At that moment, my decision was made. I wanted her, was consumed by need for her, and decided to screw the consequences.
I was making my move.
She placed the cup back on the desk; a small drop of foam rested on her lip. Rising from my seat, I stalked around the table, seeing her eyes widen with nerves as I approached. I leaned down, trapping her on the chair, my attention firmly fixed on my target.
“Romeo, what—” she whispered, but I dived in, flicking out my tongue and licking the foam off her soft lip.
“You had foam on your lip,” I said as casually as I could manage, pulling back from her.
“Oh, I—” Raw disappointment shadowed her golden eyes. It was all the convincing I needed. Gripping her cheeks in both of my hands, I moved in, crashing our lips together and grasping her thick hair in my fists, on the verge of losing control as she groaned with pure need against my busy mouth.
I had to stop before things went too far. As much as I wanted to sink deep into Molly, I wasn’t going to do it in the library for f**k’s sake. I wanted more when it came to her, so I reluctantly pulled back.
“And then?” she asked breathlessly as she nuzzled against my hand.
Touching my forehead against hers, I confessed, “Well, then, I just wanted to kiss you.” Her lips twitched and a shy smile lit up her face.
Spurred on by her affections, I dropped to my knees, running my hands up her bare thighs, and asked, “Come to my game this weekend.”
“I have to study.”
My heart plummeted to my stomach. “It’s just for a few hours, Mol.”
She began playing with her hands and shaking her head. “I know, but I get paid to assist the professor and I pride myself on getting everything done on time. I need my paycheck to survive, Rome. Living in the sorority house is expensive. I’ll be here on Saturday when the game is on.”
Her dismissive response took me aback, and I panicked that I’d got it all wrong. Why wouldn’t she come to my game? She could study before or after. It suddenly occurred to me that maybe she wasn’t feeling what I was feeling, and that thought just about broke me.
Sighing deep, I said, “Okay, I don’t f**king like it, but I understand.”
Gentle hands held my face, golden eyes imploring me to understand. “Please don’t be disappointed. Sports are just not my thing. I have absolutely no clue about American football, or quarterbacks, remember?” She finished with placating smile.
Briefly closing my eyes, I replied, “I hear you, Mol. No one’s ever there supporting me anyhow. Nothing new.” It wasn’t. Ally and on occasion her folks were the only ones who’d ever bothered their asses to show support.
“Romeo—” she whispered, her voice sounding conflicted.
I needed out, disappointment leaving me no other choice but to bail, so I stood, staring at the door, blurting, “I have a practice I gotta get to.”
I didn’t; I had absolutely nowhere I had to be, but I kind of felt humiliated at her shoot down.
Molly reached out and laced her fingers through mine, making me pause. I stared down at our hands, then to the panic on her face.
Jesus. I couldn’t get a damn read on what she the hell wanted!
“I’ll be here a few more hours yet. I’ll catch you later though, yeah?” she offered politely, only serving to confuse me more.
Trying to find some kind of answer, I bent down, meeting her eyes, catching the blatant interest in their depths.
There it was, that look, the one that told me she wanted me all right; she just needed a gentle push in my general direction.
I left the room, and once out in the corridor, I dug in my bag for pen and paper and scribbled a quick note:
Please come to the game.
I want you there.
Your Romeo X
I read the note back to myself and almost crumpled it up. Damn, that was cheesy. Your Romeo? What the hell was I thinking?
Mol’d seemed quite pleased about our Shakespearean connection the other night, but was this a step too far? Would it persuade her to come to the game, or just make her think I was a f**king tool?
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I laughed at the ridiculous state of myself. Christ, I’d hit an all-time low—Rome Prince pining after a chick who didn’t immediately fall at my feet. But hell, for reasons I couldn’t fully explain, I wanted her in the packed stands, watching me play. I wanted to show her my worth, that I was good at something. I wanted—no, needed—her to believe in me.
Checking no one was around, I slipped the note under the door, quickly walking away and just hoping more than ever that she would be the one person in my life to not let me down.