Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 80199 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 401(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80199 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 401(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
“Lark,” someone called behind me, and I recognized his voice immediately—that rich tenor and deliciously deep. Nope, not going there with him.
I turned to find Henry standing there, all tall stature and perfectly styled hair, like he belonged in a catalog for hot college guys.
“So you do recognize me,” I said, and he winced. “And now that your friends aren’t around and we don’t have an audience, it’s safe to acknowledge me?”
“I…” He shook his head. “I’m sorry. At first, I wasn’t sure if my eyes were deceiving me. You look… You’re all grown up.”
I smirked. “So are you.” I refused to take in all those muscles and the five o’clock shadow on his jaw that I could never grow no matter how hard I tried. I would probably remain baby-faced until middle age.
“I know I sound like an idiot. I just mean…” He leaned toward me and lowered his voice. “Nobody knows about me. About what I went through back then.”
I felt gobsmacked. “That you had cancer?”
“Shh, lower your voice.”
“It’s not like we had leprosy. We’re both alive and should feel thankful.”
“Of course I’m thankful. Every damned day.”
My thoughts drifted back to seven years ago when he walked out of my room that final time and how hot my face was from that accidental kiss. I’d been curious ever since whether he’d made it or not. “Did you ever relapse?”
“No, you?”
“I thought… There was one time when my fever spiked for a few days.” My stomach constricted as I remembered how worried my mom was. “But then it broke and ended up being the flu.”
“I’m glad.” His smile was genuine. “I’ve wondered over the years.”
“Me too.” His gaze took me in from my hair down to my toes, and my cheeks caught fire. I stared at a fixed point over his shoulder, which helped me school my features. “Do you, uh, still love sports?”
His lips parted as if he didn’t think I’d remember that detail about him. “Uh-huh.”
“And let me guess, the friends you were with this morning were teammates?”
“Yeah, sorry about that.” His face blotted red. “I, uh, play football.”
“What position?”
“I’m the Sentinels’ quarterback.”
“That explains everything.”
If it was the same as the jocks in high school, then they were tight-knit and pretty exclusive. Even after you gave one of them a blowjob. Though I could still thank him for the crash course.
His eyebrows drew together. “It does?”
“I mean, mostly?” I adjusted my bag on my shoulder, feeling way too fidgety. “Your teammates wouldn’t understand about your cancer?”
“I need to be strong to lead the team.”
“And surviving cancer is a weak look?”
What the hell?
“It’s my parents… They have tons of expectations. They think keeping my health history on the down-low is for the best. This is where my dad went to college, and he knows the coach and the dean…”
And must’ve made a hefty donation to the school as well.
“Is there a building named after him around here or something?” I quipped.
He quirked a smile. “Probably will be at some point. They’re actually not as bad as some of the other parents.”
“Okay, then.” I guess I wouldn’t know what it was like to have that sort of pressure from your well-to-do parents. “But just so I understand, admitting you had cancer would somehow ruin your reputation—or is it your status on the team?”
“My dad doesn’t want anyone to have preconceived notions about my health or…”
“How very ableist of him.”
“You’re right, of course, and we’ve argued about it, but…” He made a frustrated sound like even he didn’t understand it. “Maybe I don’t get his logic, but I’m just trying to get through college.”
By using his parents’ money. Like most of the other students. Again, it was likely the kind of pressure I couldn’t relate to. Except the part about making it through as well.
“No worries. I get it…I think.” It wasn’t like we were going to be friends; that was obvious, so what did it matter if I got it or not? “Anyway, your secret is safe with me.” I turned to leave, but his fingers wrapped around my wrist.
“Wait, are you here because—”
“Of a scholarship, yes.”
His face turned scarlet. “That’s not what I meant.”
“For dance.”
He smiled a little. “I remember how much you loved music.”
“Yep, still do.” I waited another beat, then said, “Well, see you around, Henners.”
He gasped and stared at me.
“That’s your nickname, right?”
Another jock ritual was to have ridiculous nicknames. Though I did like Henners. It had a nice ring to it.
“You remember that?”
“No. Well, not until I heard your friends call you that.”
He grimaced as if recalling the morning interaction. “What else did you hear?”
“Enough,” I replied, and he frowned. “But I’ve…gotta go.”
No way I wanted his sympathy, so I forced my legs to move toward the dining hall.
“Lark?” he called after me.
I glanced over my shoulder. “Yeah?”