“You won’t?”
“Nah.” Reid scans my face, a grin springing across his. “Relax, man. You look like you’re about to have a heart attack.”
“Just didn’t think we’d out ourselves like that. Sloppy on my part.”
It’s tricky to navigate because I like spending time with Seraphina and doing things together. Actually, the two of us in public isn’t the issue; it’s that I need to keep my hands to myself when we are. Easier said than done. She’s so soft, and she smells so good…
“I take it Carter wouldn’t approve?”
“Chase would blow a fucking gasket. Besides, he doesn’t need to know. We’re not dating, we’re just…”
“Fucking?” he supplies.
My stomach clenches. Categorizing it that way feels wrong.
“Friends with benefits, basically.” Well, fuck. That doesn’t sound great, either. “We both have a lot going on right now.”
Reid drains the last of his Stella and sets it on the nightstand next to the alarm clock. “Smart. All of the advantages without any of the drawbacks. Makes it easier on you if things go sideways.”
“I don’t think they’ll go sideways.”
He snorts. “That’s what I thought, and then she fucked Grady.”
My head whips to look at him. “What?”
I pick up my book and slip a metal bookmark inside to hold my page, setting it on the bedside table. Suddenly, it all makes sense. This is why Reid transferred in the middle of the season. This is why he’s been so tight-lipped about the circumstances around it. And this is why he’s shown zero interest in all the chicks who’ve been throwing themselves at him since he arrived. His girlfriend cheated on him with his team’s head coach. Dude got burned. Bad.
“Fuck my life.” Reid runs a hand down his face. “I’m not s’pposed to be talking about this.”
“I think you already did, dude. You can tell me if you want. Remember, you’ve got leverage on me, too. Consider it a vow of mutually assured destruction.”
He stares at the patterned bedspread, drumming his fingers on his thigh, then his gaze snaps up to mine. “Fine. Grady fucked my girlfriend. That’s why I transferred. One day I went to his office after hours to ask him about something, and he had Michelle bent over his desk. Some mentor, right?”
“Holy fuck. What did you do?”
The very thought of seeing Seraphina with someone else like that makes my stomach lurch. I was pissed enough about Rob picking her up and trying to convince her to spend the night. I have a newly discovered jealous streak a mile wide when it comes to her. If I found someone else fucking her, I’d end up in jail.
“What do you think I did? I waited for him to get his pants on and then I kicked his ass. His fighting skills must’ve been rusty because it was pretty one-sided.” He laughs, but it’s bitter. “Woodbine was more worried about keeping everything under wraps, so no one pressed any charges. Guess they figured it’d be a bad look if people found out their thirty-year-old head coach was fucking undergrads, especially his star player’s nineteen-year-old girlfriend.”
“That’s brutal, Holloway. I’m sorry.” My empathy skills leave a lot to be desired, but I feel for him in this case. I’d have done the same thing in his shoes.
“I couldn’t stay there and play for him after that happened. I couldn’t even look at him. They made me sign an NDA in exchange for helping me transfer. All I had to do was leave quietly and keep my mouth shut, which I’d been doing a good job of until I had all this beer and now… fuck. Telling you puts me in breach of contract.”
He blows out a breath, sagging against the wooden headboard. “It feels kind of good to get it off my chest, though. The only other people who know are my parents, and they seem to think I should forgive Michelle. We’d been together since high school, man. How the fuck do you forgive that?”
“You don’t. At least, not in my world.” As I reach for my bottled water, an unpleasant realization hits me. Seraphina and I haven’t talked about other people. Haven’t even tiptoed around the subject. Deep down, I don’t think she would hook up with anyone else, but it’s unsettling to know she wouldn’t technically be breaking any rules if she did.
The heat kicks on and warm air rolls across my bare upper body from the nearby vent. It starts to feel uncomfortably warm, and I’m not sure if it’s due to the climate control or the disturbing mental image I’m holding in my head.
“Right?” Reid slumps in his bed and lies flat, pulling the covers over his body. He stares at the ceiling as he continues. “We were together for over three years. Three goddamn wasted years of my life. She even came to Woodbine to be with me. I had no idea anything was going on behind my back. Who knows, maybe I was too focused on my own shit.”
“You can’t blame yourself for her behavior. Even if you were, there are a million other ways she could’ve handled it instead of cheating.”
“Either way, joke’s on me. I thought we were going to get married. And now I am never, ever fucking dating again.” His words slur together. “It’s not worth it, man.”
When I switch off the lights, Reid passes out instantly. I’m not as lucky. My mind refuses to shut off. I lay in the dark, staring at the crack of moonlight pouring in through the gap between the curtains and the wall. Is he right? Is this thing with Seraphina going to go sideways on me? What happens when she moves out? Or when I leave for the summer?
She said we should enjoy ourselves and take things as they come. Easier said than done when that’s not in my nature. I’ve never not had a plan.
CHAPTER 22
VALENTINE’S DAY
SERAPHINA
This week has flown by. Not only have I been incredibly busy with school, but I also went to the new Reese Witherspoon movie with Chloe, hit up the mall with Siobhan, took my mom to two different medical appointments, and made a respectable dent in unpacking and organizing my things. Admittedly, the last one is still ongoing, but I can see the floor again so that’s progress.
Tyler’s been even busier than I have. We haven’t had any time together aside from a handful of stolen kisses and daily marathon text sessions. Luckily, our drought is about to end. Chase and Dallas left for their couples weekend an hour ago, and I’m at home waiting for Tyler to get back from working with his goalie coach. We’ve flat-out abandoned our questions today in favor of torturing each other via the dirtiest messages possible in preparation for later.
Hades: I can’t stop picturing you fucking yourself with that toy.
Tinker Bell: I can’t wait until you’re the one fucking me instead.
I’m what some might call excessively prepared for this occasion. I’ve shaved everything from the neck down, applied perfume （including behind my knees）， opted for waterproof mascara so it’ll hold up better during sex, and selected the sexiest matching bra and underwear I own. Not that I expect either of those to stay on for very long.
According to the clock, I still have nearly two hours to wait. I settle onto the couch with a cup of coffee and my lap desk, opening my laptop. I’ve been secretly working on a poem for the magazine contest Chloe told me about. No one else knows yet, and depending how things play out, it’s possible they never will.