Page 39 of Hating On Riot

Not willing to miss out on the chance to prove that we jocks have sex on the brain all the fucking time, I look over my shoulder and take in Arie’s blush and the way her attention darts around the field, which is filling up with players, the coaching staff, and the fans.

Three-quarters of the stands fill with coeds hoping to catch one or more of the guys’ attention. They’ll rush the guys after the game, not giving a flying fuck whether they have girlfriends. I shake my head. Girls these days are so fucking forward.

I jog over to Arie. Not this girl. She’s quiet, gives me space when she senses I’m off, and doesn’t demand to know where I’ve been or who I’ve been with. But boy, when she’s after something, she is loud and in my grill, and I fucking love it.

I love that she’s my peace, but also my sounding board and the first to call me out for my bad behavior. Sure, it’s only been four solid days of just us, together, but I have a gut feeling this will be my life. Possibly for life. For life? I smile. Yeah, I can see myself spending the rest of my life with Arie Kim.

After the guys go to their rooms for the night, Arie and I stay up and talk about our day. Hour by hour, she opens up more. Hour by hour, it gets harder for me to keep my hands off her. Little by little, she is taking up more room in my heart and my life.

Extending her grace, showing her mercy, I lighten her load and grab a water barrel from the wagon, hoisting it onto my shoulder. The barrel is heavy, but it’s nothing compared with the metal or wood beams I carry around at my brothers’ construction sites.

“Riot, put it back. It’s too heavy!”

“I can deal, babe.”

She scowls. “You’ll hurt yourself before the game’s begun.”

“You trying to dent my ego or something, beautiful?” I flash her my rows of pearly whites. She ducks her head, but not before I catch a glimpse of her gorgeous smile. “Let’s go!” Laughing, I slow jog to the white table on the other side of the field.

She pulls the wagon of towels, squirt bottles, and two barrels after me. “Why’d we park on the opposite side of the field, anyway?” She scrunches her beautiful face. “No one else from the team parked where we parked.”

“A mistake on my part, sweetheart.”

“Hey, that rhymes.” She catches up to my long strides with her short legs.

“It does, doesn’t it?” I look down as she looks up. Her smile is radiant. The ball cap she wears shields her flawless face from the unforgiving sun.

She’s wearing a different cap. One with the DU logo. Can’t have my girl walking around in a non-descript black cap. The opposing team needs to realize she is DU’s water girl and is fucking off limits.

“Back to where we parked. How could you make a mistake? Doesn’t the home team always set up on the same side, same end of the field?”

“Where’d you hear that gibberish from?” I innocently ask.

“Zeke.”

“When’d you speak to him, and tell me it wasn’t alone?” I’m annoyed more than pissed off. That dude has a reputation, and it’s not a good one.

“Yes, and yesterday, in between classes. I needed access to his room. That Ever might’ve left something in there during one of their parties.” She puffs out a breath. “Long story short, um, Riley might’ve swiped something of his, and I had to discreetly return it.”

What is it with Midnight’s on-again, off-again girl’s habit of borrowing things then having her friends return them?

“Tell me it wasn’t a jockstrap or a pair of his thong underwear.” I stop walking, bend at the waist, and wait for her answer, lips thinned and head cocked.

“It was,” she waves her hand and visibly swallows, “It was an old picture of Asher Tran,” she says in one breath as she looks around the field.

It’s no secret there's sexual tension between those two. “Zeke’s out of hearing range, babe. Probably in the bathroom jacking off to that picture.”

Her eyes widen in horror. Her face turns a pretty shade of crimson. Arie is fucking adorable. I press a kiss to her forehead. Prim. Proper. So responsive when she’s embarrassed or horrified.

“LOL. JK.” I smile. She doesn’t smile back. She glowers.

“This is not the time for short speak, Riot,” she whisper-yells. “What if Zeke had been behind us? He doesn’t know Riley stole the picture from his room. Doesn’t know she went through the stash of his old high school yearbooks.”

“That’s a Midnight problem, and believe me, one word from him, and Zeke will keep his trap about Riley’s habit shut. As for you, please, please, please, don’t ever be alone with Zeke again. He has the hashtag OneandDone for a reason. That bastard’s randy as fuck, and all he has to do is touch you, and you become his next hashtag. You get me, baby?”

In case she doesn’t understand, I make it perfectly clear. “You are mine. Next time, get me to return the items.”

“She’s my friend,” she mutters, avoiding my eyes. Doing Riley a favor made her uncomfortable, and I don't like it when something makes Arie uncomfortable.