Second Chance: A Military Football Romance

The crowd had definitely turned on Trent. Quinn stood with her hands on her hips. If my clenched fist and the combined disapproval of the other drinkers were not enough, the look on her face was enough to make him turn tail and run.

Chapter Eight

Quinn

It was impossible to concentrate in class. The lecturer was doing her best with slides and models and some of the most graphic photographs any of us had seen. It did not matter. All I could think about was Owen.

The kiss had been like honey – slow, sweet, and it had clung to my lips long after Trent interrupted us. Owen had laughed all the way home about the look on Trent's face. I wanted to revel in it too, but I could still taste Owen on my lips. How could he kiss me like that and then pretend it was nothing?

The lecturer started on a new procedure, and I tried to take notes on the research. Three bullet points and my mind was off on another daydream. I kept dreaming up scenarios in which Owen and I would have to kiss again. Maybe he was being pursued by some video game groupie and he wanted to put her off nicely. Or I was being flirted with by some wildly inappropriate man and Owen took my safety into his own hands.

No matter what scheme I created, I knew deep down that might have been the last kiss I ever shared with Owen.

"How was class?" Darla asked when I returned to our dorm room. She sat cross-legged on my bed with a still-steaming cup of coffee.

"I have no idea," I said. "Thanks for the coffee. What's the occasion?"

"Well, for one, I'm glad you are back," Darla said. She moved over and made room for me to sit down. "And secondly, it’s been too long since we had a little gossip session."

My heart tripped. I loved gossip, but there had been too much about me lately. It was still hard to walk around campus without people offering condolences or whispering about Sienna behind my back. Plus, Trent had been seen all over campus making out with various men, and our breakup was public news.

I sipped my coffee. "I heard some students might protest tomorrow. A sit-in outside the admin office."

Darla shook her head. "Want to know what I heard?" she asked.

"I have a feeling I don't want to know at all."

"Too bad, because what I heard is just way too delicious not to talk about. I mean, you can trust me, we'll gossip about it, but nothing will leave this room," Darla said.

"Oh, God, it must be worse than I thought. What did Trent do now?"

"Trent? You mean besides mope, weep, and have jealous fits all over campus?" Darla took a quick sip of her coffee, but could not be coy for more than four seconds. "Alright, so Trent told everyone he caught you making out with some stud in Vegas. I asked him about it, and turns out I've met the guy. Haven't I?"

"No," I said.

Darla slapped my shoulder. "No way. You are a terrible liar, Quinn. You kissed Owen, didn't you?"

"No. He kissed me," I said. "And it was only to make Trent jealous. He was just being a good friend."

"Well, I have it on good authority that it was a hot and heavy make-everyone-in-the-bar-jealous kind of a kiss," Darla said.

"That's good, right?" I asked, hoping to steer the conversation in a better direction. "And it sounds like it worked. So, Trent is really jealous?"

"Oh, who cares about him?" Darla asked. "Tell me more about Owen! I know you've been not-so-secretly in love with him forever. Bet that kiss made it feel more than reciprocated, am I right?"

My shoulders slumped. "I have no idea. Owen never said anything afterwards."

"And what about you?"

"What do you think?"

Darla sighed. "That you melt at the thought of it and think about it all the time. I know I would."

"Oh my God, Darla. What am I going to do?"

"Answer your phone, that's for sure," she said. Darla handed me my phone.

It was Owen.