Page 22

22

VAUGHN

I ’m mad at him. That’s new. I’m rarely mad at Austin, and I don’t like it at all, but I am. I hate how quickly he shut down going to that party with me as my date. I’m not that naive. I know some of the guys on the team and around campus might have something to say about it.

But I don’t care. It’s none of their business who I love, and I do love Austin. He just won’t let me.

I guess I thought sex would allow me to show him just how much I love him. Not that sex is the be-all and end-all in a relationship, but since he won’t let me say the actual words, that was my shot. I tried to show him with every touch and every kiss. I guess it was just about getting off for him though.

And it pisses me off.

I say goodbye to a couple of guys I had my last class with and have chatted with a little bit, here and there, heading into my dorm while they go off to theirs. When I get up to my room, I grab my notes from my last class and stare at them, trying to study.

College isn’t so bad. I’m actually starting to like it a lot. I even got plenty of time today in practice to run actual plays. It felt good running around until my lungs were burning.

But it all pales in comparison to what I’ve had with Austin since that first kiss. God, I can’t stop thinking about kissing him. Even when I’m mad at him, I want to kiss him.

He must have heard my thoughts because my phone rings. When I see it’s a video call from Austin, I don’t hesitate to answer, even if our last conversation runs through my mind and pinches at my heart.

“Hey,” I say softly, taking in all his features. His hair is windblown, and it looks like he’s walking on campus somewhere.

“Hey. I have one more class but realized we hadn’t talked yet today.”

Yeah, because I’m pissed. I guess that’s how I deal—just avoid, avoid, avoid. “Yeah, sorry. Today was a little crazy.”

“Yeah?” His smile breaks my heart. I hate this. “Did you get to play the sports today?”

I give in and laugh at that because he’s ridiculous. “Yup. For a whole hour.”

His smile is even more vibrant now. “That’s good. I’m glad. And how are classes going?”

I shrug but show him my notes anyway. “I’m studying the hierarchy of needs right now.”

“Oh, talk dirty to me,” he teases, and I laugh.

“See now, if that turns you on, we might have a real problem.” Damn it, Vaughn. Don’t flirt. We’re mad.

But I can’t help but think how adorable his blush is when his eyes meet mine through the phone screen. “Everything you say pretty much turns me on. I can’t stop thinking about last weekend.”

He’s a little quieter now when he’s talking about sex, but as great as the sex was, when I think about this last weekend, my mind goes to him shutting me down so fiercely.

“I can’t wait to do it again this weekend.”

I swallow hard, dread spreading through me as I clear my throat and reach back with my hand, gripping my neck. “Um... about that...”

His face falls. “What’s the matter?”

You won’t let me fucking love you and show the world how much I love you , I think but I don’t say. “Nothing. I was just um, thinking...” Why is this so difficult? He didn’t have any problem telling me how it was going to be when I wanted to take him as my date to the party. He shut it down quickly, and he keeps doing it.

I’m not stupid. I know he knows every time I’m about to tell him how much I love him, and he puts a stop to it. I do love him, but I can’t put up with that forever. I want to be able to love who I love loudly. I get that he’s scared—probably more for me than for himself—but I don’t live my life that way.

He should know better. I face everything head-on. I don’t hide, and I don’t want to hide him like some sort of a shameful secret. What we have is beautiful. I’m not ashamed.

“What? You were thinking what?” he prods, and I can hear the worry and how his voice has gone to a higher pitch.

“I, uh... I think we should probably take the weekend off. You have to be tired of driving so far, and I don’t want you to fall behind at school. I know you said you have it under control, but I know how important school is to you.”

There. I said it. I got the words out. I watch his face as he processes what I just said, and I hate the worry I see there. The pain. “Oh.” I’m not strong enough for this. I just want to make it better. Make his face stop contorting in the anguish I see. “Okay. So I’ll stay here this weekend, and you’ll go to the party with your team. That’s good. Really good. Great.”

And now he’s rambling. Great. Just fan-fucking-tastic. I really upset him. “Just this one weekend. I’m sure you need to study.”

“Yeah. Of course.” Shit, are his eyes watering? Please tell me he’s not going to cry because of me. “You’re right. I probably should have been strong enough to stay away last weekend. This will be good.”

If he says good one more time, I’m going to scream. He’s obviously not good. I’m not either. I love that he showed up last weekend. That he couldn’t stay away. It was the best surprise of my life. But... he doesn’t want us to be a couple.

I know I need to stay firm, but I also hate the look on his face right now. “I’m glad you came here last weekend. I loved it.” Please just let me tell you how much I love you. I silently plead with him.

If he did, I’m pretty sure I’d be putty in his hands—hell, I already pretty much am, but I think I need the weekend. I need to go to the party by myself and maybe get used to the fact that Austin may never actually want there to be an us .

Maybe he just wanted someone he’s close to for discovering all these new things. Maybe he doesn’t really want to be a couple.

The bitterness squeezes my insides and actually physically hurts.

“Do you have a costume? For the party?” His voice sounds strained, and his face is showing how hard it is for him to ask.

I nod, trying to play it cool. “Yeah, it’s lame though.”

He smiles sadly into the camera. “What is it?”

“Eh, just a devil.”

He snorts. “You couldn’t pull off the devil if you tried. Didn’t they have anything else?”

My eyes narrow. “I can totally be the devil.” I try my best at an evil laugh, but it comes out a little squeaky and has him laughing at me, but he’s looking at me... The way he looks at me—I swear he loves me. Like he said he did.

Why is he so afraid to let me love him back?

“Okay well, I guess it’s good that you won’t be there to witness my humiliation.”

That seems to sober him up, and if he told me he wanted to go with me, or if he said he really wanted to see me this weekend, I know I’d give in because I really want to see him.

But all he offers is a sweet, sad smile. “Yeah, maybe it is.” The smile is forced. Not even close to his real smile I love so much. “But next weekend?”

We let the question hang there, and I hate how hopeful and scared he sounds when he asks.

“Yeah. Of course.”

“Okay, I’ll talk to you later then. I gotta get to class.”

“Yeah, okay. Talk to you later.”

We hang up, and I lie back on my bed, notes forgotten.

I just want my boyfriend to be my damn boyfriend and let me tell him how much I love him. Is that really too much to ask?