The Beautiful Game

Chapter Sixteen - Carter

    He's got a death wish. The little shit has got a fucking death wish.

    Like it hadn't been bad enough coming over with his little buddy and trying to get a reaction bringing up the cocaine shit. And yes, Seamus had taken it. A few times in freshman year, with a bad batch of fraternity guys and more money than sense. But, Coach had dragged Seamus in his office faster than the stuff had even entered his system. It was a huge issue, enforced blood and piss testing, letters sent home and Seamus got reassigned roommates. The roommates being Marcus and myself.

   At first he was just like a big spoilt brat who didn't realise his potential, but eventually, he saw how good he could really be, and he hasn't touched it since. Sure, he still partied and rare, occasional fucker's like that ice jockey would give him shit, nonetheless it was only ever alcohol these days.

   Yet still, the creep has now stopped Lou on her way back from the bathroom and God dammit, I'm walking towards them before Lou even had chance to respond to whatever cheesy line he'd been trying to feed her.

   "We're leaving, Blondie." The moment I'm at her side, I take her hand and she doesn't stop me, she lets me pull her away from the drunk hockey player. I ignore the tingling sensation between our warm palms as they connect, and I don't stop walking until we're outside the front of King's and stood beneath the lamppost while we wait for Ella, Marcus, Kate, and Seamus gather their stuff to follow us out.

   We make it about five steps to the side of Marcus's pick up before her hand is wriggled from mine, I hear a puff of exasperation and when I look back her face is neither relieved nor thankful as I'd been expecting. She just looks annoyed.

   "What?"

   "I didn't need rescuing Carter." She's infuriating. This wasn't like when I'd led her away from Doyle at that stupid party, I was officially off mission 'get inside Blondie's pants'. It was just instinct to protect her, to stop people from hassling her. I mean, even with no makeup and drowning in that sweatshirt, she was gorgeous; the ice hockey team eyeballing her had just gotten on my last nerve.

    "That guy's a jerk."

    "I got that."

    "Well, he doesn't deserve to hear the butter joke, so I thought I'd intervene." She glances down at her iPhone screen.

   "Eight minutes. You managed eight minutes before mocking me for that." She crosses her arms against her chest and turns to face the front door of Kings, watching and waiting for the girls to appear so she can make her escape. It didn't matter how many times I saw Lou, it was still such a bizarre feeling, being with a girl who didn't edge closer or undress me with her eyes.

    "I'm not mocking you it was funny, you're funny." She turns around, one of her eyebrows raised as she stares me down, I swear my heart does a weird little skip in my chest when she glares at me like that. It's disconcerting and hot at the same time.

    "You said that like you were comforting a sad circus clown." I rub the back of my neck and lean against Marcus's pick-up.

    "Jesus Blondie, I'm trying to pay you a compliment."

    "Why?" Yes, why Carter?

    "Because I like you." What are you even doing? It was apparent that Lou was a closed book, and despite her efforts it was obvious that she'd wanted to be here less than I had. She narrows her eyes at me, her gaze as challenging as ever.

   "You like me?"

    "Sure, and that's new for me because you're kind of uptight." She blinks slowly, blushing, and I swear I can see the cogs turning in the depth of her blue eyes.