I approached her slowly, sliding my hand against her cheek until she closed her eyes and let out a long exhale.
“I’m not breaking my promise,” I told her, waiting until her eyes opened again and found mine.
And I believed it. I believed in the very center of who I was that I still would take her virginity and show her the map of every way to achieve pleasure in bed.
But I wouldn’t do it under the guise of it being fake.
I needed to clear my head, to sift through every fucked-up thought and emotion that had been haunting me all week so I could tell her what I was feeling.
And then, I had to pray it wasn’t one-sided.
Pressing a soft kiss against her temple, I released her, bolting for her front door before the beast inside me could overturn my control.
And on my walk home, I started making a plan.
Giana
“How’s my little mouse?”
It was ridiculous, how those four words from my father nearly made me burst into tears. They filled my eyes without warning as I walked across campus two days later, tucking my coat more around me to shield from the brutal wind.
“I’m good, Dad,” I lied, but couldn’t stop myself from sniffing to keep the tears at bay, as well as the snot running from the sudden onslaught of emotions.
“Mmm,” he responded, and we both knew he was well aware that I was not okay. “Did you hear that Laura is receiving an award for the research she did last semester?”
“Really?” Instantly, my emotions stabled — which was likely why Dad had changed the subject. He knew when I wanted to talk and when I wanted to hermit. “That’s incredible.”
“Your mother and I are going to visit for the ceremony next month. I thought maybe we could come visit you, too. It’s when you have a home game against the Hawks. We’d love to see you in action out there on the field.”
I let out a bit of a laugh on my next breath because he and I both knew that it was I, not we, that belonged in that sentence.
“You know I don’t suit up and play football, right?”
“And you know that I see you working hard on the sidelines every game, right?”
I stopped mid-stride, emotion strangling me once again. “You do?”
“Of course, I do, my little mouse. And I watched every interview you did for the auction Friday night, too. You’re very well-spoken, young lady. I was highly impressed.”
The compliment mixed with the pride I heard in his voice made me smile, but it slipped quickly when I remembered the auction I’d been trying to forget. Yesterday was easy. It was game day, full of reporters and wrangling the team. But today was Sunday, a day of rest, a day where I didn’t have class or anything with the team to keep me busy.
And so I was drowning in my thoughts.
Clay had rejected me.
There was no way to sugarcoat it, to explain it or make an excuse for the way he’d walked away from me when I was literally stripped bare for him. It was the most vulnerable I’d ever been with him, with anyone, and he’d turned me down.
As much as my stomach curled in on itself with that feeling of dismissal, another emotion battled with it, one that reminded me of the desperation with which I’d launched myself at Clay without warning. I hadn’t told him that was the night, hadn’t prepared him for anything.
But that was exactly what I’d felt — desperation.
I was losing him, losing us, and so I tried to cling to him even as Maliyah slipped her arms around him and pulled him from me. Of course, he wouldn’t want to have sex with me when Maliyah literally paid thousands of dollars to prove she wanted him back now.
This was what was always supposed to happen.
And yet now that it was, I was thrashing.
“Save me a father-daughter dinner when we come?” Dad asked, breaking the silence I’d left him with.
I let out a slow exhale. “I’d love that.”
“Me, too. Until then, promise me you’ll take care of yourself?”
“Promise,” I managed, though my voice was weak.
“I love you, Giana. Remember everything is temporary.”
Those words, though well-intentioned, made my nose sting with another wave of nausea. He meant to assure me that no matter what I was going through, it wouldn’t last forever, that everything would eventually be okay.
But he only reminded me of what was causing the pain in the first place.
Everything is temporary.
First and foremost, whatever relationship I had with Clay.
“Love you, Dad,” I whispered, and then I pulled out my phone, ending the call and tugging my earbuds out of my ears. I tucked them back into my pocket along with my phone before heaving myself onto the nearest bench, one that overlooked a small pond on campus.