On the Sideline (BSU Football #3) - J.B. Salsbury Page 0,43
shoulders seem to have swelled. Kaipo stands next to him looking confused and protective.
“Sisterhood is loyalty and commitment to serving others.” I clear the shakiness from my voice. “Sisterhood is leading by example, with compassion and grace. Sisterhood is honesty, transparency, and unselfish drive. Confidence tempered with humility is…” I stare at the faces around me, some looking on apologetically and others with a kind of fascination.
“Have you forgotten the final bit?” Riley says from behind me.
“No.”
“Say it then.”
“…is the spirit of a true…” I suck in a breath. “Eta Pi sister.”
The first whipped cream pie comes from my back and slams me in the face. I’m blinded to see where the rest come from, but I feel them knock me in the head. One after another I try to protect my face, but the whipped cream fills my ears and, and drips down my shoulders. Blinded, confused and humiliated, I don’t know what’s happening until I hear the muffled sound of over one hundred of my peers as they explode in hoots, hollers and laughter and only then do I feel the kiss of a breeze against my panties. Someone flipped my dress up.
I struggle to protect myself against the incoming pies while simultaneously pushing at my skirt when suddenly I’m off my feet. His strong grip is unmistakable and I bury my cream and crust covered face into his throat as the first wave of sobs rip through me. “Please, get me out of here.”
Loren growls a string of violent curse words. “Grab the keys from the valet and I’ll meet you at my truck.” I assume he’s speaking to Kaipo and then we’re moving.
His heavy footfalls are soundless against the concrete and grass as he carries me off the patio and through the lawn to the parking lot. My tears manage to clear out my eyes a little but I don’t dare look anywhere but at his neck as he weaves through cars.
The tweet of a key fob blares and the sound of dress shoes jogging on asphalt gets louder just before Kaipo says, “I’ll get the door.”
Loren slides into the passenger seat of his truck with me in his arms and Kaipo gets behind the wheel. The uncontrollable sobs continue and he rubs my back soothingly, reassuring me that we’re gone, and tells me I never have to go back there again.
If it were only that easy.
Kaipo stays quiet, but a simmering rage rolls off of him.
I sit up a little and look down at the mess I made on Loren’s shirt and silk tie. “I’m so sorry about your clothes.”
He rips at his necktie to slip it off and then uses it to dab at my whipped cream tears. “I don’t give a fuck about my clothes.” He sounds angry and looks angrier, but his touch is gentle and his eyes warm.
The truck comes to a halt outside Loren and Kaipo’s house. Loren pops open the door and I move to crawl out, but he locks his arms around me again and carries me from the car to the front door.
“I can walk.”
“I know you can.” He sniffs and holds me tighter. “I’m just having a hard time letting you go.”
I wiggle out of his hold and put my feet on the front porch sending a sheet of whipped cream and crust to the ground. I’m about to apologize and tell him I’ll clean it up when he wraps his massive arm around my lower back and ushers me inside. I try to keep hold of the mess on my body so it doesn’t spread to his floors while he guides me up the stairs to the bathroom.
He sits me on the toilet seat and kneels in front of me. Kaipo hands him a wet washcloth and he wipes my face, meticulously dabs at my eyes, nose, and mouth. “This shit needs to be reported.” He folds the washcloth and starts back at my hairline. “You’re shaking,” he whispers with a mix of anger and sadness.
“Just put her in the shower, cuz.” Kaipo grabs the handle to close the door.
Loren only nods, his jaw tight, and his eyes even tighter. “Stand up, babe.”
“You don’t have to do this.”
He blows out a breath and shakes his head. “Stand up.”
I stand and am grateful to give him my back so he can’t see the embarrassment flaming on my face as he unzips my dress and it drops to the floor. He kneels behind me to unbuckle the