SNAPPED (The Slate Brothers 1)
“I’d like to talk,” he says shortly.
“Here?”
“No,” he says, eyes flicking back to where my roommates are looming. “Someplace private.”
I force and exhale, but nod. “Yeah, just— let me get my shoes, okay?”
14
I don’t know where we’re headed, exactly, but I follow Sebastian down the stairs and onto campus. We keep a small amount of space between one another, but Sebastian seems to be fighting to keep his hands in his pockets— I think he wants to wrap his arm around me, like we did that morning we went out for breakfast. Moreover, I want him to. My mom said I have to live my own life, didn’t she? That you couldn’t let your parents dictate who you have feelings for?
Of course, my mom thought I was talking about Maddy, not myself and Dennis Slate’s son, but…still.
“So. You were a New Recruits Week spy,” Sebastian says with an air of sarcastic amusement in his voice.
“Yes. I’m working with the student advocacy group, and the lawyer running my section basically thinks New Recruits Week is the devil’s work. So…”
“And because of that, you don’t think we should see one another?” Sebastian asks.
“It just…I mean, it seems like a conflict of interest. I can’t give up the advocacy group. It’s important, especially for a pre-law major,” I say. “It’s a huge part of who I am.”
“Spying on players hooking up is a huge part of who you are?”
I steady myself, then dare to say it. “Justice is a huge part of who I am. Pursuing it is a huge part of who I am.” I meet his eyes, and even though I know it’s impossible, I wish he knew that New Recruits Week is only a fraction of the “conflict of interest” as far as I’m concerned.
Instead, Sebastian nods. “Mine too, actually.” I know he’s talking about his father, of course, but he’s so sincere that it makes me freeze in place. He takes another few steps, then turns around to see why I’ve stopped. “What?”
“Nothing. I just— we have a lot in common, but not in the ways I’d have expected,” I stammer, shaking my head and hurrying to catch back up. We’re toward the center of campus, now, which is dark, with enormous oak trees blotting out the stars above. A few students are zipping to or from the library, and a few others cutting across to get to downtown in their going-out-best. I’m grateful that the darkness means they don’t recognize Sebastian and gawk at who he’s with.
Sebastian looks at me as we continue on in slow, dawdling steps. “What if I told you that I don’t give a flying fuck about the conflict of interest? Spy on me. Spy on the rest of the team. I think you’re going to see that New Recruits Week isn’t something you need to seek justice from. Or…for. Or whatever.”
“What if I don’t see that, though? What if I agree with the lawyer, and we try to stop the whole thing?” I test him.
Sebastian shrugs. “That’s fine too. Doing the right thing is more important than football. I know it’s basically sacrilege for me to say that, especially in my family, but it’s true. I’m a senior, I’m nearly done with college ball, and I’m focused on the NFL. I really don’t care if incoming freshman get their week of parties and drinking or not. If they’re good players, they’ll want to come here because we have a great team that hopefully, I’ve helped make even greater. If they’re the type of guys who look elsewhere because we stopped handing out free PBRs, then I don’t want them here anyway.”
“Seriously? But…does the rest of the team feel like that?”
“I have no idea. Some of them like to party, so probably not. But that’s fine. We have to play together, but we don’t always have to agree on what happens off the field.”
“Won’t they be pretty pissed, though, if you’re with a girl who is sort of raining on their binge drinking and sexism parade?”
Sebastian snorts at my choice of words. “Are you trying to argue your way out of being with me?”
“No.”
He stops, and turns, a triumphant look in his eyes. “So you do want to be with me.”
I flush, bite my lip. “Of course I do.”
His eyes darken as he takes a step toward me. My body tenses, but it’s not at all like the freezing situation that happened back when we met the first time; it’s like the crest of a roller coaster’s hill. I lock up, in anticipation of something amazing. He steps closer, then sweeps his arms around me and lifts me up against him. My legs lock around his waist immediately, like we’ve practiced this, and he kisses me deeply, aggressively, like he’s making up for the week we lost. I slip my tongue into his mouth delicately, and he nips at it, then sucks on my lip just long enough that I feel my core heat up, wanting him to suck me in other, more private places…