I Hate You - Ilsa Madden-Mills Page 0,6

I lick my lips and pat my hair, smoothing my dress with my hands. Dang—it’s still soaked.

He halts in front of us.

3

I walk into Cadillac’s like the conquering hero Julius Caesar after he defeated the Gauls, or maybe a gladiator entering the Colosseum after a victorious showing in the games.

Did gladiators go out for a beer after the games? No doubt they did. They probably had hot girls with them too.

Applause breaks out and I flash a big smile, taking in the adulation. The cheers of congratulations continue as we make our way around the room, and a warm feeling grows in my chest. Attention from fans, a football in my hands—it’s all I’ve ever needed.

I started playing rec league when I was twelve—late for the superstar I am—because my aunt and uncle needed a babysitter for me and the field was just down the road from our house. Convenient for them to get me out of their hair, and a good way for me to channel my restless energy.

“Blaze! Great game!” shouts a guy I remember from class last semester.

I wave.

“Dude, this place is packed,” Dillon says. He’s got that glazed-over, I’m-going-to-party-till-I’m-trashed look in his eye as he takes everything in. Tall and muscular with a freshly shaved head—he promised he’d shave off his blond dreadlocks if we won the championship—he’s originally a California surfer boy who moved to Alabama when he was ten just to play football in the South, a rich kid. We came from completely different backgrounds, but he’s the closest thing I have to a brother.

I grin. “Wish Mav and Ryker were here. Losers.”

“Yeah, well, they’re getting some girlfriend action right now. Their player days are over.”

True. Maverick practically bolted off the bus and ran straight into Delaney’s arms as she waited for him in the parking lot, and Ryker was pretty much the same. He didn’t even say goodbye before peeling out to go to Penelope’s.

Dillon grins at a pretty, brunette co-ed who rushes up and throws her arms around his big frame.

The athletes run this small, exclusive university, and football really is king. I roll my shoulders. I’d do well to remember that. No matter my family and scholastic shortcomings, this year is mine.

At the end of the big game, I started doing the Miss America wave for the fans, and the crowd in the bar goes nuts when I whip it out. I’m feeling good, then my eyes sweep the room and land on a table near the front.

Charisma.

I freeze.

I haven’t seen her—even in passing—for months, and the effect is like a bucket of cold water in my face.

She flips me off, and I feel red starting at my neck and rising up to my face. Something about her always…always…

“You good?” Dillon asks me, his gaze following mine.

“Fresh as a goddamn daisy.”

“Charisma is over there.”

“Thanks, Captain Obvious.”

His eyes check her out. “Can’t blame you, man. She’s not my usual, but I’d tap it. I tried sophomore year. She turned me down cold, said I was too popular. Weird.”

“Don’t even think about her like that.” I frown. “And why didn’t you ever tell me?”

“Didn’t seem important. You were only with her for a hot second.”

“It is important. And it was three weeks. Stay away from her.”

His lips kick up. “Didn’t think you cared, dude.”

“I don’t. I’ve moved on.”

“Then why can’t I even talk about her—”

“No,” I snap. “End of.”

“Fine, chill out.” He eyeballs Dani and Candi chatting with their sorority sisters as they hang on to me. “You’re winning if it’s a competition. You have two and she has none.”

“It isn’t a pissing contest.”

I can’t help but stare in her direction. Jealousy pulls at me when I see how some of the guys with Connor are giving Charisma little glances. With long nearly black hair that has pale pink streaks scattered throughout, she’s a petite thing but feisty as a colt. I take in the creamy pale skin, intelligent light brown eyes that don’t miss a thing, and that perfect pink bow of a mouth. Yeah, she got under my skin so fucking bad last semester I thought I was going to lose my mind—until I cut her loose.

A beer gets pushed into my hands by Dani, and I lean down to give her a quick kiss on the cheek. “Thanks.”

“I’ve missed you,” she murmurs, her hand caressing my jaw.

I pull back before she can take it any further. “Yeah. Time to party,” I say.

Maybe five minutes pass, and when a break appears