Chapter Thirteen

Chessly

I arrived back on campus a few days before the start of spring semester. Good thing I had dorm business, like making new door tags and setting up programming for my floor to keep me busy since my friends had abandoned me. For football players.

Texting Piper to meet up for drinks was a bust. When she came back to town a couple of days into the New Year, she started dating— dating —Wyatt Baxter. Stunning. After she texted him with our antics on New Year's Eve, they'd apparently started talking all the time, and things between them were escalating into the realm of Callahan and Jamaica.

Jamaica made it to RA meetings. When I'd walked down her hall to see if she wanted to join me at Pickle Barrel for a sandwich for lunch on my second day back, I'd seen her cute new door tags with a cartoon theme, so she was keeping up her RA duties. The mystery was how she did that when she spent all her time with Callahan at the big old Victorian on Jock Street.

Thinking of that house brought back memories of the last time I'd been in it. I wanted to lie to myself and say those memories didn't haunt me at least once a day, but that hadn't worked all through break. On more than one occasion, I'd had to drag my thoughts away from that night on Finn's couch and how much farther we'd have gone if not for the untimely arrival of that pack of freshmen.

How much farther I'd wanted to go.

Crap! What was wrong with me that I was hung up on a guy who couldn't say no to any female attention, no matter how calculating it was? Either he was super na?ve or super egotistical with neither characteristic flattering him.

As I tucked the half a hoagie I'd saved from lunch into my dorm fridge, a third possibility popped into my head. Maybe Finn was a genuinely nice guy—one who didn't want to hurt anyone's feelings. That would explain why he struggled to extricate himself from social scrapes with women and never seemed able to make the right call.

After I hung up my jacket and kicked off my boots, I settled against the headboard of my narrow dorm bed and stared out at the snowflakes swirling beyond the window. That third possibility tripped me up, big-time. Because if Finn wasn't clueless, I couldn't write him off. If he wasn't egotistical, I couldn't put him down. I'd never been one of those girls who wanted to tame the bad boy, bring out his inner Boy Scout or some nonsense. I was a sucker for nice guys.

But if he truly was a nice guy, how did that explain his relationship with Tory Miller? When he dropped me off in front Hanover after the bonfire, I'd had the distinct impression he wanted to kiss me. Then Tory showed up, screeching in her most entitled voice, and he'd defended her. When her posse showed up at his house right as we were getting busy on the couch, he'd jumped right on their cookie offering. With his attention all caught up in those girls and their snacks, he'd made it disappointingly easy to call a ride, put on my coat, and leave.

Thunking my head back against the headboard, I ground my teeth at my own stupidity. As a scientist, observation came naturally to me. As a woman, I couldn't help but notice Finn's handsome face and powerful body. Until that night at the start of finals week, my interactions with him had always included other people, specifically other women who found him every bit as attractive as I did. He liked that attention. Of course he did. If he made himself exclusive with one woman, some of that attention would disappear.

Even nice guys liked to be admired. No wonder he couldn't figure out how to straddle the line between pursuing one woman and maintaining the interest of several more. Yet he'd treated me like I was special, giving me his hoodie when he noticed I was cold, playing the perfect host with hot chocolate and conversation when I returned it. The look on his face when he stood in the open door of his house as I walked away—a look that implied I'd taken something else of his when I left—still had me second-guessing myself and my responses that night.

Usually, I liked the quiet of the dorm before everyone arrived for the start of a new semester. The anticipation of new people and classes and possibilities exhilarated me. Today, all I noticed was the weird silence of a mostly empty building and the snow falling straight down. Without a car, I was basically stuck by myself.

"This is ridiculous," I said into the emptiness of my room.

Swinging my legs over the side of the bed, I stood and stretched then pulled out my desk chair. I had a couple of days before the semester began and syllabi for all my classes. Might as well get a head start on my course reading. As I pulled up some articles on my computer, I chuckled to myself. Reading ahead was Jamaica's thing. She'd finally rubbed off on me.

"Finn asked about you when I was over at the house the other night," Jamaica said as we sat in the Union for our afternoon coffee date the first week of classes. "I was so distracted with all the Tory Miller drama during finals, I think I missed the part where the two of you apparently hooked up." Her narrowed eyes demanded I spill all the tea.

"Who told you that?"

"I might have overheard Bax and him talking about it."

"Bax is clueless. I returned Finn's hoodie. Then a bunch of jersey chasers showed up with cookies ‘for the boys,'" I added with air quotes. "Bax came home right behind them, and I left. End of story." I busied myself with removing the lid of my cup, blowing on my coffee, and refitting the lid before taking a sip.

She leaned toward me. "You're hiding something."

I gave her my coolest raised-brow response and kept my mouth shut.

My friend didn't buy it. "I'll get it out of you. You know that, don't you?"

With a shrug I said, "Nothing to get out of me. There's nothing going on between Finn McCabe and me." At least that much wasn't a lie.

Giving me a sage nod, she said, "Uh-huh. Famous last words."

I rolled my eyes.

"So, did you hear the big news?" Pure delight colored her tone. Before I could react to the abrupt change in subject, she plowed on. "The football program severed ties with Buzz Miller. He can give them money, but he can't influence NIL contracts, have any access to players or coaches, is barred from serving on any committees associated with the team, and has to issue a public apology to Callahan for all the trouble he caused last semester." She vibrated with giddy excitement.

"Seriously? I can't believe the university would be willing to do that to a major donor."

Jamaica's expression turned grave. "Callahan didn't give me all the details, but the team captains went to the head football coach and gave him an ultimatum. Apparently, this isn't the first time a Miller girl went after a football player with the intention of ruining his life by saddling him with her."

"Wow." I sat back in my chair. "I still can't believe any college administrator would willingly give up alumni cash."

"They will if they think accepting it on Buzz Miller's terms could cost them their jobs. Dr.Dair is on probation, and he lost tenure. He's lucky to still be teaching here after everything that went down last semester."

I laughed. "I hear a certain amount of satisfaction in your voice, you vindictive girl."

"Tory's the one who should be on probation." Jamaica sighed. "Her dad's money still has some influence."

"Guess that explains the exodus of freshman mean girls moving out of Hanover and into Delta Chi this semester." I rolled my cup between my palms. "Can't say I'll miss Tory's crowd. But I will give her props."

At Jamaica's stunned expression, I clarified. "At least she recruits the nasty ones like her, leaving the fun girls behind for us to hang out with. The atmosphere on my floor is already lighter in the first two weeks of the semester than it was at the end of last semester, and I only had two of those girls living in my hall."

"I asked that Tory be made persona non grata at Hanover. Hopefully, Becky agrees and sends her a letter."

"After everything that's gone down with that girl over the past two years, I can't imagine our supervisor doing anything less. Saves her almost as much stress as it saves us." I finished my coffee, stood, and walked the empty cup to a nearby trash can.

"That's enough Tory Miller for one day—or week—or month. If I never see that girl again, I'll consider myself having lived a charmed life." Hefting my backpack over my shoulder, I glanced toward the loud giggles coming from the main door into the common area of the Union. As though I'd conjured her with my words, in sashayed the devil herself with her little group of mean girls all surrounding one Finn McCabe.

"What was that you were saying earlier about Finn asking about me?" Nodding in the direction of the doorway, I said, "That might be the reason I don't believe it—and why you shouldn't believe anything you hear about Finn and me hooking up."

The man in question smiled at something one of the jersey chasers said to him. Then his gaze snagged on mine, and the smile dropped right off his face, replaced by an expression that looked a whole lot like guilt.

Jamaica stood beside me and shook her head in Finn's direction, her disappointment obvious in the set of her shoulders.

"I think I'll grab a coffee to-go," I said.

"I'd join you, but I'm headed down to the Sweet Shop for my shift."

"Looks like we're both avoiding a scene."

We exchanged a look as Jamaica gathered her things.

"See you at the RA meeting after dinner," she said as she headed to the stairwell on the opposite side of the commons.

I made my way to the back of the short line for coffee and pulled out my phone. Mindlessly scrolling social media let me appear as if I was ignoring Finn and the antics of the girls demanding his attention, while surreptitiously paying attention to him because I couldn't seem to help myself. Yet somehow I missed him moving to stand directly behind me as I placed my order.

"Make that two," he said over my shoulder to the barista behind the counter.

"Name?" the barista asked.

We answered simultaneously.

"Chessly."

"Finn."

"I can buy my own coffee. Thanks," I said letting the frost in my tone crackle in the air.

"Yeah, but I want to buy you a coffee." He smiled that contagious smile of his on purpose.

I fought not to return it. "You buying for all the girls you arrived with too?"

Confusion pulled his eyebrows together. "I'm not with any girls."

"Which totally explains that giggling group you walked in here with." I shook my head and pulled my wallet from my backpack.

Finn beat me to it, tapping his phone on the card reader.

"I'll pay you back." I went to pull some bills from my wallet, but he covered my hand with his.

"No need."

Tingles shot out in every direction from where his calloused palm met my skin, momentarily immobilizing me. Our eyes locked, and I swear I experienced a moment of entanglement. Until this second, I'd thought the orchestrated objective reduction theory of quantum consciousness was closer to science fiction than to physics, yet standing here with Finn's skin on mine, our gazes ensnared with each other, a sensation of awareness I couldn't explain nor deny shuddered through me.

"Finn! Two coffees for Finn!" a barista called, breaking the spell.

Flustered, I stuffed my wallet back into my backpack and stepped over to where two steaming café au laits waited.

"Thank you, but you didn't have to pay for this." After that fleeting encounter in front of the register, my tone had warmed up considerably and without my permission.

"I did if I wanted to talk to you. Which I do." He ushered me in front of him.

"What about your entourage?" I glanced behind him to see the jersey chasers glaring at us as they placed their orders. Curiously, Tory had vanished from the group.

"Chessly, I'm not with them. I came here to do some studying and ran into them at the bottom of the stairs outside. I'm totally not with them." The hitch in his voice pleaded with me to believe him.

"Okay."

He relaxed.

"What did you want to talk to me about?"

Tension returned to his shoulders. "That night before finals. I didn't invite those girls."

"Sure, Finn. Whatever you say." I started walking toward the main doors.

He fell into step beside me. "It's true. I didn't have a clue they were coming over."

Crowding me a little, he forced me to look at him. "And they didn't stay. We thanked them for their cookies and called an Uber to pick them up. If you don't believe me, ask Bax."

"Whatever. It seems wherever you are the jersey chasers will be there too."

"I don't seek them out. They find me." He followed me down the stairs and outside as I headed to the science building.

"Do they have a tracker on you or something?" I chuckled even though my comment wasn't actually funny.

Blowing out a breath, he said, "The next best thing. The college publishes our schedules."

I shot him a side-eye.

"It's true. Something about making sure people know we're student-athletes. Damn invasion of privacy if you ask me," he grumbled.

"Wow. Is that only for the football team or for all athletes?"

"Everyone on an athletic scholarship. If not for the fact that scholarship athletes get more playing time, I'd have taken the full academic one the university offered and walked on the team instead." He sipped his coffee as he ambled down the sidewalk beside me. "Where are we going?"

" I'm going to the science building," I said, trying to drop a hint. Then I stopped dead center in the sidewalk. "Wait. You were offered a full academic scholarship?"

The tips of his ears turned red, and I didn't think it was from the icy January air. "Uh, I did okay on the ACT, maybe graduated with a 4.0." He rubbed his hand over the back of his neck. "Are you headed to class right now?"

"No. I like to study in the science building." I resumed walking in the direction of Hillman Hall. "No wonder you're bio-chem," I said under my breath.

"Mind if I study with you?" The hope in his words left me no choice but to acquiesce. Saying no to those puppy-dog eyes he gave me would have felt like kicking a puppy. Besides, he bought me a coffee.

My acquiescence had nothing whatsoever to do with how hot he was or that he played my favorite sport or that I'd just discovered he was super-smart. It certainly had nothing to do with the weird connection that had passed between us in the Union—the one that had left phantom tingles skittering over my skin to center in my core like a gathering storm even as I merely walked along beside him.

Definitely not.