Campus King | 18+

Chapter Forty-Three

Okay, so maybe I was the coward this time.

But how did you face the woman your drunken idiot-self spilled every-fucking-thing to? You didn't — that's how.

Instead, you woke up with a bucket full of regret and you got the hell out of dodge — because you just knew she wasn't going to look at you the same again. Not my finest moment, I'll admit, but I didn't know if I'd be able to stand that look of pity I knew I'd be greeted with. It took so long for that look to leave my own fucking mother's face — I don't think I'd be able to handle it on Hannah's too. So I moved as quietly as possible and packed my stuff up while she slept, every noise making me freeze like a naughty kid. And then I left feeling like the biggest asshole on the planet.

Afterwards, I threw myself into work with the guys, helping to dismantle the bigger structures and haul the heavy equipment to where it needed to go. It provided a much-needed distraction, especially as I sweated out my hangover alongside my teammates, most of whom were in the same sorry state as me. 

By the time I had to return to the tent, I was sweating balls. Deciding to just get it over with, I made my way back, exchanging nods with those who waved as I passed by. When I got there, Hannah was standing next to Bailey, shaking her head as her best friend bent over and dry heaved, reaching out to pat her back and pull her hair out of her face.

Unable to help it, my eyes devoured every inch of her. Today, she sported a light pink hoodie paired with black pants, her hair pulled back into a simple ponytail. The hoodie draped over her body, reaching mid-thigh, and because I knew what the goods looked like — tasted like — it made me want her even more. 

I didn't think I could remember ever being this attracted to another girl. It was like the more I had her, the greedier I got to have more. It took a lot of self-control and reigning myself in to be around Hannah — and I wasn't always successful. That alone told me how dangerous she was.

Sensing my gaze, she lifted her head, her piercing blue eyes locking onto mine and stabbing me right through the heart. With her soul-piercing gaze, came a rush of feelings I'd never felt before, yet had become all too familiar with in the last couple of weeks. If her eyes stabbed my heart, the things she made me feel shredded it to pieces. 

I'd always imagined settling down with one girl and fully committing to her, but that vision had been set for much later in my life, not now. Would I even make a good boyfriend right now? I knew I'd never betray or cheat on Hannah, especially given her past experiences. Not to mention the fact that my entire family would disown me — my mother, in particular, would subject me to her famous silent treatment for at least the next decade.

No. I knew once I had Hannah, there was no way I'd be able to let her go, and thats why I couldn't have her. 

But that was if we went the serious route — the one that led to a committed relationship and the potential for a future together. The other option, the one I was determined to choose, promised a lucrative career in the NFL, an endless parade of women, and no responsibilities beyond my work and health. That had been the dream, but why wasn't it as appealing anymore? Why did it suddenly seem like I was trading the chance to build a life with Hannah for a future of loneliness and emptiness?