Rumor Has It I'm Dating the Football Captain

Chapter 62: Chapter 62: The Morning After

The morning sunlight pierced through the gap in the window blinds, hitting Zoya directly in the eyes.

She let out a quiet groan. Her head felt like it had been split open with a hammer. Her mouth was completely dry, and her body felt incredibly heavy.

She tried to roll over, but she couldn’t. There was a heavy, solid weight draped securely across her waist.

Zoya slowly opened her eyes.

She was in her own bed. The sheets were a tangled mess. She looked down and saw a thick, muscular arm wrapped tightly around her stomach. The scent of expensive cologne, clean sweat, and boy filled her small room.

Zoya froze. Her entire body went totally rigid.

The memories of last night flooded her brain in a chaotic rush. The loud club. The alleyway. The clumsy kiss at the door. Begging him to stay. Pulling him into her bedroom.

She slowly turned her head to look at the other pillow.

Jackson was sleeping right next to her. His messy brown hair was scattered across her white pillowcase. His broad chest rose and fell in a slow, steady rhythm. He looked completely peaceful.

Zoya felt a massive wave of pure, unfiltered panic crash into her chest.

Oh my god, she thought frantically. I slept with Jackson. I slept with the loudest, most annoying guy on campus. I completely lost my mind.

She carefully lifted his heavy arm off her waist. She held her breath, praying he wouldn’t wake up. She slid off the edge of the mattress and quickly grabbed her long silk robe from the back of the door. She wrapped it tightly around her body and tied the belt with shaking hands.

She looked at him. The panic quickly morphed into a desperate need for control. She had to fix this. She had to get him out before Audrey or Chloe woke up.

Zoya walked back to the bed. She nudged his shoulder firmly.

"Wake up," Zoya hissed quietly.

Jackson shifted on the mattress. He let out a low groan, slowly opening his dark eyes. He blinked against the sunlight. He saw her standing by the bed and a slow, lazy smile spread across his handsome face.

"Morning, encyclopedia," Jackson mumbled. His voice was thick and raspy from sleep. He reached his hand out toward her. "Come back to bed."

Zoya took a quick step backward, completely avoiding his hand.

"Get up," Zoya ordered. Her voice was pure ice. "You need to leave. Right now."

Jackson’s smile faltered. He dropped his hand. He sat up slowly, the sheets falling down to his waist. He ran a hand through his messy hair, looking completely confused.

"What?" Jackson asked. "What time is it? Are your roommates awake?"

"It does not matter what time it is," Zoya snapped softly. She grabbed his gray t-shirt from the floor and threw it directly at his chest. "Put your clothes on and get out."

Jackson caught the shirt. The sleepy confusion in his eyes vanished, quickly replaced by a sharp, offended glare.

He stared at her. He saw the cold, detached mask perfectly glued to her face. He saw her arms crossed tightly over her chest.

"Are you serious right now?" Jackson asked. His voice dropped completely flat.

"Deadly serious," Zoya replied quickly. She refused to make eye contact with him. "Last night was a massive mistake. I was drunk. I was exhausted. I wasn’t thinking clearly."

Jackson’s jaw locked. He gripped the gray t-shirt tightly in his fists.

"A mistake," Jackson repeated. The hurt in his voice was impossible to hide.

"Yes," Zoya lied smoothly. "It was just the alcohol. It didn’t mean anything. Let’s just pretend it never happened. Grab your shoes."

Jackson did not argue. He did not try to convince her.

He threw the blanket off and stood up. He pulled his t-shirt over his head in one sharp, angry motion. He grabbed his jeans and pulled them on in total silence.

The silence in the room was suffocating. Zoya felt a sudden, sharp pinch in her chest, but she ignored it. She needed her walls back. She needed her safe, predictable life back.

Jackson grabbed his heavy varsity jacket from the floor. He slung it over his broad shoulder. He walked toward the bedroom door, but he stopped right in front of her.

He looked down at her. The playful, arrogant football player was completely gone. His dark eyes were fiercely cold.

"I told you last night," Jackson said. His voice was dangerously quiet. "I told you that you would hate me in the morning. And you promised you wouldn’t."

Zoya swallowed the lump in her throat. "I don’t hate you. I just want you to leave."

"Right," Jackson scoffed bitterly. "Don’t worry, Zoya. Your perfect little reputation is safe. I won’t tell anyone you lowered your standards for one night."

He walked past her, his shoulder brushing roughly against hers. He opened her bedroom door, stepped out into the quiet hallway, and pulled the front door open.

A second later, the front door clicked shut.

He was gone.

Zoya stood alone in her bedroom. She let out a long, ragged breath. Her knees felt weak. She walked over to the door and locked it. She leaned her back against the wood and slid down until she hit the floor.

She got exactly what she wanted. She was completely alone. She was in control again.

So why did she feel like she wanted to cry?

Thirty minutes later, Zoya walked out of her bedroom. She had taken a hot shower, tied her dark hair into a perfect, neat bun, and dressed in a crisp white button-down shirt. She looked flawless.

She walked into the kitchen.

Audrey was standing by the stove, flipping pancakes. Chloe was sitting on a barstool, drinking a large cup of black coffee.

"Morning," Audrey smiled cheerfully.

"You look terrible," Chloe noted bluntly.

Zoya paused. She poured herself a cup of coffee with steady hands. "I look exactly the same as I always do."

"Your face is pale," Chloe pointed out. She squinted over the rim of her coffee mug. "And you have dark circles under your eyes. Did you study all night?"

"No," Zoya said flatly. She took a sip of her coffee. "My coursemates forced me to go to a bar last night. They made me drink terrible blue shots. I have a headache."

Audrey turned around, holding a spatula in absolute shock. "You went to a bar? You?"

"It was a momentary lapse in judgment," Zoya muttered. She stared down into her black coffee. "I left early. I walked home alone and went straight to sleep."

Chloe raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure you walked home alone? You didn’t do anything stupid, did you?"

Zoya felt her heart skip a beat, but her face remained entirely completely blank.

"I am incapable of doing stupid things," Zoya lied smoothly. "I am going to the library. I have a paper to write."

She grabbed her heavy leather tote bag and walked out of the apartment before they could ask any more questions.

The campus library was quiet and warm.

Zoya sat at her usual corner table by the large windows. She had three massive law textbooks open in front of her. Her laptop screen was glowing.

She stared at the same paragraph for twenty minutes. The words made absolutely no sense.

Every time she closed her eyes, she remembered the heat of Jackson’s hands. She remembered the way he carried her. She remembered how incredibly gentle he had been in the dark.

She aggressively flipped a page in her textbook. Focus, she yelled at herself internally.

The heavy wooden doors of the library swung open.

Zoya glanced up.

Jackson walked in. He was wearing his gray sweatpants and a black hoodie. Two of his football teammates were walking right behind him, laughing loudly.

Zoya’s chest tightened instantly. Usually, this was the exact moment Jackson would leave his friends, walk over to her table, and bother her. He would steal her pens or make a stupid joke just to see her roll her eyes.

She braced herself. She built up her icy wall, ready to give him a sarcastic insult.

Jackson stopped walking. He looked across the library. His dark eyes locked directly onto hers.

Zoya held her breath.

Jackson stared at her for exactly three seconds. His expression was completely blank. There was no teasing smile. There was no arrogant smirk.

He just looked away.

He turned his back to her completely and walked with his teammates toward the opposite side of the library. He sat down at a table far away, pulling a notebook out of his bag. He did not look in her direction again.

Zoya sat perfectly still in her chair.

The cold shoulder hit her harder than any insult could have. He was completely ignoring her. He was treating her like she didn’t even exist.

She looked down at her textbook. Her hands were shaking slightly.

She had pushed him away to protect her pride, but sitting in the quiet library, completely ignored by the loudest guy on campus, Zoya suddenly realized she had made a massive mistake.