Chapter 8

Bella

My stomach growls, and I gnaw at my lip, staring down the hallway to Drew’s room as though a mythical being might appear any minute. But there’s nothing. Nothing has moved down that hallway since Drew walked down it last night, leaving me with nothing but naughty thoughts and confused expectations.

What the hell had gotten into him?

Drew was cocky, angry, and…Well…Hot. It felt like he was taking control of the situation for the first time and then just as I thought we were getting to the good part, he walked out like it was nothing. Now he’s left me sitting here, stewing in thoughts that are far from appropriate, and I don’t know what to do.

The only explanation I have is that he’s freezing me out after I challenged his manhood, and this is my punishment. To die, malnourished without any bathroom breaks. Easy for him to be so casual about it. He’s got everything he needs in his room: a bathroom and a bed. Hell, I bet he’s even got a secret stash of Flamin’ Hot Doritos like Marissa. He’ll roll through this snowstorm like it’s a breeze on a sunny day. The only evidence of my time here will be my skeleton with this stupid snotty cast on.

I knew I was hard to live with, but I didn’t realize forty-eight hours would drive him to such regret over helping me that he was willing to let me die of starvation while I spent far too long thinking about his manhood.

What’s eating away at me slowly though, is not that he walked out angry but that he left me with some heavy innuendos. He said he couldn’t stop thinking about me in the shower, or at least that’s what he heavily implied, and it was right after talking about how big he was downstairs. I’d never really tempted fate and thought about Drew’s manhood before, but now that he’s brought it up, I can’t stop thinking about it.

Which I’m guessing is the point.

He wants to punish me. To let me fester in my own thoughts because I’m a prickly bitch around him and can’t say please or thank you. Maybe I should have been more hospitable, considering he’s the only reason I’m breathing right now, but even if I wanted to, it’s too late. Drew’s not leaving his room anytime soon.

My stomach growls again, and as much as I want to go into the kitchen and cook some of Jacob’s frozen meals, I’m concerned I’ll burn the house down, knowing my culinary skills. Sadly, I need Drew’s help, and I think the only way I will get it is to knock on his door and ask for it.

Sighing, I scrape my hand across my face and stare at the abyss leading to Drew’s door. I guess I’m going to have to make the first move. I roll over, grab my crutches, and head to his room. My body heats as I walk past the bathroom as I remember how it all ended for me last time, and I'm exhausted by the time I get to Drew’s door. Maybe Drew was right. I need to eat more to maintain my muscle mass.

As I lean against his door to catch my breath, I can hear him talking to someone on the other side.

I should probably leave him to his conversation, but much like the other day when playing that video game, curiosity gets the better of me because I want to know if Jacob is outing me.

Leaning my ear against the wood, I strain to listen.

“I know, Ma. I’m sorry, too.” Drew sighs. Even with just those few words, I can hear the exhaustion lacing his voice.

“Aunt Kelly is still coming on Christmas Day, right? Good. Also, did some packages arrive for me? Yeah, they’re your gifts. I planned on wrapping them once I got home.”

He sighs again, and my heart prickles with something other than resentment.

“No, don’t wait for me. I won’t be able to come back for a couple of months now. I know. It would have been nice to spend Christmas together for once.”

For once.

Those two words ring in my head because all I can think about is Drew as a little kid spending Christmas alone.

I roll my back onto the door and drop my head against it, making as little noise as possible. I close my eyes and focus on my breathing. Here I am, frantically thinking about myself and how much this has ruined my Christma s, that I forgot his was ruined too. Drew could have dropped me off at the hospital and driven home in that stupid G Wagon of his. He could be with his mom right now, spending potentially his first Christmas with her, but instead, he’s stuck with me. He only stayed to help me, and I repaid him by being a prickly, snooping bitch.

Leaning on my crutches, I make my way back to the living room and plop down onto the couch, thinking about everything I’ve put him through the last couple of days. Guilt sits heavy in my stomach, and the glaring fact that I couldn’t even spit out a thank you makes me feel uneasy. I don’t think of myself as a particularly mean person, hard-shelled – yes, but mean? No. However, my attitude has been too harsh, even for me.

Today, I need to be different. I can’t keep making snarky comments under my breath while he helps me. Mainly because he deserves better treatment and getting him angry risks him saying more confusing things that will have me up until I can leave this place. It’s Christmas tomorrow, and as much as it pains me to admit it, I need to make sure Drew’s day isn’t terrible.

Scanning the room, I see the board games sitting in the cubby under the TV. Maybe I can entice him to play since there’s no football on today. Hobbling over to the games, I grab the Monopoly board and toss it toward the coffee table. Then I crawl (because it’s easier than using my crutches again) over to the fireplace. After turning the fire on, I crawl back to the sofa and set up the game. Looking closer, I laugh because this isn’t a normal Monopoly game. It’s a St. Michael’s tribute version.

There’s no dog or top hat for the pieces, so I grab the pizza piece for me and the football one for Drew, and dish out the cash, tucking it slightly under the board so it doesn’t fly away. After setting everything up, I wipe my hands off and sit back. With the snow falling outside and the fireplace as the only light, the room is cozy, and if I were with anyone else, I’d say, it almost feels romantic. Maybe this is why Drew prefers to stay off Frat Row. It’s easier to impress Brianna in a quiet house like this than around a bunch of drunken college kids.

My gaze drifts to the hallway for the slightest second before dropping to the game. It’s been thirty minutes since I eavesdropped on Drew, and he still hasn’t made a peep. My curiosity grows with each passing minute.

Is he still talking to his mom? Or is he talking to someone else? Brianna maybe? I run my hand across my face, remembering that I still haven’t told him I talked to Jacob, pretending to be him. No doubt Jacob will out me soon, so I should just admit it to Drew before he confronts me. It’s not like I found out anything juicy. I still have no idea who Jacob was talking about, or why Drew’s hung up on a girl I’m almost certain he hasn’t seen in three years because as far as I know, all the girls in our high school class are across the country, not thinking about Drew.

It all starts to make sense why he is so unwilling to commit to Brianna. He is clearly too hung up on some random girl from Tampa Bayshore High to think about anyone else. I never thought Drew would settle for a girl back home. I always imagined him marrying a supermodel while becoming the best quarterback in the league. There’s no denying that he’s one of the hottest guys I’ve ever met. That’s why girls hang off him. They know he’s a catch, but they don’t know he’s interested in someone else.

But who is it?

And why do I care so much?

Still waiting, I toy with the silver football token, kicking the bicycle piece with it out of boredom.

Now what? He’s not coming out, so all I can do is watch Hallmark movies on TV, and I’m tired of being reminded that the grumpy enemies eventually fall in love and get a happy ending because I know that will never happen to me.

I still.

My eyes widen.

Did I just think that?

My lips contort. My stomach rolls.

Did I want a happy ending with Drew?!

Even thinking about it makes my brain throb, and I toss the player piece back into the box because this whole playing nice thing is pointless. Drew’s not coming out. He’d rather starve himself before he dared look at my face again.

But then I hear the click of his door, and I raise my chin, eagerly expecting his presence.

His feet drag across the wood as he slowly makes his way to the living room. When he finally makes his presence known, his hair is a mess, and he tiredly scratches the back of his neck. You’ve gotta be kidding me.

He’s been asleep this whole time?!

I frown, annoyed that I’ve been waiting up, worried that I was going to starve to death because he was refusing to leave his room. All the while, he was sleeping.

Drew stops in his steps, looks around the room, and gives me a quizzical glare. “Morning, B,” he says cautiously.

“Morning ended three hours ago,” I clip.

Used to my petulance, he ignores my attitude and steps farther into the room. “What’s all this?”

Fiddling with my hands, I lean back and huff out a breath. Now that he’s here, standing in front of me, it feels near impossible to be nice. What’s wrong with me? Do I not have the capacity to be nice to him? “Thought you’d be more in the mood for Monopoly today, since there’s nothing else to do.”

“Okay.” He sounds hesitant, but I don’t question it. I would be too, if I were him. He strolls into the kitchen, gets a drink, and tosses a soda can my way. When I catch it, my stomach rumbles, and I know he hears it from the look on his face.

“Should have known. You haven’t eaten, have you?”

My face heats, and I pop the can open as I shake my head. “No.”

Sighing, he pulls out a pan. “Alright. I’ll make you an omelet if you do one thing for me?” I lift my brows in answer. “You can’t be the car token.”

“There isn’t one.” I lift the box, showing him the front. “This is some kind of St. Michael’s tribute version. I got the football one out for you.”

He laughs, cracking eggs without a care. “Of course it is. Jacob’s obsession with this place is ridiculous. Did you know he gave up on his dream girl just to attend?”

I’m silent because I don’t know if he’s trolling me or not since that was the exact conversation Jacob and I had.

“I had no idea,” I call his bluff.

“Yeah, they were neighbors when they were kids. He was too chickenshit to make a move, and then her parents divorced, so she moved to the other side of town with her mom. Broke his thirteen-year-old heart. They reconnected in high school but were pulled apart again by college.”

“Sounds like some nineties TV drama.” Okay, so judging by that admission, Jacob hasn’t said anything. I’m safe for now. “Sounds like Jacob needs to find someone else. That girl sounds flightier than a retiring pilot,” I mutter.

Drew grins, narrowing his eyes at me. “Who hurt you, Bella?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re just so angry at the world. Did Jimmy really break your heart that badly?”

I puff out a breath. “No, of course not.”

“Are you sure? I remember how upset you were at the end of prom when a couple of his online dates showed up.”

I roll my eyes and crunch my fingers together. “Why do you always have to remind me of prom? Is it not enough that you taunted me on the day? It’s like you have to bring it up hourly just to remind me how inferior I am to you.”

“You thought I was taunting you at prom?”

“Everyone was taunting me, Drew.”

“I wasn’t.”

“Oh, please. No one would have known if you hadn’t followed me outside with Jimmy.”

“I followed you outside because I could tell you were upset, and I wanted to help.”

“You wanted to help?” I hold back a laugh. He can’t be serious. “You’ve never wanted to help me in my life.”

“Listen to yourself, Bella. Listen to what you’re saying while I cook you breakfast in my house after saving you from near death.”

I swallow, knowing I need to say thank you, but still stubbornly holding my tongue. I’m always on edge with Drew, just waiting for his next retort.

“I came outside at prom because when I saw you were upset, I wanted you to know that you didn’t have to settle for a guy like Jimmy.” He runs his tongue across his teeth. “I didn’t realize that people were following me or that Jimmy had several dates waiting for him outside. Believe me, I wanted to throttle the guy when I realized what he’d done. No girl deserves to be treated like they are second best, especially you.” His words and demeanor are calm, but they make me want to wither away and melt because that’s a completely different version of events than I remember.

“So, you didn’t bring everyone out there to laugh at me?”

“I might be an ass, but never to you, B.” He stares at me as though I should be able to read between the lines. “In fact, I made sure Jimmy found out rather quickly just how badly he screwed up.”

The implication hangs heavy in the air, but I’m still digesting his first confession. He didn’t try to embarrass me at prom. He was following me out. But why? I feel his hot gaze on me as he watches me digest his words, and I gulp, not liking what I’m starting to piece together. Blowing out a breath, I try to refocus the conversation away from the worst night of my life. “Do you really think this good guy act will make me forget about our game?” I point down to the setup board. “I’m ready to take all your money.”

“Fine, B,” he laments, and I silently sigh in relief that he’s willing to drop the subject. “Just let me finish your omelet, then I’ll let you whoop my ass.”

“I can’t believe it.” I stare at the board game, wondering where all my money went while Drew counts his, flaunting the colorful paper in my face. “How did this happen?”

“I believe it happened when you sold me The Stumble Inn Tavern and expected some kind of long-term rental agreement after purchase.” Rolling my eyes, I look at my few menial dollars, knowing no amount of passing GO will fix this. “From then on, you were too focused on the money you didn’t have, rather than collecting properties outside of Frat Row.”

He has a point. My attention was off kilter because I wasn’t focusing on the game. I was too busy concentrating on him. We were having such a good time, talking about mutual friends and the good old days in high school that I forgot my strategy and lost.

Hang on a minute: was that Drew’s strategy all along? Soften me up, so I don’t notice when he takes me down.

Narrowing my eyes, I stare at his large hands, palming the money. “Don’t get smart with me, McCallister. You cheated. That’s the only explanation.”

He laughs, adjusting the bill of his hat. “I don’t need to cheat to be a winner, babe.” I suck in a breath, annoyed that the way he says babe doesn’t annoy me as much as I know it should. He twists the silver football token in his hand, not caring where it’s supposed to be on the board because we both know he’s won at this point. “But who knows, maybe it’s the silver cleat bringing me luck.”

“Is that why you didn’t want me to use the car?”

He drops the shoe, leans back, and looks a little despondent. “Nah, that’s not the reason. I just don’t like anyone using it.”

“Okay,” I drawl out and throw my two bucks on the board with a long, exaggerated stretch. “I think we’ve played enough for tonight. We should probably call it quits.”

“Sure. I assume it’s because we’ve been playing for over three hours that you want to quit, not because you're going to lose on your next dice roll?”

“Nothing to do with that. This version is ridiculous anyway. Who’s going to pay two hundred bucks to attend a football game?” I flick at the corner with the stadium on it.

“Plenty of people, trust me.”

“If we were playing the real version, I would have whooped your ass.”

“It’s the same game.”

“Yeah, but this one gives me bad mojo. It’s too focused on St. Michael’s, and you’re the campus king.”

Drew grabs his chest, and I notice he’s wearing a tight, white shirt for the first time tonight. I can see the clear outline of his brown nipples, and now that I’ve noticed, I can’t stop looking. They’re so…so…pert, and pointy, and -. “Sorry, Bella. I must have misheard, but was that a compliment?”

I force my hanging mouth shut and look back at my reluctant host. “It wasn’t a compliment. It was a fact. I bet I'd win if we were playing the real version.”

“Good thing we won’t be playing that anytime soon then.”

I smile. “Oh, Drew. Are you scared I might win?” He grumbles. “How about this? I’ll even let you have your good luck charm car as your piece if we play. Give you all the advantages in the world.”

I hold out my hand, smiling from ear to ear, but that fades when I realize he’s not smiling back. In fact, it’s more of a frown. “The car isn’t my good luck charm.”

“Oh. Then why didn’t you want me to use it?”

“The same reason I didn’t want to play Monopoly with you in the first place. I used to play it with my dad.”

There’s a pause in the conversation, and when Drew looks at me and realizes I’m not going to say anything, he continues, “My dad and I played board games every Friday night. We’d have a college game on in the background and talk about our week. His favorite game was Monopoly , and he was always the car. I just wouldn’t feel right playing with it with someone else.” “Sorry,” I mumble out, embarrassed that I even suggested it. “I didn’t mean to force you into it.”

“You didn’t. I could have said no. Maybe a small part of me wanted to move on, and you allowed me to do it.” His eyes flick up and meet mine for barely a second, but I see a vulnerability behind them that I’ve never seen before.

“What happened to him?” He lifts his gaze, looking at me with surprise. “I don’t know. I never asked my dad because I thought it was too personal.”

“He died of cancer when I was eight.” I take in a sharp inhale, and Drew shrugs. “It wasn’t unexpected. I remember sitting down with my parents when I was five and them explaining to me what chemo was.”

My heart plummets, and it’s probably good that my cast is heavy on my leg because it stops me from rounding the table and hugging him. “Drew, I’m so sorry. No child should have to go through that.”

“Not your fault,” he says through a contorted smile. “At least I had him for an extra three years after that. Three more years than we expected.” Cracking his knuckles, he’s lost in his thought, and I watch in awe, seeing a completely different side to Drew. “You know he loved football and went to St. Michael’s? My goal after he passed away was to play varsity in high school because I thought that would honor his memory. I never thought I’d actually be playing at his college for his team. Glad I can fulfill our dreams, even if he’s not around to watch me.” I bite my bottom lip, holding back what feels like tears because yeah, my dad can feel a little absent at times, but at least he’s alive. “But you know, none of these dreams would have come through for me if I hadn’t had help.”

I look up at him, and it’s one of the first times he holds my gaze to watch me.

My heart rate spikes, and I feel a little self-conscience because I wonder if he can see the emotion threatening to spill behind my eyes. “Not having my dad around for those big moments in high school was hard, but having someone rooting for me like Coach Summers on the sidelines made coping with that so much easier. So I just want to say thank you, Isabella Summers.” I can see the sincerity in his words as his gaze locks with mine. It’s too much, but for some strange reason, I can’t look away. I don’t even think I want to.

“What for?”

“For sharing your dad with me all these years.

I open my mouth, willing myself to say something, but I don’t know what because he has no idea that that’s why I’ve hated him all these years. And now I feel pretty darn pathetic about being so petty because at least my dad is around to be annoyed at. Drew has had to navigate his teen years without his and watch his mom struggle to support them. I had no issues, and almost a perfect life, so what am I complaining about? That my father has his own dreams he’s pursuing that sometimes means he can’t focus on mine? Or maybe that I’m too scared to go on my own adventures, and use my dad’s workaholic nature to get around trying for things I really want.

Like staying in London.

“Bella?”

“Mmhmm?” No other words leave my mouth because the weight of this conversation feels too heavy.

“Can I ask you something?”

“I guess.”

“Why didn’t you stay in London after high school?” He raises his hands when he sees me bristle. “I’m not asking out of spite or anything. It’s just your dad always talked about how London was your dream, and he was worried you’d meet some British Prince or something and never come back.”

I laugh, shaking my head. “I didn’t go out there looking for love. I went out there looking for myself.”

“Did you find her?” he asks with a genuine smile.

“No. Didn’t stay out there long enough. I just wanted to find who I was apart from being Coach Summers’ daughter.”

“And you thought coming to St. Michael’s, where he coaches one of the best college football teams in the country, would help with that goal?”

“Honestly? I didn’t have much choice. I get a scholarship with room and board included because my dad is on the faculty. It was a no-brainer that I came here instead of a college in London. The exchange rate will kill you.”

“But this isn’t where you want to be?”

I smile softly, letting out a low chuckle. “Spending Christmas locked in a jock house with you is never where I thought I’d be, but are any of us really where we want to be?”

Drew crosses his arms, smiling faintly. “I believe in fate. Therefore, I’m where I think I should be.”

“Of course you are. You live and breathe football. Indiana is home to one of the best football legacies in college history. Your dad went here. My dad coaches here. This place is perfect for you. But London. Well, London has drizzle, history and cool accents. London had everything I wanted, and most importantly, London didn’t have football as we know it.”

Drew smirks. “For someone who hates football so much, you sure do let it make a lot of decisions in your life.”

“No, I don’t.”

He raises a brow. “I’ve said it before, and I know you’re going to hate me for it, but isn’t that why you decided to date Jimmy during senior year?”

I purse my lips in annoyance. “No.”

“You sure?”

“Yes, I am, thank you very much. I dated Jimmy because I was tired of being alone and watching my friends go on dates while I sat at home waiting for someone to show interest in me.”

His face falls. “Is that what you thought? That guys didn’t want to date you?”

I shrug. “I was a late bloomer. I didn’t need a bra until I was seventeen, and my braces didn’t come off for a few months after that. Combine that with an inability to wear contacts, and you’ve got the recipe for a She’s All That style makeover. My dad always told me it was because I was intimidating and it would probably take until college for guys to see my worth.”

Drew chuckles. “Can’t believe you were so gullible. That’s not true at all. We all saw your worth in high school, B, but no one was willing to go against Coach Summers in fear of being benched.”

I roll my eyes. “You don’t need to make me feel better by rewriting the truth.”

“I’m not. Do you remember the freshman formal?”

“How could I forget?” I say sarcastically. “I went with Tony Scheffler because he was the only guy to ask me. It was my first date, but sadly, it ended when my hair got caught in his braces.” I wince, remembering the blood, but Drew howls in laughter. “It’s not funny. That’s why I had that stupid mullet for the rest of the year. I can’t say I’m shocked no one asked me out after that.”

“I liked the mullet; it looked like the cut Miley Cyrus got. I think it gave you an edge.”

I blow out a breath and cover my face. “Yeah, I’m sure you loved it because it was easy to mock me.”

“Nah, B. I liked it because I liked you.” My head shoots up. Did he just say what I think he did?

“Excuse me?” I choke out.

He’s got to be kidding. He’s just trying to make me feel better. Drew tips his chin and laughs. “Yeah, I know. It was back in the day before I knew just how much you hated me. Clearly, I’d had too many knocks in the head at that point. I thought you were avoiding me because you liked me, too.” My pulse quickens, and the little hairs on the back of my neck rise as he watches my every move, because, crap, had I made it obvious that I thought he was the hottest guy in our high school? “But I was young and na?ve then. I was even planning on asking you to that stupid dance.”

“What stopped you from asking?” Although I can barely feel it, my toes are tipping in my cast, anxiously waiting for his answer.

“Same thing that stopped me from asking you to prom senior year. Someone else got there first.”

Was I dreaming? Drew liked me in high school? I so badly want to ask more questions, but I don’t know where to start. My brain is too hung up on replaying things that make no sense. I liked it because I liked you. That couldn’t have been what he said. I’m just delirious or something.

“Anyway, enough of all this mushy stuff.” Drew waves his hand dismissively. “I’m going to go to bed.”

“But it’s not even six yet.” It’s all I can say because I’m still trying to process everything else.

“And tomorrow is Christmas, so I need to be prepared.”

As he stands, his gray sweatpants brush against my side, and I take in a sharp breath, not knowing why that move just gave me goosebumps.

I tuck an errant hair behind my ear, and look down at my fidgety hands. Looking at Drew feels a little too hard after his revelations. Without warning, his warm hand drops to my knee, just brushing the edge of his long football shorts. I am still wearing them because they are so roomy.

“Bella?” he says, low and husky, which finally forces my attention up. When our eyes connect, I think looking at him might have been a mistake because I don’t ever want to stop. He’s just so magnificently beautiful, and his dark eyes say so much without saying anything at all.

“Yeah?”

His body shifts as he leans in, and instinctively, I move back, but with all the sofa pillows behind me, I have nowhere to go.

He knows it, too.

He drops closer and just as I think he’s going to press his lips against mine, he diverts, leaving the gentlest of kisses on the corner of my lips, just as his hand squeezes my thigh.

“Good night.”

That’s it.

The cool air replaces his warm hand skating across my skin, and I’m left withering like wilted lettuce on his sofa.

He gets up without a second thought, or another glance, and strides down the hallway, leaving me a little wet and tainted at his antics.

Swallowing down the anxiousness, I shove my thighs together and manage to squeak out, “Goodnight, Drew,” before his form disappears into the darkness.

When I hear his door shut, I fall down onto the sofa, puffing out a breath and staring at the ceiling.

Does he know what he’s doing to me? He must. He’s teasing me because he knows he can.

Thousands of questions whirl through my mind but I don’t have the guts to ask him any of them.

So instead of confronting my demons and asking Drew what the hell is going on between us, I let them sit in the room with me, taunting me as I try to sleep while it’s still light out.

What the hell have I gotten myself into?