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"Thank you," he whispered and kissed me, slow and sweet. "Thank you, thank you, fucking thank you.” Gently, he moved down to my neck and murmured against my skin, “Piper, you’re so beautiful. Oh my god. Fucking thank you."
I hummed under my breath, pleased, while he ran his fingers along my throat, kissing me again and again.
87
Piper
Something For The Banquet
The only thing I was called in for was to show the hundreds—if not thousands—of text messages I’d gotten from Thomas during the semester. Coach Lawson and Cleo were livid. And thinking about it, if this all happened at the beginning of the semester, I probably would’ve just withdrawn the complaint and hoped Thomas got the message.
Now? I didn’t. Whatever he had coming to him, he deserved it.
After one of the meetings about the upcoming RA presentations and my placement during the night, my nerves were fried. They’d gone over the official list of who was watching—including the Roman Hall leader. I fought the anxiety creeping up on me. This was the chance I’d begged for and it absolutely terrified me.
But all of that faded to the background when I came to an abrupt stop at the end of the brick building. Adam leaned against one of the columns, his arms folded over each other.
Oh my god.
The sunlight shone the red in his hair from behind, bathing him in soft golden hues. Sometimes, I’d see him, and—bam—it was a shock to my senses how good-looking he was.
“Hey,” he breathed out the moment he saw me.
“Hi,” came out as more of a squeak than anything, and I almost stepped forward to kiss him. The recklessness was a problem. It was hard not getting giddy every time I saw him, him and that gorgeous smile of his. I walked past him instead, gesturing for him to follow along. “They—um—said I’m going last on the lineup.”
“Good.” He easily kept up with me. “You get more time to prepare.”
“Bad. I’ll be going after all these presentations that’ll be way better than mine that will be given by super confident and super relaxed people. And then I have to go up like I’m not going to throw up on the stage.” I sucked in a breath. “I’m dropping out of school.”
“No, you’re not.”
I rubbed the back of my neck. “You have a physio appointment soon.”
Physiotherapy was required once a week for the football players to make sure they were stretched and healthy enough for the conditioning drills during spring training. If he missed an appointment, Coach Lawson wouldn’t be happy.
“Piper.” Adam snagged my arm, holding me back in the middle of a crowd of people trying to get to their classes. “The presentation’s going to go great. And then you’re going to Roman Hall.”
“That’s easy for you to say but—”
“It’s easy because I’ll be there. Front row. You focus on me, nothing else. You’re not going to be nervous.”
I blinked. “You’re going to be there?”
“Sure. Coach said to follow you around. This is me following you around.”
I beat down the blush, but obviously not hard enough. Walking after him, I took a few breaths. It did make me feel better to think of Adam being there. Because if I was talking to Adam about my presentation, like I started reciting it to him a hundred times before, it was just the two of us. Nobody else.
Maybe I can do this.
“I’ve got a gift for you,” Adam threw over his shoulder, taking a sharp left to Roman Villa.
“What? Your physio—”
“If you hurry up, we can hit both. It’s too bad you walk so slow.”
I rolled my eyes. “Not everybody can be a giraffe.”
“Not everybody can be a turtle either,” he retorted with a grin.
