reckless courage, had left me staring at my phone like it was a live grenade.You still awake?Three words that could’ve cracked something wide open between us.
What did I do when he answered? When he said yes, when the opportunity was right there, dangling in front of me? When I could have so easily got what we both wanted if I’d just had the courage to say it.
Instead, I panicked. I chickened out. I backed down like a coward and told him I hadn’t sent him the next week’s reading list.
Smooth, Savannah.Truly smooth. Nothing beats giving the star quarterback a pile of boring reading assignments to say I’m definitely not thinking about what it would feel like to kiss you right now.
I bet he was a good kisser. He seemed to excel at everything he did, and I doubt he was sloppy in the kissing department. I let my mind wander to what I might do sloppily for him. Gone were my unkind thoughts of him being shitty in bed. He had too much confidence to do something badly.
Ireallywanted him in my bed.
But the fantasy quickly vanished and was replaced by reality when my alarm clock went off. Reality was Sunday brunch at Halston’s Country Club, a constant display of polite smiles and stiff-backed posture while Dad reminded everyone nearby that I was on track to follow in his footsteps, whether I liked it ornot. Though that last part was never said. Or probably even considered by my father at all.
I rolled out of bed with a groan and walked toward the closet. My hands automatically reached for a kind of dress Dad would approve of. In the shower, I spent the entire time trying not to picture Dante’s smile if he knew how hard I was trying not to think about him. While thinking about him. God, I was a lost cause.
My dress was a cream tweed shift, perfect for this time of year, and I paired it with low-heeled nude shoes. I was ready for the country club. I added a light cream three-quarter-sleeve cardigan over it to cover my bare arms. The whole outfit was perfectly suffocating.
Halston’s Country Club reeked of money and eggs Benedict. Dim lighting shimmered overhead, polished silver gleamed on white tablecloths, and every conversation sounded rehearsed.
The brunch spread was as stiff and starchy as the company. I slipped into the chair beside my father, smoothed the skirt of my pale dress, and maintained my polite smile. The one that said,Yes, I am listening, even when I wasn’t.
Because the whole time the table droned on about a charity luncheon, or an upcoming fundraiser, or Chuck Harrington leaned back in his chair to remind everyone that football builds character — while his wife ignored the way his eyes strayed toward the waitress — I was regretting not answeringyouwhen Dante had asked me what I needed.
“Savannah,” my father’s voice snapped me back.
I blinked, realizing too late the question had been aimed at me. “Sorry?”
The woman across from me’s lips curved in a prim smile. “I asked how your tutoring was going. I hear you’re working with one of the athletes. That must be...rewarding.”
The way she said ‘rewarding’ made it sound like I was ladling soup at a shelter. I forced a smile, careful and measured. “It’s going fine.” I speared a strawberry just to keep my hands busy.
“Which player was it again?” she pressed, and I felt my father’s gaze sharpen beside me.
My pulse faltered. I couldn’t lie — not outright — but I also couldn’t give them Dante. Not again, not like this. He was mine, and no one else would get to know what passed between us, not even if it was only sharp words and stolen glances.
“Just someone from the football team,” I said casually, swallowing my fruit and reaching for my glass of water before anyone could press further.
She hummed, visibly unsatisfied, but then shifted her focus to the man beside her, starting to tell a story about their vacation home.
I exhaled slowly, feeling my father’s considering look like a weight on my shoulder.
I moved my fork through the eggs on my plate, but all I could think about was the fact that Dante hadn’t replied to me. No sarcastic comeback about the reading list.
“So, Dean Cole, what are you going to do about last night?” someone farther down the table asked.
