#Hater (Hashtag #2) (8 page)

“What was that all about?” He gazed off in the direction Zach disappeared.

“Nothing,” I answered. “He was just being a jerk.”

He looked like he wanted to argue or ask more questions, so I cut him off with a small smile. “Thanks for stepping in like that. You didn’t have to.”

His eyes widened and a look of horror crossed his face. “I’m not gonna stand around and watch a woman get manhandled.” Then under his breath, he muttered, “Especially you.”

“What?” I asked, wondering if I’d heard him right.

“You’re gonna be late.” He gestured to the class behind me.

I straightened.
Crap!
I’d forgotten about class! I rushed into the room and slipped into a seat near the front.

As the professor started lecture, introducing himself and the objectives for this semester, my eyes and my mind wandered back to the open doorway.

No one was there. Not anymore.

But my wrist was still burning and sore and I couldn’t help but wonder about what Zach had said.

Romeo

I wasn’t a book kind of guy.

Sitting in class and listening to professors drone on and on… and on was frankly not my idea of a good time. Half the time, I spaced out and didn’t hear what they were saying anyway.

Okay, fine. Not half the time.

All the time.

I was a physical kind of guy. I wanted to be on the move. To be outside. To be doing something that required action.

Needless to say, my morning classes crawled by. I had a thirty-minute lapse between the class I’d just escaped and my final class of the day. Once that was over, I was going to grab some food and then hit the field for some training before practice started. The championship was coming, and I wanted to be as ready as I could get.

The wind was still blowing around, but the sun was out and it felt a little warmer than this morning. I wondered how Rimmel was doing in the cold and if my hoodie was keeping her warm.

I was glad she was wearing it. I caught some of the surprised looks we got yesterday. People thought I would have discarded her by now. I didn’t like it.

If she had a hard time when we got together, it would be worse if everyone thought I dropped her. They would taunt her about being used and tossed aside. The thought of that made my hands ball into fists. She was too good for that. Too gentle and naive.

My lips curved into a smile because if she knew I thought of her that way, she’d try to kick my ass. She wouldn’t want to be viewed that way, because she was strong. Rimmel had been through a lot in her life and made it through, but that’s why I felt so protective of her. She was still gentle and naïve despite all those things. And she was so small. Wanting to shield her was a natural instinct for me.

In a way, my hoodie was a silent shield around her, and today, everyone who didn’t already know we were still together would. Hopefully, it would keep some of the vultures away.

I took my time making my way to the building my next class was in. I stopped at a vending machine and grabbed a soda, and then a couple guys from the team walked by and we started talking strategy for the big game.

They were all joking about the party at my place when they walked away. As I uncapped my drink, I noticed Michael was hanging back a bit.

“Got something on your mind?” I called out, gesturing at him with my chin.

He was a good player, he worked hard on the field, and I respected him. I got the feeling, though, that I wasn’t going to like what he wanted to say. I could tell by the hesitation in his face and body language. He probably disagreed with some of the plays I wanted to try tonight and didn’t want to piss me off in fear I would freeze him out on the field.

But I wasn’t like that. I left personal shit in the locker room. There was no room for drama in the game.

He walked back over in front of me as he adjusted the strap on his shoulder. “I’m not sure I should say anything.”

“Just say it, man. It’s cool.”

“I saw your girl this morning.” He started, and everything in me went cold.

This wasn’t about football. This
was
personal.

“You looking at Rimmel?” I asked, my voice calm and low.

His eyes widened a little, but he shook his head. “No, man. I probably wouldn’t have known it was her, but she was wearing your hoodie.”

I nodded for him to continue.

“She was in the hall, outside her class,” he said, glancing at me.

He needed to get to the fucking point already. I was losing patience.

“That guy Zach was with her. It looked pretty intense.”

I jerked upright. “What?” I growled.

What the fuck was Rimmel doing with Zach? Why was he talking to her?

“He was grabbing her arm. Jerking her around pretty good.”

Red tinged my vision and adrenaline started pumping in my veins. “What did you just say?”

Michael nodded grimly. “It’s why I noticed them. He grabbed her and she cried out. She told him to let go, but he just jerked her more. She almost fell.”

A noise rumbled out of my chest and anger so swift and hot that it hurt filled me. “Tell me you pulled him off her,” I intoned.

“I was going to. I called out to them and started forward, but that’s when he let her go and walked away.”

I was going to kill him.

Dead.

“I asked her if she was okay. I don’t think she knew I’m on the team with you.”

“Probably not,” I muttered, still trying to control the anger spiraling out of control inside me.

“She said she was.” He continued, but I heard the doubt in his voice.

“But?” The word came out harsher than I intended, but he didn’t seem to notice.

“But her wrist was pretty red. Looked like it was going to bruise.”

Thought ceased in my head. Rationality evaporated. “Thanks for telling me,” I said and rushed away in the opposite direction of my next class.

I checked the time on my cell and knew Rimmel was probably in the food court. She had a break now and mentioned to me this morning about having lunch with Ivy. She never mentioned a word about Zach.

I took the stairs two at a time up to the food court, rushing past people who called out my name without even so much as blinking.

People were everywhere, walking around with trays, sitting around laughing and standing in lines. The scent of coffee and pizza filled the air, and music played over the speakers, fighting with the sounds of everyone talking over each other.

I blocked it all out.

My eyes scanned the room, bouncing around the crowds of people. Searching for Rimmel in a roomful of people might seem like finding a needle in a haystack to some.

But not to me.

I was drawn to her in ways I didn’t even understand.

I found her in mere seconds. She was sitting toward the back of the room, across from Ivy at a four-person table. Missy was on the other side of Ivy, and the fourth chair beside Rimmel was empty.

She was smiling at something Ivy was saying, and it pierced my heart.

Without thinking, I strode through the crowd, not slowing my pace when I drew closer. She noticed me. Her face broke into a smile and her eyes lit up.

But then she must have sensed my mood. The dangerous way I was moving. Her eyes widened and the smile slipped from her lips.

I didn’t say a word when I stopped at the table. I just picked up her arm and shoved back the sleeve of her hoodie. Her wrist was fine. Creamy smooth skin without a single blemish.

“Romeo,” she said, shocked. “What are you doing?”

My movements were jerky and stiff when I dropped that arm and reached for the other. I yanked it up and her body tightened. I glanced up at her face and saw the twinge of pain in her eyes, and instead of feeling sorry for hurting her, I got even more pissed off.

Even though I wanted to rip the sleeve away, I forced myself to push it back gently, knowing—
knowing
—I wasn’t going to like what I was about to see.

My back teeth snapped together, making a sharp clicking sound when I saw.

She was bruised. A ring of purple, blotchy bruises circled her slender wrist, and around them the skin was red and irritated. I cradled her palm in mine and turned her hand over to note the same kind of bruising and light swelling underneath as well.

“Oh my God,” Ivy said from beside me. “What happened to your wrist?”

Rimmel tried to slip her hand out of mine, but I wouldn’t let her. My eyes pierced hers, drilling into them, trying to find an answer.

“Were you going to tell me about this?” I asked, deadly calm.

“I’m fine,” she argued, tugging her hand free of mine. I wanted to snatch it back to continue to stare at the marks some other man put on her skin.

But I didn’t. I wouldn’t hurt her that way.

I made a frustrated sound deep in my throat and shoved my hands through my hair. Then I stacked my hands behind my head and blew out a breath, unable to stand still.

“Damn it, Rimmel,” I said, harsh. I felt the stares from several tables nearby.

“Maybe we should talk about this later,” she said, her voice almost a whisper.

I laughed. “You think I’m going to wait until later to find out the details of how that fuckwad put
bruises on your body
?”

Missy gasped and Ivy made a sound of distress. I didn’t look at them, though. I kept my eyes on my girlfriend as I pulled in fast, shallow breaths.

I felt out of control in that moment. I’d never felt like this before. I was used to being calm and collected, but I couldn’t find that part of myself right then. The vision of those bruises, of Michael standing in front of me warily telling me how he witnessed Rimmel being pushed around in a hallway, assaulted me.

The sight of Zach smirking at the bookstore days ago, the sound of his voice when he told me he hadn’t forgotten.

One of his “friends” picked that moment to walk by. Judging by the look on his face, I knew he was probably taking notes so he could report back to his buddy later. I moved lightning fast, jerking out my hand and grabbing his shirt right at his neck. He was shorter and smaller than me, and I felt the toes of his shoes dragging across the floor as I brought him right up into my face.

“Where is he?” I asked.

“Who?” he asked, his eyes bulging out of their sockets.

“You know who,” I growled.

“Romeo!” Rimmel’s voice cut through some of the blinding anger inside me. Her hands slid around my waist and she tried to nudge herself between me and the guy I was interrogating. “Put him down.”

I just stood there. I didn’t listen.

“Come on, let’s go talk.” She tugged on my shirt, and I released him.

He scrambled away as people stared after him. I turned toward Rimmel. She grabbed her bag off the seat beside her and looked down at her tray.

“I’ll take care of it,” Ivy said and slid a glance at me.

She nodded and slipped her hand into mine. “C’mon.”

We walked down the stairs away from the prying eyes of our audience and around the corner toward the bookstore. I tugged her past the entrance and we went farther down the hallway where no one but the staff ever went.

When I felt like we were alone enough, I stopped walking. Rimmel dropped her bag on the floor and looked at me. “Don’t you have class?”

“I’m gonna be late,” I said, my eyes not leaving her face.

She shook her head. “Being late on the first day—”

I cut off her lecture. I swooped forward and caught her around the waist and pushed her back into the wall. My mouth crashed down over hers, and she moaned, stretching up to meet my kiss.

It was desperate and a little bit angry. I kissed her more roughly than I should, but I couldn’t stop. She kissed me back just as aggressively. It was as if whatever emotion was rolling around inside me were calling out the very same thing in her.

I pressed forward, pushing my body along hers, and wrapped my arms around her waist.

Some of the intensity of my anger dissipated and drained away. After a very long, steamy kiss, I broke away, breathing hard.

Rimmel’s head collapsed against the wall and she stared up at me with unfocused hazel eyes. The flecks of color in the center were green today. “Romeo,” she gasped.

I pulled back enough so I could lift her arm and grasp her fingers. She made a sound of protest when I pushed back the material of the shirt once more and stared down at the dark blotches marring her skin.

“How were you going to explain this to me?” I rumbled.

“I wasn’t going to lie, if that’s what you’re implying,” she snapped.

“Ah, baby.” I groaned and lifted her wrist to press my lips to the marks. “I’m being a jerk.”

“You said it…” She agreed, letting the rest of her sentence fall away.

I smiled against her skin and then kissed her inner wrist once more.

“Do you know what it did to me when Michael told me what he saw Zach doing to you?”

“Michael?” she asked, a question in her eyes. Then it cleared away and she whispered, “The guy from the hallway.”