I don’t bother to flip it over, already knowing it will have her name, number, and probably a little heart for good measure written on it.
I offer it back to her with a tight-lipped smile. “I appreciate the offer,” I say, voice all ice and zero warmth, “but I won’t be needing this. I’m in a committed relationship with my long-term girlfriend.”
Honey hates me using her as an excuse like this, but it's the truth, and I'm tired of all these girls fawning all over me because they think I'm going to be their first wealthy husband.
I'm not that stupid.
I went to South Point Prep, after all. That scholarship was worth something.
She shrugs, flicking my hand away, leaving the note in mine. “I have a feeling we’ll be talking soon, whether you want to or not.” Her eyes flick to the card. “Keep it in case you need it.”
Gritting my teeth, I crumple the paper in my hand because it’s the only way to stop myself from throwing it in her face.
Did she really think Honey was replaceable?
“See you around,” I bite out before brushing past her and shoving the door open because I’m done with this conversation.
The second it clicks shut behind her, I toss the card into the trash. Hard. This is why I’m so hell-bent on marrying Honey. It’s not because I want to own her or control her. I don’t care if all she wants to do for the rest of her life is breed pygmy goats. I want a ring on her finger so every girl like that knowsI’mtaken, and they’ll back the fuck off.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
My jaw locks, and the frustration building in my bones because if it's that girl again, I won't be able to hide my asshole side now. I signed her ball and made it very clear I wasn’t interested. Yanking the door open, I’m ready to show her my not-so-nice side.
But it’s not her.
It’sher.
“Honey?”
Just like that, my anger dissipates. She's here. I'm already pulling her into my arms, my lips finding hers like it's second nature. When she doesn't return it, I freeze.
With my hands on her shoulders, I pull back and take her in. She's pale. Her eyes are darker than usual. Something's wrong.
“Honey, what is it?”
She doesn't answer right away. She just stares at me, but I see the fear in her eyes.
“Did those girls do something again?”
My fingers clench slightly as my body goes into high alert, ready to take down an entire dorm if I have to.
Then, she finally says, “It's my father. He came to visit me.”
Everything inside me stills as I try to process this.
“He did? When?”
“Um, just now. He found me on campus.”
So those calls weren’t just threats. He actually showed up. Uninvited. On her turf.
“He flew here?”
“Yeah,” she says with a bitter laugh, brushing past me before she drops onto the couch. I follow her, close, but I don’t touch her. I need to let her lead.
“And he offered me a job.”
A job?