It makes me sick.
And angry.
I honestly don’t give a shit that Roan plays football. I’ve never cared about it. In fact, I think I’d actually like him more if all this fame or whatever-the-hell-it-is wasn’t attached to him. It’s really pathetic that no one else seems to feel the same way.
When I look at him now, I finally feel like I see the real Roan King.
The man beneath all the hype and bullshit.
I see the guy who drove me two and a half hours home and spent the entire day with my family, people he didn’t even know. I see the guy who made sure I was okay because he understood how difficult the situation was for me. It’s the same guy who wants to make sure we actually get to know one another before finally having sex. I see a guy who was able to move past his own prejudices and stereotypes to eventually change his notions about what a father needs to be.
The Roan King I’ve fallen for has absolutely nothing to do with football or the NFL. He’s smart and caring underneath all that protective armor he wears. And I’m starting to understand just why he has to protect himself the way he does.
The guy I’ve gotten to know over the past month is someone I’ve actually come to care about. I just wish everyone else could look past the pretty exterior to see the guy beneath all the football hype. Because he’s a really great guy. One worth knowing.
It’s quietly that Lexie finally asks, “Does this change the way you feel about him?”
Taking a deep breath, I force the words out slowly. “Yeah, I think it actually does.”
Sounding somewhat deflated, she admits, “Being with an athlete isn’t for everyone. It’s definitely not as easy as people seem to think it is.”
Shaking my head, I realize she’s totally misunderstood what I meant. “No, it actually makes me want him more because it seems like I’m the only one who wants him for who he is. And not all the bullshit that comes from being with him.”
A proud smile blooms its way across Lexie’s pretty face. “Now that’s the girl I know!” She gives me a little wink. “Those bitches aren’t going to know what hit them.”
Well… I don’t know about that, but sure… why not?
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Roan King wandering around the fine arts building??? What’s up with that? Hmmm… I can only imagine what he’s doing there. I have the sneaking suspicion that a certain dancer has something to do with this... KingOfCampus.com
Roan
Even though this is my fourth year attending Barnett, it’s the first time I’ve ever stepped foot inside the fine arts building. Ivy said she needed to stay late and work with one of her professors on a solo she’s preparing for a show at the end of first semester. I thought I’d meet her so we could head back to the apartment together. I hate the idea of her walking alone.
I head towards room 105… or maybe it’s a studio. I have no clue. All throughout the corridor there are framed photos of dancers. All of the women are long and lean with builds that are similar to Ivy’s. The men are muscular but not in a bulky, football-player-type of way. For just a moment I stop and study one of the posters.
Is this the kind of guy Ivy usually goes for?
Some artistic, scarf wearing, murse carrying dude who will cry at a foreign film?
The idea of having to sit through some horrendously boring movie with subtitles sends chills scampering right down my spine. Okay… let me just say that I did happen to catch Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon and that had subtitles, but it was the kick ass fight scenes that got me through it.
And if you actually suggest a murse or a scarf, I’ll pop you right in the nose. I’m not kidding about that either.
Hey, it’s not like I don’t have a soft side... because I do. But Ivy’s the only one who has ever taken the time to unearth it. Which only makes me like her more.
Moving on, I continue walking down the long corridor. I feel comfortable just about everywhere I go on campus. But here, in this building, I feel strangely out of place. As I pass by a group of people, their eyes flicker towards me but there’s zero recognition on their faces as they continue talking. It’s like I’m just an ordinary dude here.
Sure, it’s a little strange but not wholly unwelcome. Shoving my hands deep inside my pockets, I keep moving until I find the studio she’s practicing in. It’s the only lighted room in a hall full of closed doors.
As I get closer, I hear the music before I actually see her. My breath catches in the back of my throat as she soars gracefully through the air, legs stretched out perfectly straight. Landing on her toes, she tumbles into a somersault before leaping up. Her left leg swings out in back of her and then suddenly she’s spinning. Doing something where her upper body arrows towards the floor while one leg is held perfectly straight, pointed towards the ceiling.