My mood darkens when I find out she’s working with Archer Boyd. He’s a great match for her. Smart, driven and kind.
Damn it, I hope he’s not interested. I don’t want any more competition for her. Chase is salivating wanting to take another shot at her, Wren is circling like a vulture but I know she doesn’t want either of them. Now Archer will be in the mix and he’s is worse than the other two because he could have a shot with her.
She tells me that the weasel took issue with her not coming home with him; I bet he did. That little fucker has been battling me every step of the way. Fucking Wren Morris.
The positive thing about her staying on campus is I know I’ll get to see her when we get back.
“I had a bad game, the coach got on my shit. I don’t like you being alone for Christmas.”
“It’s just another day, Kohl. I’m sorry you had a bad game. Anything I can do to make it better?”
I wish I could tell her how much I would love for her to fuck my stress right out of me. For her to rub her lush tits all over my body, how I’m dying to taste every inch of her skin. “I can think of a few things you could do to make it better,” I joke, but there is truth hiding in each word.
“Always with the sex, Kohl. Do you ever think about anything else?” she says but I can hear hurt in her voice. I always joke with her about sex, it’s one of our things. It also consumes my brain every time I smell her fruity cucumber scent. I can’t even look at a piece of fruit without getting hard as stone remembering her aroma.
“What’s wrong, Tennie Girl? You know I’m only teasing. I love to see your adorable face turn red.”
“I gotta go. Will I see you when you get back before you head home?” she asks.
She’s cutting me short, I can hear something in her voice. She sounds hurt and I know she would tell me if someone else had done something. That leaves only one option. Damn it, what have I done now?
“Yes, Ten. I’ll stop by when I get back to campus. Bye, pretty girl.”
“Bye Kohl”
Now I have six hours to ride this damn bus wondering what I’ve done to hurt her.
Chapter Twelve
How do I spell relief? T-E-N-S-A-N-N-E
—Kohl’s inner thoughts
Tensanne
BAM, BAM, BAM, what the fuck is that?
Who the hell is at my door at? Slipping on my glasses I check the time on my phone, 2:00 a.m.
“Open the door, Ten,” comes across my phone from Kohl.
Opening the door, I see an exhausted Kohl, holding his team duffle bag. His arms braced on the door frame, his head hanging low.
Butterflies fill my belly. He came here straight from the bus. I didn’t figure I would see him until in the morning.
“Kohl,” I whisper, raising his head, his eyes a stormy gray, he pulls me forward engulfing me in his arms burying his nose in my hair.
“What did I do, baby girl? Why are you angry at me?” he mumbles into my neck, the vibration and heat of his breath sending chills along my skin, his succulent scent fills my nose.
Pulling back from him, “Nothing, I was just being stupid. Why are you here? Why didn’t you go back to the dorm and get some sleep? You look like shit,” I laugh.
Stepping through the door, he drops his bag and flops back on my twin bed, “I couldn’t go to sleep with you mad at me. That was the longest six-hour ride of my life, thinking that I may have lost you as a friend.”
Standing at the foot of the bed, admiring how perfect his body is sprawled out in my space, surrounded by my things, I reassure him, “You haven’t lost me. Wren said something that pissed me off, something I have no right to be angry for and I let it eat at me. I know it was stupid and I’m sorry I made you worry.”
Sitting up on his elbows, his face etched in concern, he pats the bed, “Come sit with me.”
He waits for me to situate myself on the edge of the bed, then he asks, “What did he say?”
Picking at my nails, I can’t look him in the face. I feel foolish for being angry. “Something about you and a blonde at the after-game party last weekend, and the fact that we’re never together at the parties or out anywhere else off campus. But were not a couple, were friends and we do what friends do.”
“Ten, you won’t go to the parties with me. Hell, I’ve been trying to get you in the stands for a home game since the season started. I don’t know what blonde he was talking about but I promise you I wasn’t with anyone,” he says twirling a piece of my hair between his fingers.
“You’re right, though; you don’t have a reason to be angry if I was. You know we don’t go anywhere because you insist we don’t have time.” Cupping his hand against my cheek, he continues, “You’re angry with me for stipulations that you put on us. Come here and lay down with me,” he says patting his chest and scooting his body against the wall to make room for me,
