The Revenge Pact (Kings of Football #1) - Ilsa Madden-Mills Page 0,76

with a flick of her hair.

After a little harrumph, Sissy walks off, her spine straight.

“Why are you laughing?” Anastasia says, eyeing me. “She was flirting with you. I saved you from further flirting, although I bet she slips you her phone number.”

She’s jealous.

I lean in, elbows on the table. “What color is your hair underneath that lavender?”

She props her elbows on the table as well, mimicking me. “Black like my mom’s. It takes bleach and a great stylist to get this pastel hue. Like it?”

Love it.

“It’s alright.” The color suits her.

She gives me a half-grin. “You think Sissy will spit in my Coke?”

“Nah. You can drink my water if you want. We’ll switch.”

A sheepish smile crosses her face. “Maybe I was rude? It’s just…she touched you.”

I dip my head to hide my smile. “When you have a public image, people don’t have boundaries.” Random fans do swarm, but I don’t let myself get caught up in the hype. Football has never been about the attention; it’s about the game, the feel of that pigskin in my hands. It makes me feel powerful, the one thing I’m good at.

Afterward, we order pizza. Turns out we like the same kind: pepperoni and cheese only. Honestly, the food tastes like cardboard, but neither of us comment on it. We can’t stop talking. She puts in a to-go order for June that she’s going to pick up on our way out.

She pushes her plate to the side and sets a small rectangular box on the table.

“What’s this?” I ask.

Pink rises up her face. “Nothing much. I mean, I saw it in the bookstore today and thought you’d like it.”

“Oh.”

“Don’t get your hopes up. It’s not like, a diamond tennis bracelet or anything.”

I laugh.

She inches it toward me. “Go on. It won’t bite.”

I take the box, my fingers lingering over the notebook paper she wrapped it in. For River is printed in large letters. I untie the little ribbon, open the box, then glance up at her animated expression.

“Tada! It’s a pencil!” she exclaims, as if it’s a million dollars.

“Thank you.”

She cocks her head. “It’s not just a pencil. It has a unicorn head as an eraser—with sparkles in its mane. I looked for a pen, but all they had were just the regular kind…”

Oh, I get it. It makes my heart skip.

She looks down. “Is it silly that I remember you dropping your pen that night?”

“No.” I take it out of the box and gaze down at it. “A little piece of magic, which I actually really need right now. Thank you.”

She clears her throat. “Ah, yeah. We both need it, right? Neither of us have a clue what’s next. ‘We still have time to be what we want to be,’ remember?”

“The Outsiders.”

“I want to fight for people who can’t fight for themselves. You want to wow people with football. And you will.” She smiles, then fidgets. “You’re staring.”

Because you believe in me.

Because you’re beautiful.

She’s the center of a hurricane, a calm that lulls you, then makes your world fucking amazing.

“I have to tell you something,” I say.

She leans in. “Yeah?”

I tap my fingers on the table. “About the ski thing… I’m only staying one night. You wanted me to help with your”—I wince—“revenge, but it looks like I won’t be able to do much.”

“Your mom?” she asks.

I nod. “Yeah. Um, my sister… I called her today. She’s engaged to Jagger, this really great guy. They had a big wedding planned for this spring, but, ah, after we talked, she thinks they should move it up and have it on the 23rd at our house. They’re leaving for their honeymoon soon after…” I stare down at the table. “Mom got bad news today, and my sister is worried that by the time May gets here, she may not be around…” I stop and take a breath. “Anyway, and all of this is happening kind of fast, like Rae is literally planning it right now, and I need to be around. Get a tux or flowers or call people or whatever my sister wants. She says she’s got it under control, but I know she needs me…” I look up. “I really want to be there and help out. I promised my dad I’d be good to her, you know? My mom will flip if I don’t ski at least once, so I will, but then…” I need to see her.

Her hand takes mine, her eyes soft. “Of course, River. Be with your family. Nothing