been within the last couple of days that the rumors Justin spread around campus have started to die down. The last thing I want is to resurrect them again. Especially, when the gossip would be true.
“I need a little more time.” Guilt slices through me as I drop my voice to a whisper. “That’s all.”
Emotion flares to life in Rowan’s eyes, and for a moment, I steel myself for an argument. I can’t blame him for wanting our relationship out in the open. It’s not like I’m embarrassed to be with him. It’s more the fact that I’m the head coach’s daughter. And these rumors about me screwing the football team always seem to pop up at the most inopportune times. I don’t want people to think that. Rowan doesn’t get to fuck me as some kind of bonus for being the star player. Even the thought makes me sick to my stomach.
“Fine.” As the tension drains from him, his broad shoulders loosen. “I’ve waited this long; it won’t kill me to wait a little longer.”
A burst of relief explodes inside me. I hate that I’m doing this to him, but I’m not ready to out our relationship yet. “Thank you.”
He shrugs as a glimmer of mischief leaps into his eyes. “I’ll let you make it up to me later.”
My brows rise with interest as a smile simmers around the edges of my lips. That’s one thing I like about Rowan—he’s never bent out of shape for long. It’s like a quickly passing summer storm. There and gone before you know it. “And how exactly will I do that?”
“I’m sure you’ll—”
“Hi, Rowan!”
A chorus of soft female voices has me jerking away. I grit my teeth, tired of this happening. We can’t go anywhere without him being bombarded by groupies.
My gaze flies from Rowan to the trio of girls who hover next to us. Two are brunettes, and one is blond. All three are soft and curvy. The dark-haired girls look suspiciously similar. Maybe they’re twins. Although, it’s difficult to tell because they’re all wearing matching T-shirts with sorority letters stamped across their oversized chests and tiny white shorts. Now that I’m scrutinizing them more closely, I realize their hair and makeup look the same. As if there’s a strict dress code that needs to be adhered to, or they’ll get kicked out of their exclusive club.
I wince at the snarky thought. That’s not who I am. I don’t hate other girls for being different. I have my priorities, and they have theirs. Neither is right or wrong.
The lack of sex is definitely getting to me.
“Hey.” Even though Rowan leans back against the chair, he keeps my fingers firmly ensconced in his beneath the table.
They don’t seem to notice. Or maybe they don’t care. Since Rowan has never dated one girl specifically, he’s been claimed as public property. And these chicks...apparently, don’t mind sharing. I, however, am quite territorial. As far as boyfriends are concerned, I don’t play well with others.
In a blatant bid to get his attention, one of the girls tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “We missed you Saturday night at the house.” She inches closer to him. “I thought you were going to stop by.” Her voice drops, becoming low and sultry. “It’s been a while since we partied together.”
My brows rise.
Partied together?
I get the feeling she means something else entirely.
“Yeah, sorry.” Rowan clears his throat. “I was busy.”
This is the downside to dating athletes. They’re usually a hot commodity on campus and have a shit ton of options available to them. When I attempt to pull my hand from his, he squeezes my fingers, refusing to relinquish them.
“Do you girls know Demi?”
I’m treated to a chorus of unenthusiastic greetings before their attention returns to Rowan. In approximately three seconds flat, I’m sized up and found lacking. Quite honestly, these are precisely the type of girls I imagined Rowan spending time with.
I look nothing like them.
They probably consider it sacrilegious to leave their sorority house without being fully made up with every hair in place. Hell, they probably have glam squads. I, on the other hand, consider myself ahead of the game if I’ve thrown my hair up into a ponytail or messy bun. Bonus points if my top matches my bottoms. Which is why I wear a lot of jeans. What doesn’t go with denim?
My thoughts exactly.
“Maybe we’ll see you tomorrow? Sigma Tau is having another bash.” Blondie trails her fingers over his bicep.