Kicked (9 page)

I avoided his eyes, as if I could hide from him by looking elsewhere. “No, nothing wrong. It’s just that, where I come from, we don’t have the luxury of touring the world or…” I shrugged.

“Cordy, look at me.” His soft voice was a caress. Our gazes clicked, and heat began to rise along my neck. Could he see my blush or feel the rapid beat of my heart?

He squeezed my fingers. “I know we have different backgrounds. I remember what you said about your family and where you’re from.” He drew his brows together, the center wrinkling. “I won’t deny that there was a time when I cared about stuff like that.” His eyes grew sad.

Embarrassment flooded me at the thought of him looking down on me. I tried to pull my hand away, but he maintained a firm, yet soft, grip.

“But I don’t care about it now. None of that matters, okay? I don’t care where you come from. And if where I come from bothers you, then I won’t talk about it.” He released my hand, and I pulled away from him, though it took an effort.

He was so open with me. Or at least he seemed open. Maybe he was fooling me again. I couldn’t tell. His eyes were earnest, and his words had the ring of truth.

Even so, something about what he’d said rattled around in my mind, and I needed to know more. “When you said you used to care about—”

“Cheese sticks.” The server slapped a basket of bread laden with mozzarella in the center of the table. “And your pizza will be out shortly.”

Trent and I took the plates she offered. Thunder shook the building, and rain poured outside the plate glass window along the street. I was safe and warm with Trent, about to enjoy dinner like two normal people without a past.

He nudged the basket closer to me. “You first.”

Cheese and bread were easily my favorite foods on the planet. He didn’t have to tell me twice. I snagged an end piece, the cheese browned and still hot from the oven.

“Marinara?” He offered the little cup of red sauce to me.

I blew on the cheese stick and slowly shook my head. “I would never profane cheesy bread with marinara. Not happening.”

“A purist.” He grabbed a stick and dunked it in the sauce. “I can respect that.”

I took a bite and forced myself not to moan around the salty deliciousness. I finished my stick in short order and followed it with a gulp of lemonade.

“Have another.” Trent downed his beer and motioned for another from the server.

“I shouldn’t.” I reached for the basket.

“You should.” Trent plucked another cheese-laden piece and took a bite, his eyes focused on me. “Live a little.”

“How could I say no to that?” I snagged the next to last piece. “I’m going to be full before the pizza even gets here.”

As I devoured half the cheese stick, he grabbed the beer from the server and took a long draw. When he set it down, I noticed his hand shook the slightest bit.

I placed the uneaten half of the cheese stick on my plate. “What?”

“It’s just.” He cleared his throat. “I’ve been waiting a while to tell you this.”

I leaned back, a shock of cold flowing through my veins. “What?”

He squared his shoulders, as if waiting for someone to land a blow. “I think I’m ready to tell you what happened two years ago.”

For just a moment, it seemed like maybe we could pretend two years ago never happened. We could have a pizza and a few drinks without giving a thought to that night. But from the shake in his hands and the anxiety in his voice, I could tell he’d intended to clear the air all along.

He reached across the table again and took my hand. All the noise of the restaurant faded into the background, and it was just the two of us.

His eyes softened as he stared at me, remorse crinkling the skin next to his eyes. “I made a mis—”

“Cordy!” Landon rushed up, his hair hanging in wet ropes and the rest of him soaked from head to toe. His gaze went to where my hand was encased by Trent’s.

“Lan—”

Before I could say a word, he reared back and clocked Trent hard on the jaw.

CHAPTER TWELVE

T
RENT

Two years earlier

I
SMOOTHED MY HANDS
down my dress shirt for the third time since we’d gotten out of the car and into La Café Blanc.

Cordy smiled as the server unfolded her napkin and laid it across her lap for her. “I can say, without a doubt, I’ve never been somewhere this fancy in my life.”

I stared at her, because I couldn’t seem to see anything else. Her hair cascaded over her shoulder in a chestnut wave. The lavender dress she wore cut just under her collar bones, and the rest of the material clung to the curve of her waist. Her amber eyes glimmered in the low light of the restaurant.

“Trent?” She smiled, and my heart took off at a gallop.

“Yes, fancy.”
Good one, you moron.

She laughed, a small, delicate sound that I wanted to put on repeat. “Have you been here before?” Her eyes roved the fine linens, black tie servers, and the expansive chandeliers and candelabras that gave the restaurant its swanky reputation.

“A few times. Whenever my parents are in town.”

“How often do they visit?” She smiled up at the server as he poured her water. “Thank you.”

“Not too often, thank God. My dad’s okay, but my mom can be a holy terror.” I was putting it mildly.

My mother was hell bent on controlling every move I made and every detail of my future, including who I would marry, what career I would choose, all the way down to what pattern of china would be on display in my home. As the heir to the Carrington family fortune, I had been groomed since birth to carry on the family investment business and maintain a lifestyle befitting my station. What I wanted didn’t matter, at least not to my mother. She believed my football aspirations were beneath me, and she made a point to bring her opinions to my attention every chance she got.

“She probably just wants what’s best for you.” Cordy glanced to the menu. “What’s good here?”

“I always get the filet. But if you wanted something else, the game hen is pretty good, too.”

She nibbled her lip. I rubbed my sweaty palms down my pants. That move of hers had gotten to me over the past few months. Whenever she was considering something, she would run her teeth along her bottom lip.

“I think I’ll try the filet if that’s what you like.” She laid the menu down and gave me the full-on view of her glittering eyes again.

The server approached. I placed our orders as he deposited a small bread plate.

I passed the butter plate to her. “So, what about your parents? You’ve mentioned your dad a couple times, but I don’t know much else.”

She shifted in her seat and looked up at the closest chandelier. “He’s back in West Virginia. He used to be a miner, but the company closed his mine, and he’s been out of work ever since.”

“What about your mom?”

“She left when I was a child.” She shrugged, still keeping her gaze away from mine. “Long gone.”

“So you’re on your own?” My mom couldn’t go a week without sending a passive-aggressive text, so I couldn’t imagine a life without her.

“Something like that.”

“Does it bother you?”

Cordy dropped her gaze to the candle flickering at the center of the table. “I have a scholarship that pays my tuition. Dad calls every so often. I’m able to study and get some soccer time in, so I’m happy as I can be, I guess.”

It wasn’t good enough. She deserved to be truly happy. I’d never met a woman like her. From the first moment I saw her in class, her head bowed shyly and her hands at war with each other, I’d wanted her. I’d had girlfriends in high school, dated a girl freshman year, had flings at parties. But none of them enthralled me like Cordy. Her quiet nature, the determination that burned in her heart, and her compassion drew me to her.

People like Cordy didn’t exist in my world. The girls I grew up with either had enough money to be unrelenting bitches or they had an old money name with no actual money behind it, which turned them into schemers. Cordy was a breath of fresh air—one I didn’t even realize I was desperate for until I found her.

“What about you?” She carefully buttered her bread with her knife.

“What about me?”

“Are you happy?”

“I am when I’m with y—” I coughed into my hand to stop myself.
Oh my God, Trent, too fast.

She gave me a dazzling smile and her cheeks grew pink. Seeing that reaction made my chest warm and my heart race.

Reaching across the table, she took my hand. “I’m happy when I’m with you, too.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

T
RENT

L
ANDON’S SUCKER PUNCH STUNG
just enough to enrage me. I rose and grabbed a handful of the front of his shirt, not sure if I wanted to show him what a real hit felt like or slam him on the ground.

“Don’t fucking touch her!” He swung wildly, but I had fifty pounds of muscle on him, easy.

I shoved him back, and he fell over a table and skidded into another one. The nearest students yelled and backed away, their pizzas toppling to the floor. I stalked toward him as he struggled to his feet.

“Trent, stop!” Cordy pushed through the tables and stood between Landon and me.

“Get out of the way. I’ve got this.” Landon brought his fists up and swiped his thumb across his nose.

She turned to him. “Have you lost your mind? He’s the starting quarterback, all muscle, works out every day.”

My chest puffed up a little more with each of her words, pride overcoming my anger.

“Move.” Landon eyed me with no hint of fear.

I would have respected him if I didn’t want to beat the shit out of him for trying to separate Cordy and me.

“I can take him.” He advanced until Cordy was the only thing between us.

“You can try.” I stepped closer, but Cordy put her hand to my chest.

“Stop it, both of you! You’re being idi—”

“Hey!” Mr. Sanpeggio rushed from the kitchen and into the main dining area. “What’s going on? Call the cops.” He motioned to a server.

“We’re leaving.” Cordy’s voice was strong and even.

“Outside! Go!” Mr. Sanpeggio waved his flour-covered hands at us.

“Come on.” Cordy grabbed Landon’s forearm and yanked him toward the door. I followed behind, ready to drop him if he tried anything else. Turning back, I called, “I’ll stop by tomorrow and pay for any damage.”

“Out!” Mr. Sanpeggio bent over and started righting the tables as the students finally relaxed. A couple had whipped out their cell phones after I’d sent Landon flying. Thankfully, they didn’t capture anything other than the standoff. It might make campus news, but not much more than that.

The rain fell in sheets as all three of us stood under the awning across the front of the restaurant.

Cordy released Landon’s arm and whirled on him. “What the hell was that?”

“He was touching you.” Landon shrugged.

“Newsflash, Landon, it’s okay for people to touch me!” She fisted her hands at her sides as the wind whipped droplets of water onto her bare calves.

She was wrong on that count, but I wasn’t about to break this up. Landon needed to learn that he would never receive clearance to fly outside the friend zone.

“Not him.” He pointed at me but kept his eyes on hers. “Have you forgotten what he did?”

“No.” She crossed her arms over her chest.

“Then act like it. You’re out to dinner with him like he’s worth your time. He’s not. He’s the same spoiled rich boy who ran off and left you.”

“I’m not having this conversation.” She shook her head. “Not here and not in front of Trent.”

“Let me take you home.” He grabbed her elbow.

I’d heard enough. “Not a chance.”

“I wasn’t talking to you.” Landon bristled and finally looked at me. “Go on back to your mansion and drown yourself in some Perrier or champagne or whatever the hell you got. This is between me and Cordy.”

“Take your hand off her.” I tried to keep my control, but every second he touched what was mine made a muscle tick in my jaw.

“You going to make me?”

“Stop!” Cordy stepped away from both of us and into the rain. “Trent, drive both of us back to campus. No talking from anyone. Just driving.” She marched toward my car.

I fumbled in my pocket for the key fob and unlocked the doors right as she reached for the door handle.

She yanked it open. “Landon, get in the back.”

“I’d rather walk.” He turned.

“Landon Russell Garnet! Get your ass in this car!” Her shrill yell made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

That stopped him in his tracks. He stalked past me and muttered “motherfucker” under his breath. I followed and dropped into the driver’s seat as he slammed my back door far harder than necessary.

“No talking. Just driving. Everyone cool off.” She shivered as she spoke.

I turned the air to warm and tried to surreptitiously press the button to turn off the heat to the rear passenger seats, just to be a dick. She slapped my hand away and clicked it back on.
Busted.

The rain didn’t let up as I drove down the road back toward campus. Water rose along the edges of the pavement, and my tires sent up curtains of water with every puddle. Cordy stayed silent, and one glance into my rearview gave me a full view of Landon’s scowl. I turned onto University Circle as lightning streaked the sky, followed by a crash of thunder.

“Where can I drop you,
Landon
?” I tried to keep the edge out of my voice. I failed.

“Hope Hall.”

I shot him a death glare in the rearview mirror. There was absolutely zero chance I’d take him to Cordy’s dorm.

“No.” Cordy stared out the window, her face hidden. “He’s in Rowen Hall.”