Chapter Four

Reed

It's past one in the morning when I glance at the clock on my computer monitor. Falling asleep feels impossible, and as expected, I find myself watching the ceiling fan spin as my thoughts scatter. An hour drifted by without a hint of sleep, so I turned to gaming, hoping it might wear me out enough to finally crash.

Morning practice will be brutal if I don't manage some shut-eye soon. Though it's always tough, I somehow drag myself through.

Something about nighttime keeps me awake. Oddly, I have no problem napping during the day, so I'm forced to rely on those brief escapes to power through.

A flash from my phone breaks my focus—a text from my mom. Our relationship is strained and has been for a long time. We're hardly on speaking terms. I know what she wants without even reading the message, so I don't bother.

She never asks about football, or how I earn money, or has any interest in the rest of my life. When I was younger, I wanted to impress her, or maybe it was more of an attempt to earn her affection, so I sent her money from my first paychecks. I don't know what I was thinking, though, because once she got what she wanted, she disappeared, only to reappear when she needed more.

I flip my phone over, covering the screen. Ignoring her now means I'll probably wake up to more texts in the morning, but I'm not in the mood to care right now.

Curiosity gets the better of me, and I slide my mouse over to the internet browser and begin typing the name that's been on my mind since she moved in last week. I add "Rixton, Tennessee," to refine the search. This time yields more results, including some photos of her along the top.

I hover over the images, noting they link back to various social media pages, and click through to her InstaPhoto page. The latest picture is of her and two girls. I recognize the redhead she was with the first time we met. Judging by the water in the background, they appear to be on the beach. She's wearing an emerald swimsuit with a gold ring at the bust matching the ties on her bikini bottoms.

Her skin is tan, although the redness of her cheeks and shoulders indicates she might've spent a little too much time in the sun. Yet her smile draws me in—I haven't seen her smile like that here. She looks carefree and genuinely happy.

My cursor hovers over the photo long enough for me to notice the other two girls are tagged. Kara and Blake are their names. I make a mental note to check out their pages later, hoping to learn more about my new roommate.

For several minutes, I find myself scrolling through her photos, pausing on each one to study the details and the people around her.

Eventually, I land on a photo of her with her ex, Wells Perry. The captions on her photos shifted from playful and lengthy to just a single heart on one featuring her and Perry. The comments range from telling her how beautiful she looks to how they look cute together, that sort of thing.

There are a few of her with Perry, but mostly it's her and her friends, and the rest range from outdoors, paintings and other artwork she's created, and a whole lot of baking.

She evidently loves to bake, judging by the various cakes, cookies, and cupcakes she's made.

Outside my room, I hear the floorboards creak, followed by the faint sound of a door closing. The hallway light seeps under my door. I quickly hit the X button and power down my monitors.

The sink turns off, and we both open the door at the same time, but she doesn't hear me coming. She lets out a startled yelp. I'd bet money one of the guys heard her, and now we're two seconds away from them hauling ass upstairs to check on her.

Tatum slaps a hand over her mouth, and without thinking, I pull her into my arms to reassure her it's okay. Everything happens so quickly; one moment, she's standing in front of me, and the next, I have her pinned against the wall.

"I'm sorry I scared you," I whispered, our bodies still close.

She nods, resting her hand over her heart while she struggles to catch her breath. "I'm sorry for screaming. I didn't hear you, and I wasn't expecting anyone. Did I wake you?"

I shake my head. "No, I was up. Couldn't sleep." I reluctantly drop my arm and take a step away, giving her space.

It's hard to ignore the pull I feel toward her. Sure, I've had my share of flings at college—what guy hasn't? But this is different. I've never once considered wanting anything more, though.

Something is different about Tatum, but I don't know what it is yet. I can't quite put my finger on what I feel toward her, but all I know is I keep finding myself wanting to get to know her. To be closer to her.

"Yeah, I guess I can't sleep either," she murmurs, and it dawns on me she's talking about having a hard time sleeping.

"Is it being here or something else?" I ask.

She shakes her head slightly, touching her fingertips to her lips, lost in thought, before her eyes lift to meet mine. "I guess I just have a lot on my mind, that's all."

"Do you want to talk about it?" I offer.

She tilts her head to the side. "Talk about it?" she repeats.

"Yeah, you know, have a conversation…" I realize she's surprised by that response, so I downplay it and add, "Isn't that what friends do?"

I take another step back, leaning against the wall across from her. I force myself to keep my eyes trained on her face even though, out of my peripheral vision, I notice she's wearing a tank top with shorts, and I don't think she's wearing a bra.

"I'm just feeling homesick, is all. Everything happened so fast," she admits.

"Maybe what you need is to get out and explore a bit," I suggest. "How about this? I'll take you out tomorrow after I get home from practice."

She perks up, and her eyes widen. "You will?"

"Yeah, I'll start by showing you around campus if you want. We can grab lunch, and then maybe we can check out this sports bar we like to hang out at after games."

She nods, her smile starting to reappear. "You'd do that for me?"

I want to tell her I'd do a lot just to see the smile on her face, but I don't. I keep it to myself.

"Absolutely. I have nothing else to do, and besides, if you haven't noticed, all my roommates have girlfriends. I could use someone to hang out with."

"That sounds great. If you don't mind, there's this bakery in town I saw was hiring. I'm thinking about putting in an application there."

"Sweet Tooth?"

Her eyes light up. "That's the one! Have you heard of it?"

"Colter's sister, Wyatt, works there. I'll introduce you, and I'm sure she'd happily put in a good word for you. Honestly, I could see the two of you hitting it off."

"She doesn't have to do that for me, but I'd love to meet her. I believe I saw the bakery when we went out to lunch the other day. I saw their job posting on the bulletin at school. Who knows how long the position will be open, so I want to try to get in there soon before someone snatches it up."

"We'll go there first thing tomorrow when they open, then."

She flings her arms around my waist, pulling me into a hug. I freeze for a moment before I relax, wrapping my arms around her.

"Thank you," she mumbles against me.

"For what?"

"For proving me wrong."

I chuckle at first, but the longer it sets in, the more I start to wonder what she means.

"Have I given you a different impression?"

She releases me and shakes her head. "That came out wrong. I guess I didn't know what to expect moving into a house with a bunch of guys. My track record with football players hasn't been that great. You've been really kind to me about it all, though, and just, thank you for offering to take me out and show me around."

I want to push her to clarify, but I feel like it goes deeper than her breakup.

"All right then, it's a date." Her eyes flash, and I chuckle. "A friend date."

"Don't get me wrong. It's not that I don't think you're a great guy, because from what I know about you so far, I think you are. It's just, I've done the whole dating thing, and I've sworn off relationships."

My chest rumbles with laughter. "Is that right?"

"That might be funny to you, but I'm dead serious. After college, I'm getting a couple of cats, maybe a bunny, and settling down to live life as an old maid."

I nod, pressing my lips together to fight off my smile.

"I'm serious. I'm gonna fill my house with plants, grow my own garden, and have a lawn full of random ornaments, lawn gnomes, and birdbaths. The whole nine yards."

Something about the visual has me picturing Tatum at seventy years old, sitting on her front porch, staring out at her yard full of random trinkets with a cat in her lap while she drinks a cup of coffee and reads a book.

"Is that all?"

She bounces her head from side to side before nodding. "It's a start, I guess."

Tatum turns and reaches for the doorknob to her room. How do I tell her I don't want to go to bed and would be fine staying here talking to her instead?

"Well, when the time comes, you let me know. I have the perfect idea for a housewarming gift. Until then, maybe I can continue to prove you wrong and change your mind."

She lifts her hand to cover her yawn before she smirks. "Don't hold your breath. I have one rule I live and die by now. No dating football players."

"Damn. Do me a favor, will ya? Remind me of this conversation before we play Rixton this fall."

"Why's that?"

"So I can make Perry regret being an asshole and ruining it for the rest of us."