Kiss To Forget (Blairwood University #2) - Anna B. Doe Page 0,13

in a breath, finally realizing that at any moment, he could turn around and see me lurking in the shadows, listening to his conversation.

Fuck, I have to get out of here.

Turning on the balls of my feet, I start to get away but the floorboard creaks. I cringe, my whole body going still.

Maybe he didn’t hear it. Maybe…

“What the fuck?”

Of course he heard, because why would it be any different? My body startles from the harshness of his words. His tone is the complete opposite of the tone he used when he talked to the girl on the phone. Which if you think about it is pretty fucked up. Why cheat on her if you obviously care about her? I’ll never understand guys.

“Who’s…” Nixon trails off.

There is a shift in the air, and even without looking, I know that he’s turned toward me and is watching my back. I can feel his laser gaze boring into my spine.

Tilting my head back, I curse myself for not leaving as soon as I realized I’m not alone. There wasn’t a reason for me to stay behind and listen in on his conversation. None at all. Yet, for some reason, my body didn’t want to go.

Knowing there is no escaping it, I sigh and turn around to face him.

“Yasmin,” he breathes as he sees me. But not a second passes before his face turns grim, his body stiffening.

“Nixon,” I say in the way of greeting. I’m not going to cower since I did nothing wrong.

Keep telling yourself that.

“What are you doing here?”

“Using the bathroom.” I throw my finger over my shoulder to point at the closed door. “Callie showed it to me once, and it was crowded downstairs.”

His eyes narrow, assessing me. “And you just decided to stay and listen to my conversation?”

“I wasn’t listening in on anything.” I cross my arms over my chest, tilting my chin up. There is no way I’m letting him pin this on me. If he wanted to keep this conversation secret, he should have gone to his room. Asshole. “I was surprised to find you here since I wasn’t expecting anybody.”

“Well, it is my house.”

“I know that very well.” It’s hard to forget it when people are chanting his name like he found the cure for cancer.

“And yet you still decided to come here.” He tilts his head to the side as if thinking. “I thought you didn’t want anything to do with me?”

I grit my teeth. “It wasn’t exactly my choice, okay?”

“Oh, really?”

“Yes, really. If you forgot, our best friends are in a relationship.” I glare at him pointedly. “Not like you know anything about that, now do you?”

I’m so pissed, and I don’t even know why. I shouldn’t care one bit if Nixon is or isn’t dating some poor soul and fucking everything that has a vagina behind her back, but I can’t seem to get it out of my mind.

I love you too.

What kind of a woman would get those words out of mighty Nixon Cole? Does it even matter? Because, quite clearly, they’re just plain words. And those mean jack shit if not backed up by actions.

“And you do?” Nixon shakes his head, chuckling as he walks closer. So close that I notice that his jersey is clinging to his broad shoulders, and his hair is still damp and disheveled. From his own fingers, or did some groupie run them over his golden-brown strands? “Tell me, Yasmin, is it just players you’re not interested in, or does that extend to coaches too?”

What the hell?

I step back, my body colliding with the wall.

“What are you talking about?”

“Oh please, don’t play innocent.” Nixon laughs, but the sound lacks humor. “I saw you. For all your talk about how you’re not interested in athletes, you don’t seem to have a problem sleeping with Coach. Is that what does it for you? Old guys like him?”

I react before I can think of it, my hand shooting forward and slapping him across the face.

His head jerks to the side from the impact, a splotch of red covering his cheek.

Nixon licks his lip and slowly turns back to look at me. His light eyes, stormy and hard as stone, pin me in place. A red print colors his cheek; it’s so bright I can see it even in the dim light of the hallway.

My hand stings from the impact. I clench my fingers a few times, working through the pain. My heart is racing from the adrenaline, my