“Last time I saw her she was a fifteen-year-old kid and now she’s…” He blows out a breath. “We have a lot of work to do to repair our relationship; her using my players to hurt me is a complication we don’t need.”
I understand.
What I don’t understand is why I’m feeling strangely protective of her. I know the little kitten can take care of herself—she’s unapologetically vicious. But I also know what it’s like to be young and abandoned by a parent, to be handed over and forgotten. Emery was left to teachers and dorm supervisors to be raised. I was handed over to a stepdad who brought me up with a heavy fist and a bottle of malt liquor.
“We clear?”
I blink down at him seeing him through different eyes. The big intimidating man seems smaller, vulnerable, weak even—testimony to the lovely Emery’s power.
“Yeah, man. Crystal.”
He stands to his full height. “Coach. I’m not your man. Now get your ass back to your team for drills.”
FOUR
Emery
THE SUN IS barely up when I walk into Bean Madness, the campus coffee shop. I don’t have any homework due, but I have to catch a ride with my dad to campus every day so that leaves me two hours before my first class. Usually I’d find a spot in the grass to read or listen to an audiobook, but the sun is coming up later and later and the chill in the early morning has me craving coffee.
“Emery, is that you?”
I turn around to see the redhead I met four days ago. “Rowan, right?”
She’s wearing a Bean Madness apron and has her long hair pulled up and out of her face. “Yeah.” She fidgets with a wet rag she uses, to wipe down tables. “What can I get for you?” She makes her way around the counter to the register.
“Coffee. Black, please.”
She wrinkles her nose. “Black? You sure you don’t want to try a triple fudge brownie mocha? Or a caramel drizzled vanilla latte?”
“Those sound like sundaes, not coffee.”
She laughs and pours me a coffee in the biggest insulted paper cup. She hands me the cup and when I hand her my card, she waves me off. “It’s on the house. Consider it your welcome to Bear State coffee.”
Something warm and wholly unfamiliar expands in my chest.
“Are you enjoying BSU?” She follows me to a nearby table but doesn’t sit.
“So far so good.” If I’m not counting the fact that I can’t get a certain rebel football player’s attention. I admit Theodore’s inked skin, piercings and perma-scowl caught my eye. He would be the perfect partner in my plan to make my dad miserable. I didn’t expect, given the explosive sexual chemistry between us, that he’d play hard to get. “I like my forensics classes.”
“Forensics?”
I sip my coffee. “That surprises you?”
She takes in my tailored oxford shirt, the string of pearls on my neck and the satin scarf tied around my ponytail. “You strike me as a pre-law kind of girl.”
“Nope. I’m mostly interested in how to kill people and get away with it.” I wink, but it doesn’t take away the look of horror in her eyes.
Some people are so easy.
“I’m kidding.”
“I know!” She laughs uncomfortably. “Do you live on campus?”
“I wish.” The inheritance my mom left was enough to pay for ten years of boarding school tuition, but left me with only a few thousand dollars in my bank account and is the reason I’m stuck living with my dad. I need a job so I can save money and get an apartment, which I was surprised to learn is actually cheaper than living on campus. “Is the coffee shop hiring?”
“We have a part time position, nights. It’ll include weekends.”
“That’s fine, I don’t have a social life.” And it’ll get me out of the house so I don’t have to do the awkward dance of silence with my dad at the dinner table every night.
“Have you worked in food and beverage before?”
Heat of embarrassment makes a slow climb up my neck to make camp in my cheeks. “No, actually, I’ve never had a job before.”
“Oh.” She frowns, then shrugs and grins. “No biggie. I’ll train you. It’s not rocket science. I’ll grab you an application.”
I spend the next twenty minutes filling out the application forgoing all the questions about job experience, and adding my years of community service instead, which includes working in the dining hall of a retirement home. I