Sweet Home (Page 23)

Shrugging, he answered, “Don’t get a chance much anymore. He was pissed with somethin’ I’d done. He called me to meet him and… well, you saw the rest.”

I shuffled forward and sat facing him. “What was so bad that he’d strike you like that?”

“Money, disappointment, not being the dutiful son. The usual. He’s never gone that far in public before, though. I’ve never seen him so pissed.”

“But you’re his son! How dare he treat you like that? What the hell have you done to deserve to be punched?”

A closed mouth ensured he didn’t say anything in response. I could tell he wasn’t going to talk; his lips were locked tight in refusal. I took his hand again and he gripped mine, making sure I couldn’t let go.

He appeared so lost, his usual hard exterior split open, exposing his weakness. I needed to change the topic, gradually reseal the scar.

“How was your game in Arkansas?”

A small flicker of relief flashed across his face at my turn in conversation. “We won. No help from me though.”

“You have a bad game?”

He licked his lip, prodding at the fresh cut, and picked up a fallen twig, snapping it in his clenched fist. “Fuckin’ nightmare of a game.”

“Well, you’re only human.”

“I’ve never had such a bad start to a season in my entire life. My senior year, the one in which I’ll enter the draft, and it’s all goin’ to hell in a hand basket.”

“Why is it going so bad?”

“Because I can’t complete even one of my passes. I’m lettin’ the team and fans down. My parents won’t back the f**k off over Shelly—you just witnessed my daddy’s insistence on that issue. She’s being a bigger leech than normal and I’m constantly fightin’ her off. My head is all over the place, I can’t sleep or get focused, and thinkin’ about a certain English girl keeps me up every night. Every f**kin’ night. She’s plaguin’ my dreams.”

He pulled our hands to his unshaven cheek and ran them up and down his rough stubble.

“Yeah, I know what that’s like,” I whispered, watching as my fingertips brushed past his mouth, completely breathless at his confession.

“I thought about our last meetin’ nonstop while I was away.” Rome’s voice was almost inaudible, as if admitting to committing a cardinal sin. He seemed nervous, not an emotion I’d seen from him before. I guess actually liking a girl was a whole new world to the king of meaningless sex.

“Yeah. Me too. It’s been… different to have my head filled with a certain Bama hottie and not Dante, Descartes, or Kant.”

He nudged me with his knee, amusement brightening his dead eyes. “You think I’m a hottie?”

I blushed and nudged him back. “You’re all right.”

Peeking at me from under his long lashes, he cracked a smile. “Where were you goin’ at this time of mornin’ when you saw this hottie gettin’ a beatdown?”

“Rome—”

“Answer the damn question, Shakespeare.”

I shook my head. Hard Romeo began to rouse from his sleep. “The library. I have notes I need to write up for Professor Ross. She has an office there where I can work undisturbed. I saw… what happened with you and your daddy and thought you needed me more than the exciting world of academia does right now.”

With a pat on my leg, he pulled me to stand, our hands still clasped tight. “Let’s go.”

“Where to?”

“The library. I’m gonna help you. We can’t let the world of academia down now, can we?”

“Romeo… are you sure you don’t want to go home or do something else? We could talk more if you’d like. Whatever you need.”

Losing his jovial tone, he stressed, “No. We’re gonna go to the library and I’m gonna help you with your paper.” He wasn’t to be trifled with. He wasn’t far from snapping and I could see it, untapped aggression waiting impatiently at the surface for its chance to pounce. He needed the distraction and I thought it best to take him with me to save some poor fellow student from meeting the end of Romeo’s fist when he finally slipped over the edge.

“You’re going to help me with philosophy?”

A moody pout formed on his lips. “Hey, just ‘cause I’m a jock don’t mean I’m stupid.” He wrapped his arms around my shoulders from behind. “For your information, I’m acin’ that class. I may be able to show you a thing or two.”