The Quarterbacks Kiss

7 | Studio light

"Let it hurt, then let it go."
౨ৎ ౨ৎ ౨ৎ
Eve

The laces of my dance shoes were stubborn today, fraying and worn like they were begging to be replaced. I tugged harder, finally getting them secure. The studio smelled like wood polish and old sweat, but it was comforting in its own way—predictable. Familiar. I stretched out, letting the music fill the space as I swayed to the beat, my reflection watching me from the mirrored walls.

Dancing always cleared my head, but not today. Not when my mind was tangled in thoughts of Carson. His stupid smirk, the way his grey eyes softened when he wasn't trying so hard to keep up his facade . The way his cologne—no, not cologne, just him—lingered like leather and something warm I couldn't name.

t wasn't just attraction—it couldn't be. There was a part of me that wanted to reach out, to understand him. And that terrified me because people like me didn't belong in his world.

I shook my head, trying to chase the thoughts away. Carson Blake wasn't my problem. He shouldn't be, at least. But somehow, he kept finding a way into my life, my thoughts, my... everything.

The door creaked open, snapping me out of my thoughts. I turned to see Elijah step in, his hands shoved into the pockets of his hoodie.

"You're here early," he said finally, his voice calm but loaded.

I shrugged, not looking at him. "Needed to clear my head."

"Something on your mind?"

I turned away, focusing on my stretch. "Nothing worth talking about."

Elijah made a sound low in his throat, a mix of disapproval and concern. He had this way of seeing through people, like he was always watching for cracks.

It made sense, I guess—my brother had been his captain and friend for two years, part of the unofficial big-brother squad that always seemed to hover around me. Even now, after my brother had graduated and moved on, Elijah still acted like I was some kid who needed babysitting.

"I ran into Carson at the gym," he said, his tone heavy with meaning.

I stiffened before I could stop myself. "And?"

"And he asked about you," Elijah said, eyes narrowing. "Look, Eve, I don't know what's going on there, but I'm telling you now—it's a bad idea. Carson Blake isn't someone you need in your life."

I rolled my eyes, turning my back to him as I stretched out my leg. "Why? Because his family's loaded? Or because he's the golden boy on campus?"

"Because he's trouble," Elijah snapped, his voice sharp.

"You don't even know him," I snapped.

"I know enough." Elijah stepped closer, his voice low but firm. "Guys like Carson—rich, entitled, always used to getting what they want—they're trouble. You don't need that in your life, Eve. Not after... everything."

I froze, my chest tightening. He didn't know—he couldn't know—but the way he said it made it clear he had a sense of the storm I'd been through. The headlines about my dad had been impossible to miss, the scandal plastered across every tabloid. But Elijah didn't know the worst of it—the bruises, the yelling, the nights I hid in my room, praying it would stop.

"You don't know what you're talking about," I said, my voice cold.

Elijah hesitated, frustration flickering across his face. "I'm just saying—"

"Don't," I cut him off. "I don't need you to protect me. I can handle myself."

He sighed, running a hand through his hair, but he didn't argue.

My phone buzzed on the bench by the wall. I walked over, grabbing it without thinking, but the second I saw the name on the screen, my stomach dropped. Dad.

I swallowed hard and opened the message.

Dad: You can't ignore me forever, Eve. I need that money and you're going to send it. Don't make me come find you. You know what'll happen if you push me.

My chest tightened, and I quickly locked the screen, the words burning into my mind.

"Elijah, I've got to go," I said abruptly, shoving my phone into my bag.

"Eve, wait—"

But I was already out the door, the sound of my footsteps echoing down the hallway.

By the time I got back to my dorm, my hands were still shaking. I kept replaying the message in my head, my dad's threats like a weight pressing down on my chest. He couldn't find me here—he wouldn't. But the fear was still there, gnawing at the edges of my resolve.

I pushed open the door to my dorm, expecting silence, but Katie was sprawled across her bed, scrolling through her phone. She looked up and grinned.

"There you are!" she said, sitting up. "Perfect timing. You're coming with me tonight."

I blinked, trying to process her words. "What?"

"To the football game!" she said, like it was obvious. "You've been moping around all week. You need to get out."

"I haven't been—"

"Oh, please. You have. Don't argue." She tossed some clothes at me, her grin widening. "We have to leave in an hour."

I hesitated, but Katie was relentless. And honestly, maybe she was right. A distraction sounded good—anything to stop thinking about my dad or the situation with Carson.

"Fine," I muttered, pulling the clothes to my chest and retreating into the bathroom. "But you're buying snacks."

She laughed, grabbing her makeup. "Deal."

As we stepped out into the hot shower, I decided, just for tonight, to push everything else away.

౨ৎ ౨ৎ ౨ৎ ౨ৎ

GET READY FOR SOME TENSIONNNNNNNNNN

Guys I know the chapter is short but I am so tired so I can't be bothered to write😛😛😛😛😛😛😛😛