Chapter 8: First Meet Foul: Chapter 8

What am I doing?

Why aren’t I studying?

Why am I not at home, in bed, doing my routine?

My brain shouted the questions at me, loudly, and there was only a moment’s hesitation because Lorelei’s crumpled face became more important. Fixing those frown lines and the worry behind her gaze, the deflating of her shoulders and slight lip trembling she couldn’t hide from me.

How could the girl of my dreams be this sad from a prick like Eric?

The bar music thumped around us, and the smell of stale beer and fried food invaded my nostrils. It made me nauseous.

“Where are we going?” Lorelei asked, her voice small and unsure. Her fingers, intertwined with mine, tensed, and it was a reminder that we held hands. A part of me liked this, reminding me of a time back in high school where I allowed myself to have a girlfriend. It was fun to have a partner, someone to have your back. Plus, I enjoyed how small Lo’s hand was in mine.

After the two of them got one of their cards signed for the drink to complete the twenty-drink requirement to earn the T-shirt, we walked Mack home. Her friend eyed me the entire time, but I knew what Lorelei needed.

Once we got to Mack’s place, the two of them whispered and hugged. Mack glared at me for a beat before going inside. Now, it was just Lorelei and me. Without thinking, I held out my hand for her to take again, and she intertwined our fingers.

I could fix the ways I’d fouled up our initial meeting while helping her release some of the anger directed at that fuck face Eric.

A ripple of electricity danced along my skin up my forearm and to my neck, goose bumps bursting out from her touch. It was magnetic and bewitching. Wonderful and terrifying.

“We’re going to a field.”

“To murder me? Why would we go to a field?”

“Because.” I shook my head, my face heating. Because? What a silly answer. It mollified her though. She remained quiet as we walked back toward the football house. A few people passed us on the path, nodding their head at me before glancing at Lorelei. There was curiosity in their gazes, but if Lorelei noticed, she gave nothing away.

I glanced at her, my attention stuck on her full, pillow lips currently pursed as her eyes stared into the distance. She had to be lost in thought, and I was dying to know about what.

Eric? Did she miss him?

Why do you care?

I cleared my throat, a sudden flicker of nerves twisting in my gut. What if Dean saw us holding hands? How could I possibly explain this for it to make sense? I let go of her, hating the cold left from the loss of her touch.

If he didn’t know the full story about what Eric did, then I could tell him. That’d explain everything, why I held her hand and wanted to help her out. Yes. That was the perfect excuse. Relief settled the tension in my shoulders, and I almost smiled.

I could spend time with her right now and not feel guilty.

She sucked in a breath, crossed her arms, and narrowed her eyes, all while not looking at me.

She chewed her bottom lip, and I’d give anything to bite down on it and taste her.

No. Nothing more than one-night stands.

This had to be the last night I could do this, hang out with her and inhale her perfume and feel her skin on mine. It confused my goals and thoughts and tempted me to say fuck it to my entire plan just to kiss her.

But that was assuming she’d even want to and if I would risk everything with Dean. Regardless of the status of kissing her, I spent too much time worrying and thinking about her for this night to ever repeat itself, so if I only had tonight… then I planned on making it memorable.

We approached the house in silence, her soft footsteps the only noise she made. Her usual chatterbox self was buried inside her, and I wanted that back.

I gently put my hand at the base of her back, waiting for her to stare up at me. She did, and it was a sucker punch to the gut. Wide eyes, nose dusted with freckles, and an earnest, curious look on her face.

“Give me two minutes, I’ll be right back.”

“What are you doing?” She frowned.

“Grabbing something real quick.” I jogged toward the front door, used my key to get in, and I found what I needed in the hall closet. It had been a while since any one of us had used it, but I knew it was the right move when I held out the soccer ball and bounced it on my knee.

“No,” she said, her eyes widening. “What is this?”

“We’re gonna have a shoot-off.”

Competition flared in her gaze, and I knew I had her. Pride filled my chest as I dropped the ball to the ground and passed it to her. She stopped it, kicked it into the air so it landed on her knee, and smiled.

If she learned the power her smile had on me, she could get me to do anything in the world. Like betray Dean without question. My ears got hot as I stared at her white teeth and full grin, and I blinked. She said something.

“Hm?” I said, scratching the back of my neck.

“What are we playing for? What’s the wager?” She kneed the ball into the air and juggled it, her smooth movements so ridiculously sexy.

“I hadn’t thought that part out yet, just figured a girl like you would like a little competition to distract you.”

“A girl like me, huh?” She arched a brow and whistled. “Careful with phrases like that, Luca. Could get you into trouble.”

“What type of trouble?”

Oh my god. I couldn’t help myself. Around her, my brain resorted to primal instincts.

She ran her teeth over her top lip, her eyes heating. “Not the fun kind.”

“Oh, is there a fun kind of trouble?”

“We both know there is.” She juggled the ball again, her strong legs distracting me from my original plan. “Now, where is this field?”

“Two blocks behind the house. Come on.”

I shoved my hands in my pockets and quickened my pace. It’d be easier, probably, to stop thinking about her and the way she said trouble once we were on the field. She said the word like a flirtation, a challenge, and despite the reasons I couldn’t get into trouble, I kinda wanted to. With her.

My quarterback’s twin sister… my temporary roommate… a girl I could lose all my focus for… why did the things I wanted cause so much damage?

“If your plan was to distract me, you’re doing a great job. Excellent even, if you wanted to annoy me just a bit too.”

“Annoy you?”

Her footsteps shuffled behind me. “A girl like you could be taken a lot of different ways.”

“We’re both athletes. There are fewer things in the world that can help a busy mind than doing something active. I took a guess you were the same as me where the thought of competition excites you and dulls everything else in comparison.”

“Damn, Monroe. Fair assessment.” She laughed.

I loved the deep, throaty sound of her cackle. Full-bellied and loud. It echoed in the air, lingering and almost making me smile. The neighborhood was mostly student housing, grad students or athletes, but there was the occasional small family. It smelled like wet leaves—a very specific scent I associated with this park, and I breathed it in. I came here every once in a while to relieve stress, and it certainly wasn’t a secret place, but sharing it with Lorelei seemed more personal than I realized.

We approached the park, and the streetlights hit the soccer goal perfectly. It illuminated the posts, and someone had recently cut the grass. I inhaled the scent and glanced back at Lorelei. “You want to kick or block first?”

“Depends on the wager.” She juggled the ball again and ran ahead of me, weaving the soccer ball between her legs. Even in her outfit, she moved fast and smoothly. She stared at me, one thick brow arched. “I know I’m a better kicker than you, so I’d like to ask what’s on the table before deciding if I take the lead first or second.”

“Confident, huh? I played soccer too.”

“Okay, bro. I’ve thrown a football before then.” She rolled her eyes, tossing her hair over one shoulder in a sassy move.

Hated to admit I liked seeing this side of her.

“Fine. New game.” My voice came out stern and grumpy, but Lorelei didn’t seem to take offense.

She moved closer to me, the ball still in sync with her feet. “We just making shit up as we go, huh?”

“Yes, smartass.” My lip quirked up.

She scrunched her nose, the mischievous glint highlighted in her eye by the streetlamps. She juked left, then right, then whizzed by me before gently kicking the ball into the goal. “Point for me.”

“Mm, we hadn’t started.”

“Says you.” She jogged backward, a winning smile stretching across her face. “Apparently, we can just make up rules. So, point to me.”

“You’re mouthy.”

“A girl like me is mouthy? No. No way.”

“And sarcastic.” I walked up to her, watching the ball move back and forth. She kicked in between my legs, ran around my left side so her back pressed against my side, and zoomed by me. Her floral perfume was delicious, but it mixed a little bit with sweat. It was intoxicating.

“If I win,” she said once I faced her again. “You stop being an asshole to me.”

“What?” I snapped.

“Yeah, we can be cordial. Friends, even. Don’t give my brother a hard time about me living in the house.” She bounced it left to right, right to left. Then she rested the bottom of her foot on top of the ball.

“No.” I shook my head, guilt eating me inside out. A painful swell of my gut made my jaw tense. “Not no, I meant—” I winced and fanned myself with the collar of my shirt. The weather had warmed. “I’ll do that regardless.”

Especially after seeing so many smiles tonight.

She narrowed her eyes in the same way my grandma did when she wanted more of an explanation. I ran a hand over my jaw twice before continuing. “I won’t make Dean feel bad, and we can be friendly to each other.”

“Be friendly is not the same as friends.”

“Correct.”

She pursed her lips, a coy smirk on her face. “So, you’ll put up with me in a friendly sort of way, but we won’t be hanging out?”

“Yes.” It had to be that way. Didn’t she see? She already took up too much time and energy and had me wanting more. Limiting my time around her was the only rational solution. The more I was around her, the more I wanted to break my rules.

“Got it, Monroe. I understand the assignment.” She faked right, then did a wild move with her feet and was by me in a second. She scored again and stuck her tongue out at me. “Two to zip, baby.”

“I’m letting you win so you’re not thinking about Derrick Dick face.”

“Ha! I love that one. Derrick Dick face. Hold on.” She pulled her phone out of her pocket, her grin showing all her teeth. “Let me write—oh.”

My muscles tightened. “Oh what?”

“He texted me.” Her face paled, and she looked up with irritation swimming in her eyes. Her breathing increased, and her nostrils flared.

She didn’t say with what, and my god, I needed to know. Did he realize he was an idiot and want her back? Disappointment spread through my body. I didn’t want that to happen. “What did he say?”

“U look good. Wanna come over later? He even spelled it with one dumb u and do I want to come over? Shit on a stick. Ugh.” She kicked a patch of grass and groaned. “The guy broke my heart. Was I just a piece of ass?”

“You’re not going, right?”

“No.” She growled and kicked the ball hard. It soared down the entire park and rolled near the playground with three slides. “I wanted to make him jealous or have him regret what he did, and yeah, I know I look good, and pretending to flirt with you or whatever sparked something in him, but this hurts worse.”

Distraction. She needs a distraction.

I shouted, “Loser vacuums the hallway.” Then I sprinted toward the ball.

“Wait! Hey!”

My lungs expanded as I put everything I had into this sprint. A million thoughts went through my head, all about injuries and me acting out of character and what if I stepped on a rock and twisted my ankle? None of the thoughts stopped me though. I inhaled the cool air and checked over my left shoulder, and holy shit. Lorelei had caught up to me.

I couldn’t let her win.

I moved my legs faster, harder, but she kept pace, and the soccer ball was right there. I just had to slow down and bend to get it. She did the same thing, and by some twist of fate, we reached for it at the same time.

“Not today, Monroe. Nope.”

She shoved me out of the way, but I wrapped my arm around her waist and yanked her with me. Shielding her body, I landed on my back with her shoulders pressed against my chest.

Her hair fell over my face, her round ass pressed up against my waist, and her body was on top of me. It was a torture and a dream wrapped into one. My pulse pounded in my ears, toes, and fingertips.

“I cannot believe you did this!” she shouted.

It took my brain a few seconds to catch up.

She’s laughing.

“You huge wombat.” She snorted and rolled to the right, pushing herself off me. “You tackled me.”

“No, you took me down.” I pushed up onto my elbows, admiring the curls escaping her hair. It was a magical sort of chaos, and my fingers itched to touch them.

“You raced me like we were six years old.”

“But it took your mind off that asshole, didn’t it?”

She pulled her knees up to her chest, rested her chin onto her knees, and looked at me with a sad smile. She held my gaze, not saying anything, and the magnetic pull to her grew. I leaned forward, not even meaning to, and she squeezed my forearm. “I know our paths to not friends but not enemies wasn’t traditional by any means, but I see what you did tonight.” She took a shaky breath. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” I couldn’t stop staring at her fingers on my arm. She brushed her thumb over my skin, rubbing it, and it was such a simple, sweet gesture that there was no reason to feel her touch from there to my toes. Clearing my throat, I focused on the green slide when I said, “What do you want as your reward?”

“Wait, for real for real?”

“You technically beat me.” I flicked my attention to her, and the hope on her face solidified my answer. “You can pick anything.”

She narrowed her eyes, a glint of malice brewing behind them. Would she make me clean the toilets? Sing to her? Girls were strange creatures, so I wasn’t sure.

“We do friendly stuff like this every once in a while.”

“That’s what you want?” I gripped the back of my neck. She wanted to hang out with me? Why? “How many times?”

“Do you plan your hangouts, Monroe?” She smirked, then smacked her forehead. “Of course you do. Monday night special, Friday night get your freak on.”

My muscles tensed, the urge to defend myself on the tip of my tongue. “I live by a tight schedule.”

“No kidding.” She stared up at the sky, sighing. “How about this? I’ll make a punch card for our hangouts and send you a calendar invite.”

“That seems extra.”

“Monroe, I am extra.” She flashed another grin, and all traces of the lingering sadness disappeared. Then, she yawned.

Her face was an open book, every thought and emotion displayed with her full lips and wide eyes and button nose.

“Come on. We’re walking back.” I stood and held out a hand to help her up. She took it, and the same tingling shot through my arm to my heart. I made another mental note—don’t touch her.

I didn’t regret volunteering to help her because Eric was a prick, but if a simple hand-holding had me flustered, I couldn’t imagine what a kiss would do. Like I would let that happen.

Dean would murder me if I touched his sister in any way that wasn’t friendly. I had a defense for us hanging out tonight—one he couldn’t find a fault in. But if I ever acted on my deepest fantasy, it was game over for me. He could punch me, kick me out of the house, and ultimately, he could affect our relationship on the field.

Football had to come first, always, and distracting Lorelei for one night was a momentary blip of judgement. That was all. It wouldn’t happen again. I’d find a way out of hanging with her… I had to.