Offside (28 page)

“In the folders,” I told her, and I pointed down to the bottom shelf. “Red is trig, green is biology—of course—and the blue one is for homework before it's graded. The left side has the ones that aren't done yet, and the right side has the ones ready to turn in. The purple one is…”

“Thomas! How could you do that?” Her eyes were intense, and her hands were balled up into fists. My kitten had turned lioness-mad.

My phone went off with a new text message, meowing loudly and echoing down the hallway.

“Are you seriously keeping that as your ringtone?” Nicole snapped.

“I like it,” I said with a shrug.

She glared at me, forgetting the noise from my pocket.

“What the fuck did you do?” she said again as she gestured toward the locker.

“What do you mean?” I was still completely astonished by her reaction. She had to see how much better organized it was. I didn't know how she could have even found today's biology homework at all before I put it in the homework folder. It was at the bottom of a stack of literature notes.

“How the hell did you even get into my locker?”

“I...um…borrowed the key,” I stammered. Okay, I didn't really think about her going in that direction, but really, what was the big deal?

“Borrowed the
key
?” she yelled. Damn, she could yell when she wanted to. “Borrowed
what
key?”

“There's a master key…” I said. “I got it from the office so I could…um…fix your locker up…”

Suddenly, the whole thing didn’t sound like the great idea it did initially.

“Oh my GOD!” Nicole's hands went up into her hair. “I cannot believe you did that. How could you, Thomas? How could you go through all my stuff like that? Without even asking? Seriously?”

My body went cold, and I started getting that creepy, tingling feeling I sometimes got when Dad was in one of his moods. A shiver ran through me. I feared whatever I said now wouldn't make any difference.

I couldn't seem to pull in a breath. I could still see Nicole, and I knew she was yelling, but her words were lost to me. She threw her hands up in the air and then backed up against the locker next to hers. With her hands over her face, she slowly sank to the floor where she sat with her knees bent.

Shakespeare's words from
A Midsummer Night's Dream
came to me—“So quick bright things come to confusion.” Somehow, I'd really, really screwed this up.

Now would she let me fix it?

CHAPTER 15

SHUTOUT

Most of the hallway had cleared out as students headed to the lunchroom. I stood there like a complete moron while Nicole sat on the floor with her head in her hands. I was afraid to say or do anything because I wasn’t sure if she was so angry she couldn’t look at me or if it was because she was crying.

I wasn’t even sure which one would be worse.

Since no little voices whispered words of guidance in my head, I just sat down in the hallway in front of her and tried to figure out what the fuck had happened. I only wanted to help her, and I thought she would have liked it, but obviously, she didn’t feel that way.

“Rumple?” I finally said when the silence was just too much to take anymore.

She tipped her head back up, unshielding it from her hands and her hair at the same time. She didn’t really look mad exactly, but her eyes still glared at me. I realized what I had called her and quickly corrected myself.

“Um…Nicole?” I tried again. “I just wanted…I mean, I didn’t mean to…”

“I know,” she said in a voice that was completely dead. Her eyes dropped to the ground, and she looked so…so…
unNicole
. I didn’t know what to make of it. “It’s okay.”

Greg’s voice echoed in my mind.

“
She was timid and scared, and she always waited for someone else to tell her what to do…”

Oh fuck.

Oh fuckity fuck, fuck, fuckity fuck, fuck, fuck.

I got up on my knees to kind of crawl the couple of feet between us until I reached her, and when I went to touch her, she flinched.

“Oh no…no…Nicole…”

I pulled my hand back and watched her wrap her arms around her legs.

“I didn’t mean it…not like that…shit.”

I had to get out of here. I had to get
her
out of here.

I stood up and crouched beside her, slid my arms behind her back and legs and lifted her up into my arms. I rather expected her to take a swing at me, but she didn’t. She didn’t protest at all.

Fuck.

Without making eye contact with anyone we passed, I carried her swiftly down the hall, out the door, and to my car. I didn’t know what I had in mind and just went purely on instinct—instinct I didn’t know I had. I opened up the back door, placed her in the seat, and then went around to the other side. Once I was in, I reached over and pulled her against my chest, wrapping her up in my arms and just whispering into her hair.

“I didn’t mean it,” I told her. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking. Please, please…Nicole. Don’t be like this.”

At least I figured out where I went wrong. Somehow, I was going to have to convince her I wasn’t like that guy in Minneapolis—the one that hurt her. I wasn’t like him at all.

Was I?

I kept my arms wrapped around her for the longest time, just holding her against my chest and telling over and over again her how sorry I was. At first, she just slouched against me, not moving, but after a few minutes, I felt her arms snake around my waist.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered again. My arms tensed and I brought her closer to me. “I wasn’t trying to…to…I mean, I only wanted to…help…”

I didn’t know what else to say.

“I know,” she answered.

I pressed my lips to the top of her head.

“I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“I know you didn’t,” she said.

We were silent a while longer until she spoke again.

“He was always telling me what a slob I was,” she said softly, and I could hear her breath hitch. “He said if I wasn’t so stupid, I would be able to organize myself. I tried to tell him I always knew where everything was…but he didn’t listen very often to what I said.”

I clenched my teeth and tried to stop myself from putting my fist through the window. I closed my eyes and counted to seventy-six. Finally, I could speak without snarling.

“Did he hit you?” I asked softly. I didn’t
want
to know, but I still
had
to know. She was silent way too long, and I tightened my arms around her.

“Only once,” she finally said.

I closed my eyes tightly, trying to rein in the anger that was threatening to boil up to the surface of my skin, probably creating blisters, or at least scaring the shit out of her. It was that possibility that kept me in check.

“If you tell me his full name, I will destroy that motherfucker.”

I felt her shake her head.

“No,” she whispered against my chest, “I don’t want you to do anything.”

I held myself still and tried to take a few deep breaths.

“If that’s what you want,” I told her.

“That’s what I want.”

“I don’t like it,” I said, just to make sure that part was clear.

“I know,” she replied. “Just…don’t.”

“I won’t,” I promised, thought about it for a second, and then added, “but if I ever see him on a soccer field, all bets are off.”

I felt, more than heard, her chuckle.

“You have to tell me when I do something you don’t like,” I said. “I want you to tell me. I don’t want to be a shitty boyfriend like that.”

“It’s just pretend, Thomas,” she scoffed. “It’s just for show.”

I stiffened and looked into her eyes.

Now or never…

“What if…” The words caught in my throat. I swallowed and tried again. “What if I don’t want to pretend?”

Nicole’s eyes narrowed slightly. Her brows squished together, and she looked up at me.

“Thomas…” she said softly, “it’s not…not real.”

“What if I want it to be real?” I whispered. I shifted a little closer to her, as if that were possible. I moved my hand slowly up her arm until it lay across her cheek. I leaned forward, looked into her eyes, and placed my lips against hers.

I heard her sharp intake of breath and then a soft moan as her grip on me tightened, and her lips molded against mine. My head tilted to the side, wanting more. I kissed her again and again. I turned my head the other way and felt her hand grasp the back of my head and pull me closer. I opened my mouth a little—just enough for my tongue to reach out and touch her lips.

Her mouth opened to me without hesitation, and it was my turn to moan.

She tasted so fucking good. She reached out with her tongue and touched mine, and I didn’t hesitate to lick across her lips before I delved into her mouth. My tongue explored, and her little soft moans started driving me over the edge.

“I don’t want to pretend,” I said again. My mouth never left hers as I spoke. “I want it to be real. I want you…”

I felt her nod though she never spoke or broke away from me. Her tongue entered my mouth again and ran along mine. I couldn’t get enough of it, and I sucked on it with my lips as my own tongue traveled along hers. Nicole pressed harder against me, and my head hit the back of the seat as she crawled into my lap and started kissing me in earnest.

So fucking good…

She moved her hands to my shoulders and then back down to my chest. She grazed me slightly with her fingernails through the fabric of my jersey. I groaned against her mouth, and I slid my hands down to her back, and I pulled her against me as we kept kissing and kissing and kissing.

At some point right before we would have needed ChapStick, Nicole pulled back, and her eyes met mine again. She was flushed and breathing hard, but most importantly, the fire was back in her eyes. I tilted my head down and kissed her once more but only lightly.

“If this is going to be real,” she said, “there’s something we have to make perfectly clear.”

Nicole straightened up in the seat, raising herself enough that we were more on eye level. She took my face between her palms and held me still.

“What?” I asked, feeling a little nervous.

“Thomas Malone, don’t you ever fuck with my shit again, you hear me?”

A smile crept across my face that I just couldn’t stop.

“You think this is funny, Malone?”

I shook my head.

“I think you’re beautiful,” I told her. “And I like it when you call me that, Rumple.”

“What?
Malone
?” she asked as she shook her head. “That is your name.”

“And for that name which is no part of thee, take all myself.”

She scowled at me, but I saw the corner of her mouth twitch. Leaning forward again, I wrapped my lips around her lower one, sucking on it and running my tongue over it. Her hands tangled back into my hair, and she held me against her. I slowly backed off, reveling in the feeling of her fingers tugging at my hair.

“Shouldn’t you be practicing for a game tonight or something?” she asked with a raised brow.

I tucked my head down against her shoulder and tightened my grip.

“Yeah, probably,” I said with a shrug.

“Maybe you should get out there, then.”

“I probably should.”

“You better play damn well tonight, too,” she added. “I expect a shut out game.”

She pushed her hand under my jaw and tilted my head up to align with hers. She placed her lips against mine and punctuated each word with a kiss.

“
Just. For. Me
.”

My heart began to beat faster at her words, and I looked into her glorious eyes.

“You got it.”

I couldn’t think of anything I would rather do. It was an exhilarating sensation, and I felt more like
me
than I had in a really long time.

I was going to win this game.

I was going to win it for
my
Rumple.

I walked into the locker room about as pumped up as I could be.

“You fuckers ready to kick some ass?” I screamed as I jumped up on the bench next to the lockers.

“Fuck yeah!” Jeremy responded. Several other guys responded in kind.

“Shutout! No fucking scores for these assholes!” I yelled. I pointed over to my defenders. “European defense tonight. You fuckers push them to the sides and then right through to the middle—no crossovers. I’ll take it from there.”

“You got it,” Paul piped up.

“Klosav, Clint—you guys do your shit, and we’ll be set.”