Johnny Deeper: A Sports Romance (17 page)

My heart breaks. “I would never do that to you.”

“But you’ve done it before, right?” Her lip quivers. “Just with some other girl?”

My face falls, barely able to look at her. “Rose…”

“We’re done, John Kirby.”

“No, we’re not.”

“Yes, we are.”

“No, we’re not, Rose.” She tries to spin around me but I jut out in front. “I can see it on your face. You’re pissed and you have every right to be, but this isn’t over. You want to take a stand right now. You want to be the strong one. But deep down, you know as well as I do that this isn’t over.”

She waves at the street, signaling to the incoming taxi to stop.
“Stay away from me.”

“I’m sorry,” I tell her, full of desperation. “I didn’t want you to find out like this.”

“Did you
ever
want me to find out?”

I hesitate. “I—”

She throws up her hands to silence me. “Actually, don’t answer that. I really don’t want to know.”

I stay in place, stuck in my shoes as she throws open the back door of the taxi. “Rose, I’m sorry.”

She ignores me, leaning forward in her seat with her head in her hands as the car rolls away.

Fuck.

***

I charge up the stairs two at a time.

One minute. I just need
one more minute
to explain all of this and she’ll understand.

Maybe two.

“Rose!”

I knock on her apartment door and lean on the frame to pause and catch my breath.

Come on, Rose.

I lay my ear against the door, listening closely for any movement but she’s always light on her feet. She could easily pretend not to be there but that doesn’t change the fact that I can
feel
her in there.

I stare at the peephole, watching for that slight dip in brightness to give it all away.

A shadow passes over it and I smile.

“Rose, I know you’re there. Answer the door.”

She doesn’t move. She doesn’t even say anything.

I knock a second time.

Rose answered the door last time. It was irresistible; that final chance to give into something she really wanted — something she
desired
. I’ve never forgotten how good it felt that first night when the lock finally slid free and she stepped out to look for me.

She’ll do it again. She’ll look at me with that amused annoyance on her face; arms crossed and bold. Then, I’ll kiss her and everything will be okay again.

I step to the side and rest against the wall, out of sight of the peephole just like I did before, silently waiting while I count every breath.

Soon, my pulse sinks back to its normal rhythm and the sweat dries on my brow.

She doesn’t answer.

Chapter 22

Rose

Rock bottom. That’s what this is.

No amount of pep-talk from Daisy could prepare me for how awkward and horrible this week has been.

Just ignore him. Forget about him. You’re the queen and he’s just a pathetic bee. He doesn’t matter.

Ignoring John Kirby would be a lot easier if he weren’t parked in the front row of my fucking class. He’s always there, watching me with squinting eyes, following every move I make, listening to every word I say. Every time I think I’ve mastered the art of forgetting he’s there, my eyes gravitate towards him again and everything that’s happened comes right back to the forefront of my mind.

Chemistry, Rose. Stick to the chemistry.

“If the number of electrons is more than the number of protons in the nucleus, the atom becomes negatively charged.”

John chuckles softly to himself.

I turn away from him, trying hard to ignore it but my tongue moves on its own. “Is there something you’d like to add, Mr. Kirby?” I ask him.

He shrugs. “An entire atom changed because of a few negative charges. Just seems a little unreasonable to me.”

The class snickers, their expressions stuck between confusion and amusement.

I stare at John. “Well, it’s not unreasonable at all, actually. One spare electron is all it takes to alter the very state of an atom.”

“Sounds like the protons should just get over it,” he mutters.

I raise a brow. “Oh, really?”

“Yeah, I think that would make the atoms very happy.”

“No, I think that would only teach electrons that their negative charges are acceptable behavior.”

He throws up his hands. “Maybe an atom deserves a second chance sometimes. One spare electron isn’t the end of the world.”

“Well, you’re wrong.”

He scoffs. “I disagree.”

“Science doesn’t care whether or not you agree, John.”

“Science changes every day, Ms. Hawthorne! I don’t think it’s too much to ask for a little further experimentation before making a huge mistake.”

I grit my teeth. “Maybe
experimentation
is what got the atoms into this situation in the first place!”

“Ms. Hawthorne…”
Dr. Zach rises from his seat by the door and I cringe, falling silent and John does the same. “Class dismissed.”

The class pauses for a long moment before finally standing up from the chairs, moving fast to get out of here as quick as possible, John included. I keep my head down, too ashamed to even look at them until the rustling of feet finally stops.

Dr. Zach crosses his arms and stares at me. “Well, I’m not sure what to say…”

“That…” I clear my throat. “That wasn’t what it looked like. I can explain—”

“Oh, I am no stranger to subtext, Rose,” he says. “It’s very clear to me what just happened here.”

“I’m sorry, Dr. Zach. It won’t happen again.”

“You’re right. It won’t, because you’re suspended from teaching this course. Effective immediately.”

My jaw drops. “What? No, I—”

“There are plenty of other graduate students just waiting for an opportunity like this, Rose,” he says. “Students that would never publicly disrupt a learning environment with personal drama and up until now, I thought you were among them.”

“I am.”

“Apparently not.” He turns towards the door. “You were given a perfectly reasonable set of ethical guidelines; guidelines that you have violated and I can’t ignore that.”

“Dr. Zach, please.”

“I’m sorry, Rose,” he says, his voice dry and cold. “I’ll take over the class from here.”

I stand still, barely breathing as he walks out into the hallway.

Nope, I was wrong.
This
feels a little more like rock bottom.

“Rose…”

I look up to see John standing in the doorway and I shake my head at him. “No,” I say, grabbing my things. “Go away.”

He steps into the room. “I am so—”

“Don’t you dare,”
I seethe. “No, you don’t get to keep apologizing to me. I don’t think I can take another one.”

“I should have kept my mouth shut—”

“Kind of like right now.”

“Rose—” He moves in front of me. “What can I do? Please. Tell me what you need and I’ll do it.”

I swallow the tears down but the lump builds even larger in my throat. “Actually, you know what? There is something you can do, John. You can
disappear
.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“I don’t? Look around you. I’ve lost
everything
. I’ve lost my job, my reputation — hell, an argument could be made about my innocence, too, probably—”

“Rose—”

“I’ve lost everything because of you, but
look at you.
” I gesture at him. “Not a fucking scratch.”

He shakes his head once. “That’s not true.”

“You get your
trifecta
. You get your football championship. You experience no real consequence for any of this
at all
. No one’s stepping up to take anything from you when you’re the one that started this. Does that seem
fair
to you?”

“No,” he says.

I nod slowly and a tear falls down my cheek. “You can disappear now, John.”

“Rose…”

I ignore him and walk outside into the hallway, refusing to stop until I march out of Prism Hall into the quad. He must have gotten the message. Good. The last thing I want is to bicker with him in the middle of campus.

“Whoa, baby!”

I stop and look up to see Douglas Floyd’s
fucking smirk
.

He raises his sunglasses and sets them on his head while he looks me up and down. “Rose, you sure are
hot
when you’re pissed.”

Rage boils within me and my reflexes snap. I jolt forward and kick upward with my knee, nailing him hard in the groin before I even realize what I’m doing.

Douglas doubles over onto the sidewalk, grunting as pain fires through him. Onlookers cringe. Some laugh and whip out their phones to snap a picture.

“Fuck you, Douglas,” I murmur as I pass around him.

The crowd makes a path for me, slinking back in fear but I don’t blame them. I wouldn’t want to cross paths with me either right now.

***

I thump up the stairs of my apartment building, each step feeling heavier than the last. My short term memory has officially gone bye-bye, as I don’t quite remember how I got home. I run on autopilot, pausing as I arrive at my door and reaching into my bag to sift through the bottom to locate my keys.

The door swings open and I jump as terror twists my nerves.

“Surprise!”

I blink and grip my chest. “Holy shit…” My mirror image looks back at me, except this one is missing glasses.
“Daisy?!”

My sister grins and lunges forward, throwing her arms around me in a tight embrace.

“What are you doing here?” I laugh.

“Are you kidding?” she asks, pulling me inside. “Some asshole hurt my sister. I dropped everything as fast as I could and hopped on the first flight out here.”

“You didn’t have to do that…”

“It’s already done. Now…” She raises her closed fists. “Point me at him.”

I collapse against her again, burying my face in her shoulder as tears finally spill out.

“Okay… I guess I arrived just in time,” she says, patting my back. “What happened?”

“I just got fired,” I say, my voice muffled.

“Because of John?”

“Because of John... and me, I guess.”

She deflates and leads me to the couch. “Sit down. I’ll make us some coffee.”

I fall against the pillows, hugging them tight. “There’s some whiskey in the fridge!”

“I’ll make us some Irish coffee, then...”

Chapter 23

John

I pause, trying to remember how many drinks I’ve had but I just can’t. Usually, this means I should stop drinking. This is especially true tonight. The final game is tomorrow. I should be downing protein shakes and carbs to fuel up in preparation but that just doesn’t quite give me the same buzz I need to make it through every hour of the day.

As always, the last pre-game party of the year is the largest. The house itself lurches on its foundation and I don’t envy the cleanup Ty and Grant will have to do tomorrow, but it’s usually worth it.
Usually
. Tonight, I just can’t bring myself to give a shit.

Grant walks up and lays a hand on my shoulder. I prepare for some of his unique brand of sass, but to my surprise, he says nothing. He just offers me a kind nod before slipping another cup of beer into my empty hand.

“Thanks, man,” I mutter, taking a sip.

He wanders off and I sink a little deeper into the couch while I stare at my phone. No returned texts. No emails. Rose wasn’t messing around when she told me to disappear. She’s officially crossed me out of her life.
Denying my existence
, as she put it before.

As my fingers swipe and tap out another text, a shape rushes through my peripheral vision. Short, blonde. It’s so common and familiar that I can’t help but twitch in its direction.

I shake it off and take another drink, staring hard into the emerging bottom of my cup. As I lower it down, she passes in front of me again across the house and stops as soon as her eyes lock on me.