I shrugged. “I didn’t think it was important, but now it is. Stay the fuck away from her.”
Nick paused and faced me. “You’re still a dick.”
“And your vocabulary is lacking.”
He leaned in and snarled, “Does your girl Taylor know about this?”
She did know of Theodora, but it wasn’t what Nick was thinking. Taylor and my relationship was…different. “What’s your point, Nick?” He was very competitive and didn’t like to lose. Especially when I gave him a warning. It was almost like he would’ve been fine backing off Theodora, but since I told him to stay away, it got under his skin. That’s just how that fucker rolled. All of us were hell-bent on proving someone wrong when we were given an ultimatum. Blame it on our make up. That’s why we were all football players. We loved the challenge. Probably why we got along so well, too. Okay, most of the time.
Why was I issuing ultimatums to begin with?
Because she had been mine long ago, and she fucked me over. I loathed her, but I didn’t want anyone else to have her either. Think of it as falling on the sword for others. Least of all, my friend who she didn’t care about in the first place. Theodora would have to have a heart to care which she didn’t. Nick didn’t need to deal with that shit. I was better equipped to deal with her. I knew her better.
“I’m beginning to think you’re fucked in the head.” Again, with this guy who was all up in my grill.
“I’m beginning to think you’re one giant pussy,” I goaded.
Nick gripped my shirt and slammed me against the refrigerator. “Roman, I’m at my limit of your sadistic bullshit. Whatever mind fuck you’re trying to throw out there…I’m calling your bluff.”
Nick was breathing heavy, but had a fake smile on his lips. He was my friend, yet he was pissing me off in the worst way. I forced a laugh, baring my teeth. “You’ve already folded, fucker, and ran out of poker chips.” I knew I was burning a hole in our friendship with each word that fell out of my mouth, but if he wanted to pursue this shit with Theodora, then our friendship would go south real quick.
Nick and I glared at each other. Daring the other to make the next move. Do it. Do it, Nick. I was ready to show him how fucking serious I was.
The corners of his mouth lifted, portraying the carefree motherfucker everyone thought him to be. He released my shirt, making a deliberate show to smooth the wrinkles out. “I’m not out, yet. And I never fold.” With that he walked away, and I was about to tackle him, but Dmitri and Axel were there to hold me back.
“What the fuck, bro?” Axel gazed at me like I was crazy. Which I was…about to lose my shit again and attack Nick’s self-serving, cocky ass.
I half-heartedly struggled, knowing I looked like the ultimate tool. “Let go,” I rumbled, already plotting the next time I’d see Theodora. I knew her schedule, and maybe I’d see her on campus. Who the fuck was I kidding? I would see her again. Soon I’d have all of her information. Down to her goddamn meal plan.
“You need to get yourself together, man,” Dmitri warned, staring at me with his ice-blue eyes. This was probably the first time he’d ever shown he cared enough to say something so profound (although not that profound, seriously, only seven words?) to one of us.
“I’m good.” I held up my hands.
“You sure?” Axel peered at me with a little smirk on his face. This fucker thrived on drama but was quick to call you out if you were making a douchebag of yourself.
“I’m fine.” My jaw clenched, and I got my shit together. I wasn’t the one who lost control. I pushed around them and gathered my stuff as though I did this on a daily basis because at this point, who gave a fuck what they thought? I was always eccentric at best, but a damn good football player and they were all living in my fucking house. To be fair, they paid rent, too, but I found the place. Screw them. I was allowed to have an off day.
Roman
I walked into the science building, knowing she would be in her biochemistry class down the hall. I had some bullshit life science class where the professor was a big Falcons fan, and if I skipped, he would make sure it didn’t fuck up my attendance. “Roman, you’re angry. Why?” Taylor sidled up beside me; her fingers curled around my neck.
I’d known Taylor since we were toddlers. It was basically written since the day we were born that our families wanted us to marry. Our parents had been best friends in college. My dad was already born into family legacy being the son of one of the largest tequila distributors in Mexico whose tradition dated back to the mid-eighteen hundreds. My father grew up in Jalisco, Mexico, earned a scholarship to the University of Texas, and set out to prove to the world he was not just living off the family money. He had a spectacular pedigree, but he also branched out on his own and started his own local tequila distillery thirty years ago in Austin, and it took off like wildfire. He made hand over fist money on that deal being one of the top US made tequilas in the world. My father expected me to follow in his footsteps and marry Taylor as if all things could be wrapped up in a nice big bow.
My playing football was never of much interest to him. He didn’t have to say it, but I knew when I talked about going to the pros, he laughed as though it were a fool’s dream. For as long as I could remember, he already had it set in his mind I’d step into the family business. Antoni was the one who seemed more well-suited to follow in my father’s footsteps. He fell in line along with everyone who worked for him because Robert Martinez was like King Midas. Pops had everything going for him for so long. Everything ended up golden for him, with the exception of my mother’s accident…
“Roman, hello? What is wrong with you?”
“Nothing. Why are you so dramatic all the time?”
“Stop it. You’re trying to avoid the question.”
I had a love/hate relationship with Taylor. Like I said, we knew our families had plotted for us to be together since we were kids. Although she had no feelings for me in the boyfriend sense, Taylor never went against her parents. She was never my choice either. I’d given my heart away years ago…It didn’t matter anymore. I got with the program, and here we were. Two performers pleasing our families.
“I’m here, what do you want?” My words were perfunctory.
“Where were you? You seemed to be off in your own world again.”
“I’m fucking here,” I stressed again. “Stop trying to point out my faults, or we can discuss your faults, too.”
“Shut up.”
Taylor was a beautiful, graceful girl who had no animosity as far as the rich girl cultural usually played out. She wasn’t vindictive; she wasn’t trying to take over the world as a rich bitch who bathed in Louis Vuitton. She very well could’ve played that part with ease if she had that type of personality. God knew the setting was already staged for her. However, she wasn’t like that. But she had her secrets, too. Maybe that’s why we worked so well together.
I caught a glimpse of Theodora entering the building as I stood in the main area like a fucking creeper, wanting more encounters with her. Hoping to find a reason to be alone with her. Did I really need a reason? I’d already fucked up my subtleness with her, and at this point I guess it really didn’t matter. Whether or not fueled by hate, well, that really didn’t matter either.