Page 113 of The Cheerleader

Bryan

“What’s wrong?” She asks a legitimate question while I try to avoid her eyes.

“Do you want to sit there and eat while Liz plays tonsil hockey with some guy—who, by the way, is going to end up either getting his heart broken by her or punched in the nose by me, possibly both.”

First, she looks chagrinned, then she looks puzzled. I don’t blame her. I swipe a hand through my hair and keep walking. She walks with me. I’m not surprised. Beyond that, I’m not sure how I feel because I’m fucking confused.

I don’t want to have feelings for her. Hell, I don’t even want to have lust for her, but that boat has sunk.

The problem is, as much as I don’t want Liz to be my girlfriend, I can’t toss her aside, can’t not have her in my life. I care about her, and there’s no way I can abandon her—not even for Susie. That’s what my head and my heart say—until Susie comes along and makes me feel crazy.

She gives me her trust, wearing her heart on her sleeve even when she’s trying to hold back. And she has no idea how beautiful she is, no matter how many guys flatter her. She deserves better than a horny college kid. And I’m not sure I’m that guy.

She bumps into my side, and I’m not sure if it’s accidental until I glance down at her and see the hopeful grin. “A penny for your thoughts?” she asks naively.

“Afraid my thoughts will cost you a whole hell of a lot more than that, Princess. You don’t have what it takes.” I absolutely love provoking her, especially with the truth.

She wrinkles her nose, and I can’t wait to hear what smartass comment she has for me, theoretically to put me in my place.

“Arrogance? Is that what you’re going to try to deflect me with?” She shakes her head. “Why do guys always think I’m so fragile?”

“What guys?” It’s a knee-jerk response, and I could bite off my tongue for letting my caveman instincts take over. Shit. I’m better than that.

Her eyebrows shoot up, and she suppresses a smile. “Do you really care?”

“Now who’s deflecting?” I reel in my quick-trigger Susie-inspired emotions because she’s right. It shouldn’t matter to me if there are other guys in the picture, even assholes who underestimate her strength.

“I don’t underestimate you. Maybe I don’t see the point of dragging you down with my inner turmoil.”

“You mean melodrama?” She doesn’t bother hiding her small laugh at my expense now.

I heave a sigh and smirk at her. “No melodrama. It would only be melodrama if I shared my shit with you.” I raise an eyebrow to emphasize my point, that not sharing makes sense.

“That’s a cop-out I’ve never heard before, but it’s still a cop-out.”

I snort.

But then she slows down when we reach the student union, and I stop and turn to her because she looks serious.

“What’s the matter?”

“I wish you would trust me.” She stares into my eyes like she’s waiting for a response, as if she’s asked a question. But it feels more like a dare.

“I do.”

“Prove it.”

I glance around. Students are coming and going, and the breeze kicks up. “Let’s go inside.” She follows me, and the sparring of a few seconds ago, even though it had an edge, makes me want to wind back the clock.

We get inside, and I lead her down a hall to the left and open one of the doors to an empty room, except for the furniture, which makes it look like a lounge. I’ve been here before for an alumni event. I close the door behind us and then lean against it, pulling her into me, holding onto her hips.

She pulls back to keep the smallest space between us, looking up at me, her eyes wide, expectant.

“If I get drafted by the NFL, I’ll have to play.”

“And that’s a problem.” She’s not being sarcastic, not telling me what’s the problem,

but she doesn’t understand.