Steamroller

It was ridiculous.

It was embarrassing.

My friends were probably very confused, and it was also very likely I was giving myself far too much credit to begin with. If Carson Cress was going to beat me up, he wouldn’t do it himself. He’d have some worshipful minion perform the deed.

Letting my head clunk back against the wall, I sank down onto the small wooden ledge beside the mirror.

I was going to put my cell phone underneath the door and take a picture to see if the coast was clear when a wadded-up something came flying over the top of the door and fell down into my lap.

Motherfucker.

It was a shirt, the familiar red jersey, the huge EU on the front in block letters and on the shoulders, and on the back, in black, the number five. Cress was emblazoned there as well, and when someone leaned against the wooden door, it creaked from the weight.

“Matt,” I began, “I—”

“Not Matt,” a voice said as fingers curled around the top, and I heard a deep, amused masculine chuckle. “Don’t know a Matt.”

Crap.

“I bet you’re sorry now, aren’t you, you conceited piece of crap?”

I swallowed down my heart.

“Bet I could get you fired.”

Tormenting me? This was what all-star athletes did?

“Did you hear me?”

“I bet ESPN would love to hear about that,” I croaked out, wishing my voice sounded a little sturdier.

“About what?”

“Using your clout on campus to get me fired,” I explained, my voice cracking. “They would have a field day with that.”

“Open the door.”

“Fuck you.”

“Don’t swear.”

Don’t swear? Don’t… and then I remembered. He was the poster boy for good Christian values and abstinence. While I found nothing wrong with his faith and even respected him for holding on to it, it was also something played up quite a bit in the media. “Better leave me alone. It’s bad for you to be seen talking to me. I mean, would Jesus be doing this?” I baited him.

“Doing what?”

“Talking to a gay guy?”

“I’m gonna go with ‘yeah.’”

Shit. “Yeah, but me being gay is bad for you.”

“How’s that?”

Was he kidding? “What about your vow of chastity?”

“I think they called it a ‘vow of celibacy’ in whatever magazine that was, but I didn’t.”

“Didn’t what?”

“Take a vow not to have sex.”

Weirdest conversation ever, and why was he talking to me through a door?

“Hello?”

“You didn’t take a vow? Are you sure?”

“Pretty sure,” he answered, placating me.

“But I think I read that in something reliable.”

“Well, I can promise you I’m not a monk or saving myself for marriage. I’m not that good. I didn’t take a vow of anything.”

“It’s none of my business.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Go away.”

“Let me in before I have you fired.”

We were back to the discussion at hand. “You can’t do that.” I sucked in a breath. “Jesus wouldn’t want you to.”

“Open… the door.”

“Go.” I paused as long as he had. “To hell.”

He almost choked on his laughter, which really pissed me off because he was so clearly amused, and then I heard him clear his throat. “Sweetheart, could you open this for me?” he called out, and I had a moment of terror before I realized that he wasn’t talking to me. “I think I left my wallet in here when I tried on something this morning.”

“Of course, Carson. Let me get that for you right now, Carson—I… crap, oh no, I got it, just—okay, I’m coming, Carson… I’m coming.”

I was sure the poor salesgirl was a flustered, flushed, fluttering mess. Something banged out on the sales floor, and I hoped it wasn’t her shin or her elbow on some corner. There was nothing worse than being all red-faced and embarrassed when you were trying to impress someone. I knew. I felt the same way about Phillip Brooks, one of the TAs in my chemistry class. When he taught labs, I turned into a stuttering, accident-prone, clumsy idiot. I had been avoiding him like the plague since I had taken a header into the fountain in front of Langley Hall when I was running to catch up with him. Not one of my finer moments.

“Are you okay?” I heard Carson ask the salesgirl.

“Yeah, I’m… yeah. Here you go.”

There was sighing I could hear even from where I was. I rolled my eyes and stood back, ready to be discovered.

“Oh no, I’ve got it,” he said before the knob was turned. “Thank you.”

The door opened just a fraction before he pushed inside and shut and locked it behind him. I squared my shoulders, drew myself up as tall as I could at five ten to his six three, took a breath, and lifted my eyes to his.

The heat there made my mouth go dry and rendered me mute, and it didn’t help at all that he was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen in my life. Far away, he was stunning. Up close… simply breathtaking.