Page 9 of Brick Wall
The last thing I want is to be rejected yet again by you.
Fuck. Those words have been echoing in my ears since she spoke them.
The last thing I want to do is make her feel rejected by me, especially since that wasn’t my intention. It didn’t occur tome that she’d consider that a rejection anyway.
She was so smart and confident at the bar.
I haven’t had that easy of a conversation with a woman in a long time, maybe ever.
And then I ruined it, of course.
I jumped to conclusions without getting the facts.
The fact is, my best friend and teammate, Calvin, was sitting next to me and overheard our entire conversation. He had the biggest laugh, at my expense, naturally.
Eventually, after he stopped laughing and quoting her, he agreed with everything the practical stranger said to me.Some best friend he is.
Since Cal was annoying at the bar, I went over to Bryce and Goldie’s table and introduced myself. I apologized to Goldie for not doing so earlier, and we got to know each other better.
Goldie was, in fact, great.
She’s not my type at all. She’s too cute and petite for my personal tastes. She’s probably a foot and a half shorter than me, and although there’s nothing wrong with being small, I’m a big guy. I don’t want to worry about crushing someone, especially in the bedroom. I tend to prefer tall and sturdy women.
I can see why Bryce was instantly taken with Goldie, though. She’s warm and bubbly and treats everyone like a long-lost friend.
Bryce and Goldie make a good pair, and I let my own bias bring me down. Goldie is nothing like I thought she would be.
Alexawas right.Damn, I need to figure out her real name.
I hop out of the golf cart and gesture to the attendant that I’ve got it from here. I didn’t attend college at CHU, but I’vebeen here a few times to know where I’m going. An old buddy of mine works in the athletic center, and I want to pay him a quick visit while I’m on campus.
I walk down a long, quiet hallway that primarily has offices until I reach the end of the hallway and knock on the door.
Adam, the Associate Athletic Director at Chestnut Hill University, greets me.
“You busy?” I question as he engulfs me in a half handshake, half hug.
“I’ve got a minute for you,” Adam states. “Sorry, I had to jet during your speech. How did the rest of it go? Did you get eaten alive by those student questions?” he says with a huge grin.
“A few. I had to cut it short but answered most of them.”
“No worries. Thank you so much for doing this. Our volleyball coach put in a request after hearing about your nonprofit and all your good work. Guess she was sick of our usual lineup.”
There’s a light knock on the open door behind me.
“Hey, speak of the devil,” Adam says. “Seb, this is our head volleyball coach, Annie Moore. Annie, have you met Sebastian yet?”
I turn around, and there she is, the woman I met at the bar—twice.
Annie.It suits her.
She’s tall and fit, but still a few inches shorter than me. She’s wearing a navy polo and khakis with a clipboard in her hands.
She stops in her tracks with a deer-in-the headlights look on her face, clearly caught off guard seeing me in her boss’s office.
I stifle a laugh and help her out.
“I believe our friends are dating, but I don’t think we’ve officially met. Sebastian,” I say while holding out a hand for her to shake.
