Page 17 of Scars of Anatomy

After a record-speed shower and some more congratulations from the team, as well as Coach, I’m finally able to sneak out of the locker room and back out to the field where people are still hanging out, celebrating.

I spot Olivia and her friends near the stands. I saunter over to them, and Rat Boy’s beady little eyes home in on me, turning to slits. Her back is to me, and I walk up behind her, casually slinging my arm over her shoulders.

“Hey, Finch.”

She tips her head back, looking up at me through her lashes, smiling. “Hey, congratulations!”

“Thank you.” I smile down at her.

“Great play,” Delilah comments, the bright field lights reflecting in the lenses of her glasses and her dark curly hair blowing in the breeze. “Way to show those preppy assholes they’ll never beat us, no matter how hard they try.”

I chuckle. “Thanks, Dee.”

A sharp gust of cold October air rushes through, sending a zip down my spine as it whips through my still-damp hair. The cold air bites into my skin, especially the tips of my ears, and I tug at the back of my hoodie, pulling the hood up and over my head.

I feel Olivia shiver, and she wraps her arms around herself, trying to ward off the cold. I pull her closer to me, trying to huddle and share body heat, and earning a glare from Rat Boy.

Delilah rubs her hands together for warmth. “Let’s go over by the fire, shall we?” she asks, already heading for the large bonfire set up at the far end of the parking lot.

“Or we could just go home,” Rat Boy mutters not so quietly under his breath.

We all walk out of the stadium and over to the fire, my arm still hooked around Olivia’s shoulders. There’s a crowd around the fire, everyone trying to seek warmth in either the flames or the red Solo cups of liquor being passed around.

“Shots?” Some random frat boy approaches us, offering up the red Solo cups in his hands.

“You still driving?” Delilah asks, looking over her shoulder at Olivia.

“Yeah,” Olivia replies. “Go ahead, Dee, I’ll drive you home.”

“You’re the best,” she says, grinning. “Don’t mind if I do.” Delilah accepts the cup, downing the liquid inside. She reaches for the other cup in the guy’s hand and offers it to Rat Boy. “Here, Quinton, you could stand to loosen up.”

I choke back a laugh.

“I’m fine,” Rat Boy spits, indicating he’s anything but fine, his jaw tight and ticking in frustration.

“Sure,” Delilah drawls dryly. Not letting the shot go to waste, she downs that one as well.

“You guys want anything?” the frat boy asks, looking at Olivia and me expectantly.

“No, thank you,” Olivia replies.

He gives her an understanding nod. “Miller?”

“Nah, man. I’m good,” I say, not wanting to drink around Olivia when she’s going to be sober.

“You sure? You were the MVP out there tonight, you deserve it,” he presses.

“No, thanks, man,” I insist.

“All right,” he says, lingering for a few more moments, thinking I’ll change my mind, before heading to the next group.

Another harsh gust of wind comes through, causing the flames of the fire to whip around and a shiver to run down Olivia’s spine.

“Cold?” I ask, running my hand up and down her arm, trying to provide her warmth.

The light of the fire dances across her face, and I can see the tip of her nose is starting to turn red from the cold.

“I’m okay,” she lies, just as another shiver racks her thin frame.

“Come on, Finch, I have an extra hoodie in the truck,” I say, grabbing her hand and lacing our fingers together, then pulling her toward the other end of the parking lot.

“Where are you going?” I hear Rat Boy ask.

“We’ll be back,” I say, not even bothering to look over my shoulder at him.

Halfway across the parking lot I find Chase talking to a redhead from the cheerleading squad, both of them looking a bit intoxicated and very flirty.

“Hey, man, can I have the keys?” I ask, interrupting their flirt fest.

“Sure thing,” he says, struggling to dig them out of his pocket, then throwing them at me. I have to dive to the left a bit to catch them.

“Hey, Olivia, right?” he asks, pointing at her, remembering her from that one time I brought her to our room.

His eyes home in on our intertwined fingers, and a wicked grin splits his face.

“So are you going to be coming back to the dorm late tonight?” he asks me suggestively, basically asking if I’m going to have sex with her, knowing I never bring girls back to our place to hook up.

I mentally groan, wanting to punch him in his face. “No,” I almost growl in response.

“So, what time do you think you’ll be back to the room?” he asks quizzically, and I already know he’s planning on taking Red back to our room.

“I don’t know, I’ll text you,” I say, avoiding adding to see if the coast is clear .

He gives me a lazy, drunken smile. “You’re the best.”

“Whatever,” I mumble under my breath, walking away and leading Olivia to the truck.

I let go of her hand to unhinge the tailgate, then hop into the bed of the truck and walk over to the large toolbox attached to the back, using the key to open it.

Among all the stuff Chase keeps in there I find the old hoodie I stashed away in case of an emergency.

I pull it out and lock the toolbox back up, turning around to see Olivia sitting on the edge of the tailgate, her legs swinging about a foot from the ground.

“Here, Finch,” I say, jumping onto the concrete to stand in front of her.

I hand her the hoodie, then help her put it on. When she has it pulled over her head and down her torso, I reach back and pull her ponytail out, draping her long caramel-colored hair over her right shoulder.

“Thank you.” She blushes, shying her gaze away from mine.

I place my hands on her thighs, spreading them apart so I can slot my body between them. It was meant to be a fairly innocent move, until I hear the little hitch in her breath.

“Thank you for coming tonight,” I say sincerely, trying to find her eyes.

“Look at me, Finch,” I demand softly, running my hands up and down her thighs soothingly.

I look down, loving how large my hands look on her body.

The hem of my jersey peeks out from beneath the hoodie a few inches, putting a smile on my face.

I lean forward, my lips close to her ear.

“I told you you’d look great in my jersey. ”

Her body tenses, and I shift my gaze to see the pulse in her neck jump.

I run my hands a little higher on her thighs, the hem of my jersey starting to drape over my thumbs.

Startled, she grabs my wrist with one of her small, cold hands while the other lands on my shoulder, not to push me away, but more to brace herself, her spine straightening.

Her legs gently squeeze a fraction around my hips.

“Finch?” My voice comes out low and gravelly as I pull away to look at her face to find her still shyly casting her eyes down. I raise my hand, hooking a finger under her chin to lift her eyes to mine.

When those warm honey–colored eyes lock on mine, my heart does this long, slow jump in my chest. Her gaze is so soft yet intense, and for a moment I swear it drops to my lips, a look of yearning flashing across her face.

Just as my hand slides up, my palm coming to rest on the side of her neck as my thumb strokes her jaw, her hand on my shoulder slides down to my chest. Her long, thin, delicate fingers toy with one of the strings from my hoodie, and her eyes bounce from her fingers, lingering on my lips before sliding up to my eyes.

Instinctively, I lick my bottom lip to moisten it, leaning in to test the waters. When she doesn’t pull away, I lean in closer, until our breath mingles, my heart pounding in my chest.

“Olivia!”

She jumps, and a frustrated growl crawls up the back of my throat.

I shoot my gaze over my shoulder to see Rat Boy stomping toward us, Delilah running after him, stumbling over her feet to catch up.

His tiny hands are bunched into fists, to the point where I’m sure his knuckles are turned white, and I can practically see steam coming from his ears.

“Let’s go,” he demands, like an overbearing father.

“Don’t talk to her like that,” I snap, removing myself from Olivia and walking toward him.

He puffs out his chest, trying to seem intimidating, but his eyes give him away. I can see deep down he’s scared shitless, and he knows he would never be able to get a swing on me.

Delilah stops in her tracks, knowing there’s nothing more she can do. She knows he’s fucked. All she can do now is watch helplessly.

When there’s less than ten feet between us, I feel a pair of hands grab my forearm, stopping me from going any further.

“Bronx.” Olivia’s voice is soft and strained. She moves in front of me, placing her hands on my chest to prevent me from bashing his face in. She looks up at me helplessly, practically begging me with her eyes not to.

“Dee, take Quinton to the car, I’ll be there in a second,” she says, never taking her eyes off mine.

“Oliv—” Rat Boy tries to cut in.

“I’ll meet you at the car,” Olivia says, her voice small but stern.

I quickly tear my gaze away from hers to look over her shoulder. Rat Boy is staring at me with a look that could kill, and his jaw is clenched so tight I wouldn’t be surprised if he cracked some teeth.

Delilah reaches for his arm, and he rips it out of her grasp like a spoiled child, spinning on his heel and marching to the other end of the parking lot to throw a fit. Her eyes meet mine and she gives me a tired, apologetic look before going after him.

Olivia hesitantly grabs my chin, her touch gentle but firm, urging me to look at her. She searches my eyes, seemingly looking for something in them, in me.

Letting out a long sigh, she briefly closes her eyes, looking worn out and miserable, causing me to temporarily leash my anger. When she opens her eyes, it looks like she’s trying to hold back frustrated tears.

“I should go,” she whispers sadly, taking a step back, and I instinctively reach for her. “I’ll see you Monday.”

“Finch,” I call for her, desperation in my tone.

She shakes her head, giving me a sad, strained smile. Her hands reach down, grabbing the hem of my hoodie.

“Keep it,” I insist, before she can take it off to give it back to me. Her movements halt and she hesitates, looking conflicted. “Keep it, Finch,” I urge her.

She nods, her eyes casting to the ground. “I’m sorry,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper. “This is supposed to be your night, and I completely messed it up. You should be celebrating, partying.”

I close my eyes, exhaling through my nose. “You didn’t mess up anything.” I take a step toward her, planting my hand on her waist. “But just promise me for the next bet he won’t tag along,” I tease, trying to lighten the mood.

She lets out a soft laugh. “Who says there’ll be another bet?

” She looks at me skeptically, smirking a bit.

When I don’t respond, her expression sobers, and she lets out a disheartened sigh.

“I’ll try my best,” she promises. “He wasn’t supposed to come tonight but—” She shrugs miserably.

“Somehow he figured it out and tagged along.”

Of course he did; he probably stalks her every move.

Somewhere off in the distance, a car horn blares, and I nearly lose it.

“It’s not him,” Olivia insists, reading my mind. She pulls her car keys from her back pocket, some humor shining in her eyes. “I have the keys.”

I let out a relieved breath, allowing myself to laugh a little.

“I should get going, though,” she says reluctantly, chewing at her bottom lip. “You really did do amazing tonight. Now go have fun, Bronx. You deserve it.”

I shake my head, trying my best to hide my smile. Stepping forward, I extend my arms, and she willingly walks into them. I hug her tightly, and before I pull away I plant a kiss on her cheek, watching it turn red seconds after.

Olivia tucks some loose tendrils of hair behind her ear, blushing madly as she backs away. Walking away toward her car, she flashes me one last longing look over her shoulder. “Bye, Bronx.”

“Bye, Finch,” I say, disappointment filling my chest as I watch her go.

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