Free Johnny Deeper: A Sports Romance by Tabatha Kiss Page A

pays for her coffee and leaves, but not before offering Douglas a kind goodbye and my chest tightens.
    Word in the quad is that Dougie’s already two out of three.
    Apparently, he just needs a teacher.
    Looks like he found one.
    I step out of line and tail close behind her as she heads through the quad towards the student union. Once we round the corner, far away from Douglas and that damn coffee cart, I clear my throat.
    “Hey, Ms. Hawthorne,” I greet.
    Rose peeks back at me over the rim of her disposable cup. “Hey, John,” she smiles.
    “Where are you off to?”
    She swallows a mouthful of coffee. “I’m on my way home, actually.”
    “Got any fun plans tonight?”
    “Oh, yeah ,” she says, pausing her stride. “I have a paper to research for and I still have about half of Wednesday’s quizzes to grade. Should be a blast.”
    “So, you’re not going out or anything with anybody or nothing?”
    She raises a brow. “No.”
    “Cool.”
    Her lips twitch. “How about you?”
    “Me? No. Well… I usually make an appearance at the pre-game football parties. There’s one tonight at Ty’s…”
    “Cool.”
    “So, do you know Douglas?”
    She stiffens. “Who?”
    I point a thumb over my shoulder. “Douglas Floyd. I saw you talking to him at the coffee cart.”
    “Oh… that guy?” She shakes her head, chuckling softly. “Uh, no. He just walked up to me and asked for my number. One of the perils of being a pretty girl on a college campus, unfortunately.”
    I breathe a hidden sigh of relief. “I see…”
    “Why?” she smiles. “You’re not jealous, are you?”
    “Me? Jealous? Pfft. Hell no…” I pause. “But I might have the urge to drag you inside and bend you over something sturdy.”
    “You really are just a caveman, aren’t you?”
    “Does that turn you on?”
    “Kind of,” she shrugs.
    “Then, yes, ” I wink, drawing a laugh from her that leaves a little bliss in me. “Come on. Let’s go find a study room in the library. I’ve got a healthy supply of calculators in my pocket just dying to solve some maths.”
    Rose presses her lips together. “I actually have a lot of work to do tonight, John.”
    “How about later, then?” I ask. “You should come to the party, have a few drinks.”
    She squints. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
    “Why?”
    “You know why, John.”
    I take a short step back. “Right. Sorry.”
    “Are you okay?” she asks.
    “Yeah, I’m fine.” I nod a few times too many. “You know me. It’s all good.”
    She nods and turns away. “I’ll see you on Monday, John. Good luck at the game.”
    “Yeah. Bye, Ms. Hawthorne.”
    What the fuck was that?
    The caveman comparison doesn’t end with my desire to fuck a lot — that was some straight-up territorial shit. Rose isn’t even mine to claim and I go apeshit at the slightest wink in her direction from another guy?
    This isn’t just any guy, though. This is Douglas Floyd. The prick to end all pricks. The scum on the bottom of my shoe. Just the thought of him laying his filthy hands on her makes me nauseous.
    But come on, this is Rose Hawthorne. She would never go out with a guy like Douglas. No way. That still hasn’t changed so I have nothing to worry about. She’s still my Rose.
    My Rose?
    Nope. Wrong again, Johnny.
     
    ***
     
    These parties used to be more fun.
    I look around Ty’s living room, staring into the blissful faces of my teammates and classmates and perfect strangers and wonder why everything feels so different.
    The party hasn’t changed. It’s still the same people, the same cheap beer, the same pre-game ritual, but…
    I’m just not into it this time.
    I toss my half-empty cup into the trash can and round the corner towards the front door to go out and get some air, only to come face-to-face with Grant’s smug mug.
    “Hello, Johnny,” he says, smiling at me.
    “Hey,” I say through gritted teeth.
    “What’s wrong with you?”
    I raise a brow.