Page 66 of Hating On Riot

“She came to all my games.”

He looks up and lets his arms hang off his knees as he stares straight ahead, lost in past memories.

“Trailed behind me in the hallways like a lovesick puppy. The kids made fun of her for it. Said I had a crazy shadow following me everywhere. I wanted to acknowledge our relationship, but Hope made me promise not to. She wanted me to treat her like she was dirt beneath my shoes. Had me say and do things to her that hurt her mentally and physically.” He grabs at his hair. “It was so fucked up, bruh, but we got off on that shit.”

“You two can have a do-over. It’s been four years, Coop.”

“I would, but she won’t talk to me. She wants me to do something to prove my love for her, but she won’t tell me what it is. Won’t even give me hints. I’ve texted and called, then she blocked me the day Arie moved into the rugby house.”

“You haven’t approached her on campus?” I ask in disbelief. Then I hang my head. I didn’t have the balls to approach Arie either.

“I tried, but that girl of mine can book the fuck out of there. It’s like she has the superpower of speed, you know?”

I don’t. I can catch up to Arie. But soon, with how much I’m training her to duck and dodge, and pull that heavy-ass wagon, she’ll be stronger and faster than she’s ever been in her life. No harm will come to her; her stamina and strength will protect her.

The thought of anyone hurting her boils my blood. I’ll tear any motherfucker to pieces if they lay their filthy hands on her or dare threaten my girl. The agony in Coop’s words pulls me out of my anger.

“Her parents’ divorce fucked her up, Riot. And I mean fucked her up. It’s why she meddles in others’ business. It’s the reason she does this pro bono,” he air-quotes, “matchmaking gig of hers. The students talk behind her back. They’re tired of her persistence, of her getting in their grill about love and happily-ever-after. But her persistence and belief in love is what has me still hung up on her.” He heaves a heavy sigh.

I shake my head. “Jesus, Wilder, what the two of you have is toxic and a fucking head case. How can I help?”

“Get Emily talking about what Hope wants from me to show her I love her.”

“I can do that, buddy.”

“Thanks, Riot.”

We get up off the ground. I brush the dirt and dead grass off my pants. We start walking to our respective classes.

“Hey, there’s something I overlooked. Arie’s brothers can’t know she’s been staying at the rugby house, but she can’t go back to her place either. She’ll be too vulnerable. Would you mind if she stayed at your place? I’ll head over and set booby traps. The game should be short.”

We’ve been group texting since last night, strategizing how we’ll take down our thirty opponents quickly and efficiently. We decided to split into pairs. Ten of us. Five pairs. Thirty opponents. Six students per pair. Yep, we can win this.

We’ve all logged on to Professor Wilson’s scoreboard that shows the team members. With each blaster hit, that student has to check in and say they’re out of the game. This class isn’t just about teamwork; it's about honor.

Basis of Human Behavior. Fuck sakes, what a mouthful, but I am so grateful I enrolled in the elective. Enrolling led me back to my dream girl.

“Works for me.”

We fist bump. “Thanks, bro, for having Arie’s back all these years. You’re a good guy, and I’m happy it was you who kept my girl safe from the randy dudes who would have no qualms taking advantage of her kindness.”

“I take it she told you she’s a virgin?”

My attention darts around the near-empty campus. Everyone is in their classes, and we are running late. “Don’t say it too loudly. My girl is private.”

Coop chuckles. “That she is. It’s what ruined us. She held back personal things from me. Things that would’ve deepened our friendship.” He shrugs. “It’s something left over from Hope that I was hoping,” he smirks, “to have let go of by the end of freshman year, but it kind of stuck. It’s hard to shake off wanting to know every little personal detail about Arie when Hope shared everything with me.” He shakes his head. “I love her so much, yet I couldn’t give her what she needed—a hug, a shoulder to cry on, my mouth on hers, the strength from my body.”

“You were a kid, bro. Give up the ghost, already. Now, you’re a man, on the cusp of being a full-grown adult male. Seize the day and show your woman she is yours and you are hers.”

There’s a beat of silence. Then he barks out a laugh and smacks my shoulder hard. “Thanks, Riot.” He tips his head at the gym. “This is me.”

I quirk a brow.

“Sports medicine,” he says with a sheepish grin. “I love sports too much to ever leave the game behind.”

I cup the back of my head. “Makes sense.”

“You?”