On the Sideline (BSU Football #3) - J.B. Salsbury Page 0,26

and hope to God my little episode doesn’t throw Ro and Emery off their conversation.

“I’ll call her later and see how it went,” Rowan says.

“Who are you guys talking about,” Carey says and I could hug him for asking.

“Bex.”

Her name brings back the feel of her bare skin under my palm when I touched her leg, the scent of all that hair when the breeze blew it across her face. I wanted to kiss her so badly. Fucking garlic. I stare down at my meal. “Is there garlic in this?”

Rowan shakes her head. “No.”

Phew! I know I promised I’d go to the formal with Riley, but I don’t think I’m going to be able to wait six more days to kiss Bex.

And I need to get more information about this Evan guy. Will she take him to the formal? While I’m tolerating Riley in my arms on the dance floor, counting down the seconds until I get to be with Bex, will I also have to tolerate watching her in another man’s arms?

I push my food away, having lost my appetite. What is happening to me? I’m not usually this obsessive about women.

“Are you okay?” Rowan asks. “You look like you’re going to hurl.”

“I like Bex,” I blurt.

Like I hit pause on a movie, everyone at the table stops, and I hear silverware hit a couple plates. I don’t need to have a sixth sense to read the unspoken energy from my roommates, so I answer the question they’re all asking.

“I’m kind of seeing Riley.”

Emery emits hostility so fiercely it raises goosebumps on my left arm closest to her.

“It’s not like I wanted this, it just happened.”

A frigid wave of anger wafts toward me from Emery and I refuse to look her in the eye. The woman is a Marsha Brady shell with a Morticia Adams soul.

“Does she know?” Rowan says.

Carey throws a protective arm over his woman, but his eyes dance with humor as if he can’t wait to hear my response.

“Yes, but she made me promise to keep seeing Riley because of that stupid sorority formal. So I have to figure out a way to avoid Riley until the dance because she’s always kissing me and…” I heave out a sigh. “She’s expecting sex.” I shake my head. God, I sound like such a pussy.

“Can’t you just tell Riley you’re not interested in her in that way?” Rowan says.

“Yes, I want to, but Bex thinks it would be a dick move to dump her days before this big formal, since she’s the President and hosting the stupid thing.” I put my head in my hands and grip my hair. “I don’t know what to do. I’m confused, I mean, Riley is gorgeous, and sexy… I’d be stupid to not want to be with her.” When I look up I find Rowan, sweet Rowan, glaring at me. And the vibes from Emery, who I still refuse to make eye contact with, have gone from chilly to deadly. “I shouldn’t have brought this up. It’ll work itself out.” I grab my plate and water glass. “Thanks again for dinner, it was really great.” I scurry out of the dining room and get started on cleaning the kitchen, another habit from childhood. You cook or clean, you don’t do both.

Whispers come from the dining room, but I’m grateful I can’t hear what my roommates are saying about me so I don’t even try to eavesdrop. I’m scrubbing out the mashed potatoes pot when they filter into the kitchen, silently dropping off their dishes. I avoid their eyes after my confession. The guys seem to understand my dilemma, offering me silent support, but the women seem unconvinced of my intentions with Bex.

I don’t really blame them.

I leave the remainder of the cleaning to Kaipo and the boys and head up to my room. I sit at the edge of my bed and hit Bex’s phone number.

“Hello?” She sounds cautious, but happy. Is she happy because of Evan?

“Bex, it’s Loren.” I, on the other hand, sound accusatory. I try to breathe deep and find my chill, but the thought of Bex giving some fucking guy the pleasure of her smiles, her laughter, her lips, makes me murderous.

“Oh, hey, what are you doing calling me?”

Ex-fucking-scuse-me? “How quickly you forget last night—”

“I didn’t forget—”

“You gave me your number.”

“Yeah, but I figured you’d text me. Calling is for emergencies or, like, grandparents.”

This woman makes me feel like a fumbling fourteen-year-old with his first crush. “This is