Heart of Thorns (Shadow Valley U Book 2)
Heart of Thorns: Chapter 16

Ben fucking Patterson.

He’s not at our table, luckily, but he is close. And he keeps glancing over like he can’t put two and two together. It’s not so unbelievable that Briar and I are together, is it? She’s gorgeous. Yes, she scowls or frowns more than she smiles, and she only wears black, and she seems like she’s one snide comment away from ripping your face off…

But she’s soft, too. Her hand is still caught in mine, and neither of us have made any move to pull away. She’s nervous—but what surprised me was my nerves.

It’s true: I haven’t had a real girlfriend. Never wanted—or needed—one. Until now anyway. Now… I squeeze her fingers, and she squeezes back almost instantly.

The booth we’re in is comprised mostly of my offensive end. There’s Rhys, obviously, the greatest running back at Shadow Valley. My center, Aaron Jacobs, and his long-time girlfriend. Her name escapes me… I kind of just assumed, when they got together freshman year, that they’d be a fling.

And then they just stayed together, and I couldn’t very well admit that I never bothered to learn her name. That kind of makes me seem like an asshole, and I really try not to be.

Names are just not my strong suit.

Patterson is a corner like Stephen McDowell. They’re best friends, too. They even kind of resemble each other, in a weird way. You know how people look like their dogs?

That’s Ben Patterson and Stephen McDowell.

Ben’s the dog in that scenario. Just, you know, for the record.

“How did you two meet?” Aaron’s girlfriend asked. “We didn’t know you were dating anyone, Thorne.”

Shit, that’s probably something we should’ve talked about. Briar and me, I mean. We didn’t really talk about what we were going to say to people. The lack of experience on my end, about how to navigate this precise situation, makes my heart pound.

I’d rather be staring down a monster than try to figure out the right thing to say in this situation.

“He picked me up off the sidewalk,” Briar says.

Her voice cuts through my anxieties.

“Some jerk passed me, and his backpack was open, spilling baseballs all over the place.”

I nod sharply. “Anyone would’ve fallen. It was a hazard.”

“You were sure-footed.” She turns her gaze on me, somehow softening her eyes—hell, her whole expression seems gentle. “I think I nearly bit your head off when you tried to help me.”

I grin. “I was gonna leave that part of the story out.”

“It was part of my irresistible charm.”

She’s right.

“Anyway,” She breaks our staring contest and focuses back on Aaron’s girl. “He walked me to campus and got my number, and the rest is history.”

“Quiet history,” one of my receivers says. “Thorne hasn’t mentioned you.”

“That’s on me, too,” Briar blurts out. “I didn’t want to… I mean…”

“It’s a lot of pressure,” I cut in. “Dating me can’t be easy. We wanted to be sure of where this is going before we made it public.”

Rhys nods along, catching my eye. He doesn’t do anything to give me away, but he does seem to be enjoying this.

The waitress arrives with pitchers of beer for the table, and I pour one for Briar, then myself. I gulp down half of it at once and lean back in the U-shaped booth. She’s on the inside, next to the latest girl my tight end is dating.

I hook my arm around her shoulders.

We said hand-holding and shit. This is the and shit.

She doesn’t even stiffen, just sinks farther into me, and the conversation moves on from us to something else. I don’t really know. It slips in one ear and out the other.

“What kind of pizza do you like?” I ask in her ear.

She tilts her head back to meet my gaze. “Hawaiian.”

Pineapple and ham?

Gross.

“Pepperoni and mushroom for me,” I tell her, even though she didn’t ask. “Pineapple should be found nowhere near cheese.”

She snickers. “Uh-huh. Hater.”

“Maybe.”

“Have you ever actually tried it?”

The waitress arrives and takes our order—and before I can order, Briar does for me.

Us.

“Half Hawaiian, half pepperoni and mushroom, please. Oh, and can I get a personal one with extra cheese to go?” At my questioning gaze, she explains, “My roommate wanted one.”

I dip my chin. “That was nice of you, grumpy cat. Maybe you’re full of rainbows and sunshine on the inside.”

“I thought you were the sunshine guy.” Her gaze drops to my lips. “And here you are, quiet… almost sullen.”

She’s got a point.

“How would you be acting if I wasn’t here?”

Louder.

More sure of myself, absolutely. It’s a little bit funny how withdrawn I feel—and just because of this unstable footing. I lied to my parents, told them I had a girlfriend, and now, by simple agreement, I have one.

A fake one, but still.

And now we have to be convincing, when I’ve never fucking done this. Never fumbled my way through a real date, the kind that included holding hands and walking the girl to her car, going in for a first kiss.

My heart lurches at the thought.

Do I get to do that with Briar?

This agreement has put our relationship on a fast track. We’re supposed to be beyond that. The awkwardness.

She’s right.

While she’s had no trouble blending in with my friends, making conversation, leaning into my side, I am stiff.

I nod, both to her and myself, and readjust.

I tune back in to the story Rhys is telling and casually reach for my beer.

Briar threads her fingers through mine, the hand that hangs off her shoulder. Her nails are even painted black, but her skin is warm.

“…and I kid you not, that goose had it out for us.” Rhys leans back. “It was fucking hissing.”

I remember that. I jump in with, “I’ve never seen Rhys move so fucking fast. You would’ve thought he was being chased by the whole Crown Point football team.”

Laughter.

“Hissing,” Rhys repeats. “And what did you do while I was running for my life?”

“Recording it.” I chuckle. “That is blackmail gold, I’m telling you.”

“This is why you don’t mess with Canadian geese,” Aaron mutters. “They’re vicious.”

“Did you know they have teeth?”

I groan and shake my finger at Rhys. “Don’t start.”

“Thorne. They. Are. Monsters!”

“They actually don’t have teeth,” Briar interjects. “Their bills just have serrated ridges.”

I throw my head back and die laughing. She doesn’t laugh as much, or talk as loud. But the girl knows how to work some comedic timing.

When the pitchers of beer have run out, and our pizzas are gone—minus the extra cheese one in a box in front of Briar—we finally call it quits.

“Are we splitting the bill?” Briar asks.

Rhys quirks his brow. “You guys need to get out more.”

I glare at him.

He holds up his hands. “I mean, you know, get out of the house, sex maniacs. A relationship can’t be built on fucking.”

“Rhys.”

He laughs. “Right. What I mean is⁠—”

“I paid,” I interrupt. There’s no way in hell I was letting Briar try to cover her portion of the tab. Not when my credit card is linked to my parents’ accounts, and they have so much money they could lose most of it and still not notice. So what if I pay for my friends’ dinners, too? I know that’s not the reason they hang out with me, which is why I do it. “We’re good to go. Let me give you a ride home.”

I take her box and slide out of the booth. The defensive end, at their table, is mostly gone. Ben fucking Patterson and Stephen are still there, though, and the former lifts his head to glower at me. I didn’t pay their tab. Nothing against Stephen, but I’m not covering Patterson’s food ever again.

I curl my arm back around Briar’s shoulders and guide her out. I keep my pace slow, aware that her knee might be aching. Mine always twinged after sitting for too long, and I don’t know if she was able to stretch it out under the table.

She met me here, but I would hazard a guess she walked. So she doesn’t put up much protest—okay, no protest—when I show her to my car.

I open the passenger door for her, and she lowers herself in. Then reaches for the handle, but my grip on the top edge tightens.

I lean down into the opening. “I had fun tonight.”

“Are you okay to drive?” Her gaze roves my face.

“Yes.”

“Okay.”

“Briar?”

She blinks. Big, brown eyes. The moonlight comes in through the windshield, illuminating half of her face. Full lips. No scowl.

“Cassius?”

I sigh. “I told you⁠—”

“The agreement was to not insinuate I was after your money,” she whispers. “And there’s no one around to put on a show for, is there?”

“There’s always an audience.” I sway closer to her face. “That’s the catch, kitten.”

“Kitten.” Her nose wrinkles.

“Yeah. Because when you look at me like you are… you’re not so much a grumpy cat as you are a kitten. Sweet. Maybe a little spicy.” I shrug. “Time will tell.”

“I’m losing track of all the nicknames you have for me. And I’ve got…”

“My real name.” I step back, slowly straightening. She doesn’t say it the way my parents do, with disdain. She says it like it’s the one version of me she wants to know. And I can’t even argue against it. No one’s seen that side of me in a really long time. “Okay. Keep it, then.”

“I will,” she whispers, just as I close the door.

At least, that’s what I think she says.

Maybe it’s just wishful thinking to believe she’ll hold on to something as important as that.