Settling the Score - pt. 1 (Patreon)

Honestly, I'm having so much fun writing Abbie/Rose's story, and I'm even more thrilled by it because we are officially done with the college years and can move more solidly into the future!

Without further adieu, let's jump into Abbie & Rose: College Era...

-------------Settling the Score--------------

Abbie wasn’t typically prone to hyperbole.

But right now, in this very second, she felt like everything was on the line. She was completely dialed in, locked on. Her focus was absolute.

She was aware of every single breath she took, aware of exactly how far she was from either side of the goal.

She was less aware of the crowd, of the bright stadium lighting. That didn’t matter right now.

What mattered was the seconds ticking down on the clock. What mattered was where the soccer ball was on the field. What mattered was the fact that this was her senior year, her final performance in the Women’s College Cup.

Her team had made it to the finals for the last three years. She’d started as goalkeeper for the last two – and had subbed in for the second half of the game in her sophomore year, having made a save that pushed her right into being a starter in that game.

Her team was ahead – 3-2 – after a brutal game. Neither team had made it to this point by being mediocre, after all.

Her right shoulder was sore from how she’d fallen heavily on it for the last diving save she’d made, and she knew she’d probably feel it a lot more intensely tomorrow. But right now, the dull throb barely registered.

Because that save she’d made had been good, had kept Viddell from tying them up and forcing them into a shootout.

And it was looking like she was going to have to do it again.

“Oh, and that’s the quick footwork we know Rose Elliston for. With ten seconds left, she has a clear path right down the field,” the announcer’s words sunk in even as Abbie watched the action play out.

Her heart quickened and then slowed – the way it always did when the game came to this. When it was her and one other player, and she had to anticipate where they were going to shoot with only milliseconds.

Rose did have a clear path down the right side of the field, now, and she was moving fast.

She’d always been fast. And she’d always – as the announcer had affirmed – had fancy footwork.

Rose glanced up at her in the same second that Abbie darted her gaze to Rose’s face. And, for the briefest of moments, Abbie felt a flashback to high school. To one of their scrimmages, in which Rose always seemed to fucking love captaining the team going against Abbie’s.

Time slowed.

She slid into that place in her mind, the one that didn’t think and just reacted.

It may have been years since they’d played against one another – Viddell and Duke weren’t in the same conference, and this was the first year Viddell had made it to the championship game, after having come in second in the semifinals last year – but Abbie knew.

If there was one thing she knew about Rose Elliston, it was her game play. It might be the only thing she really knew about her.

She knew that Rose loved to make a top corner shot.

But she also knew that Rose knew Abbie knew that.

Rose kicked the ball, sending it sailing – hurtling, really – through the air, but low. Right at the same moment that Abbie dove for it, toward the lower left side of the goal.

Even before she made contact with the ball, she felt the victory sliding through her; she’d made the right call. She’d known Rose wouldn’t go for the typical shot, and she’d been fucking right!

She managed to knock the ball away with a solid shove, even as she grunted and landed heavily on her side. Sore shoulder, sore ribs. It was all the same, and it didn’t fucking matter.

For a moment, Abbie stayed on the ground, breathing heavily.

She’d done it. They’d done it.

They’d closed out the season as champions.

Amazed, thrilled, elated, Abbie hopped up from the ground just as she was surrounded by a herd of her teammates.

The following minutes were a blur. A celebratory, euphoric blur. This had been all Abbie had been able to let herself think about since they’d won semifinals a couple of weeks ago. She’d pushed herself through all of her end of semester papers and exams in the last week, determined – as she always was – to maintain her spot on the Dean’s List throughout her senior year.

Not only because it made her moms proud of her, but because – somewhere along the way during her time in college – it had become something she’d become proud of, too.

She laughed, she shouted, she jumped around, she got pulled into so many embraces she couldn’t even recall them. Any and all physical aches she might have endured tonight were long gone.

The only realized the blur that passed by had only been a few minutes when she registered that it was time to shake hands with the other team.

She gamely tamed the smile on her face – the last thing she wanted anyone to think about her was that she was unsportsmanlike. Abbie liked to think she’d cultivated a reputation of being very polite to her opposing teams. Downright friendly, even.

Hell, some of her teammates rolled their eyes at her with how friendly she could be toward the other teams over the years.

But, what could she say? Her mom had raised her very well.

So, it wasn’t that difficult to slip into the right mindset. To change her smile as she took up her mantle at the end of her team’s line. To change from a celebratory/victorious smile, to shift into something nicer. After all, Viddell’s team had killed it. They’d crushed their season, much like Abbie’s team had. They were very deserving of her respect.

She made sure to say so, in quick comments as she moved through their team members, cursorily shaking hands. That feeling of everything being a blur came back quickly, as she continuously ran her gaze over everyone’s face as they passed.

The women didn’t all look the same – different skin colors and heights and varying degrees of friendliness on their faces – but they blurred together just the same in a haze of Viddell’s forest green and silver team colors.

Until everything crystallized as she shook her final hand.

And her eyes met and held a pair of wide, dark irises, with that subtle beauty mark right there on her sharp cheek bone under her eye.

Somehow, in the sea of celebration, Abbie had forgotten that this moment would bring her to Rose.

Rose’s hand flexed around hers, but didn’t drop away like everyone else’s did. They were both the last in their lines for their respective teams, so Abbie supposed they didn’t need to let go immediately and move onto the next.

Somehow, even though it had been nearly four years since they’d really seen each other, this brought her right back. Even the simple way to how Rose gripped her hand, as if trying to assert control over this moment. Abbie flexed her hand around Rose’s right back, readjusting her grip.

It was that easy for this feeling to come right back; no way was she going to be the first one that let go and admitted that easy defeat.

“Good game, Lemon,” Rose murmured, and even though her tone was so quiet, Abbie could still hear it over both of their teams and the crowd around them.

“Thanks.” She felt her lips tick into a smile, knowing that there was a proud edge to it that she’d pushed away while shaking everyone else’s hand. “You, too.”

She was being genuine – Rose had played an amazing game, which was undeniable.

Still, Rose’s eyes narrowed and her grip on Abbie’s hand tightened, as she pursed her lips. “I know you’re aware that I just lost; you don’t need to give me a platitude.”

Abbie rolled her eyes, hard. “Why do you assume I’m giving you some empty platitude? We’re at a D1 championship game, where you assisted one shot and actually scored the other. Hence, you played a good game.”

Unable to help herself, she started laughing. It bubbled up from the very core of her being, full of warmth and entertainment and something decidedly… fond.

Rose frowned at her.

Which only intensified this feeling.

She gently squeezed Rose’s hand in hers before Rose moved to pull it away, as Abbie knew – yep, there it was – Rose would try to do.

“I’m not laughing at you,” she promised, sincerely.

Rose’s frown – predictably – deepened, etching into her face like on a marble statue. “Mhmm,” her hum was the epitome of disbelieving.

Abbie did her damndest to sober her laughter as she explained, “It’s just – you’re the same. It’s been four years–”

“Three and a half,” Rose cut in, quietly and sharply.

Abbie managed to quell her laughter, but not her smile. Which only widened at Rose’s correction. “Yeah, exactly.”

Though she loosened her grip on Rose’s hand – soft and warm in her own – Rose didn’t pull it away. Instead, she stared intently at Abbie. Searching, almost.

Abbie stared back, her smile fading slightly.

Rose Elliston had always been intense. Ever since that first meeting they’d had almost six years ago, now. That too, clearly, remained unchanged.

But the intensity in her stare had Abbie’s cheeks heating. Right here, in the middle of the soccer field after she’d just won her final college championship game, she was thrown right into a memory that she hadn’t thought about for a long time, now.

To their first kiss. Well, her first kiss, as it definitely hadn’t been Rose’s. And she definitely shouldn’t think of it as their first kiss, because they’d never shared another one.

That kiss had served as her official goodbye to Rose Elliston. A big part of her hadn’t ever been sure if they’d ever see one another again, especially as they always seemed to miss one another at any parties or get-togethers their old teammates hosted on school breaks. As the last three and a half years had drifted by and they’d miraculously managed to be ships in the night every time, Abbie had become certain that she’d never lay eyes on Rose outside of social media.

And Rose wasn’t that active on social media to begin with.

The longer they stayed staring at one another in silence, somehow the less awkward Abbie felt. That definitely made no sense.

Neither did the fact that she felt far less aware of the literal thousands of people surrounding them as the seconds ticked by.

Unthinkingly, she trailed her eyes down…

Yes, Rose’s face had stayed largely the same, which made sense; it hadn’t been that long.

Swallowing thickly, Abbie traced her eyes lower.

Obviously, she’d seen Rose during the game, but during the game didn’t count. Because when it came to the game, that was all Abbie thought about. She’d registered Rose as a player, as a fucking great striker, as a huge threat.

Right in this moment, she was more aware. Aware of the fact that even though Rose’s uniform wasn’t form-fitting, that her body certainly seemed notably different than the last time Abbie had seen her. Rose had always been fuller-bodied than Abbie, but even through her uniform, she could see that fact remained true. Even more true than it had been before, based on the curve of her hips that was definitive even now.

“I guess some things aren’t the same,” Rose murmured in a tone Abbie had never heard from her before.

It didn’t matter that it had been years; Abbie knew she’d never heard that tone from Rose.

Cheeks heating from having obviously been caught checking Rose out – and not in the subconscious, uncertain ways she’d clearly done so in high school – she darted her eyes back up to meet Rose’s.

There was a look there, something else Abbie didn’t quite recognize.

But it made her heart beat a little faster in her chest, and she parted her lips on a sharp inhale, and –

“Abbacado! You were amazing!” She heard, just before she felt herself engulfed in a tight hug.

The embrace dislodged the way she and Rose had been… well, holding hands. She thought it stopped counting as “shaking hands” when the handshake lasted for well over two minutes.

Even though the broken touch made her a little upset, she supposed it was a good thing. Because what a weird thing that had started to turn into, in the middle of the field.

Besides, she couldn’t be upset right now, at the way her mom held her so tightly from one side, and Caroline from the other, both bouncing from excitement. She laughed, breathlessly, shaking the loose strands that had escaped from her ponytail back from her face.

“You were so incredible, honey,” her mom said quietly, the warm pride from her tone echoing through Abbie.

And with it, her grin returned as she reached up and hugged them both around the back with a single arm around their waists.

She let herself get wrapped up in their… admittedly sometimes overwhelming but in the best of ways adoration for a few moments, before she loosened her returning hug, opening her eyes to see that Rose was still standing in front of her.

Truthfully, Abbie wouldn’t have been shocked if Rose had pulled a disappearing act amidst this show of family love – much like she’d pulled a disappearing act after their kiss. Also something Abbie hadn’t forgotten about!

But, nope. She stood in front of them, watching Abbie be in the middle of a mom-sandwich, with the ultimate Rose expression – a stormy look in her eyes, but a small smile that seemed genuine on her lips.

Clearing her throat to get her moms’ attentions, she nodded toward Rose. “Uh – so, you both remember Rose? From high school?”

Both Caroline and her mom disengaged from their embrace. At least, enough to turn and focus their attention on Rose, who immediately snapped her posture up straight. Typical.

Caroline maintained her arm slung around Abbie’s waist, while her mom had her arm over her shoulder and Abbie – well, maybe she should feel a little self-conscious about it, but she didn’t. Maybe even back in high school she might have, a little. But living away from her parents for college, while she’d undeniably enjoyed her time here, had very much reminded her about how much she missed them.

“Elliston! I knew that was you,” Caroline commented first, unsurprisingly. “You played an amazing game. Great goal.”

Abbie couldn’t help but tilt her head at Rose – aha. Caroline, unknowingly, had echoed nearly the exact same words Abbie had given Rose moments ago. So, Rose knew Abbie hadn’t just been giving her some empty congratulatory expression; she could see where Abbie got it from.

Rose’s lips ticked into a small smile. Something sweet and polite and a little more… distant than she felt Rose had been capable of in high school – which was saying something, because back then, she’d felt like Rose had been capable of a great deal of emotional distance.

“Thank you. It was a great game,” Rose conceded. She paused before tilting her head back at Abbie, “And Abbie did do incredibly well.”

Abbie’s chin dropped in surprise at the sincerity and warmth in Rose’s tone at the compliment. And at the fact that she’d called her by her name!

Which Rose clearly noticed, as she frowned at Abbie. “What? I already told you that.”

Abbie shook her head. “Um, no. You said good game,” she omitted the Lemon part in front of her parents. “That’s a very different thing than saying you were incredible.”

In fact, at the sentiment, Abbie’s stomach clenched with pleasure. Rose had thought she’d played an incredible game… that felt – nice.

“You blocked my shot! Obviously, I think you played an incredible game,” Rose countered, exasperatedly.

Still glowing, Abbie opened her mouth to respond, only for her mom to beat her to it.

“Sportsmanship,” her mom murmured in that quietly commanding tone, as if reminding Abbie the way she’d done when Abbie had started playing in the kiddie league when she’d been ten. “If Rose here already told you that you played a good game, I think that’s a very fair point, honey.”

Abbie bit down on the inside of her cheek, especially at the way Rose’s full lips curled into a satisfied smile again. Honestly, more like a fucking smirk at having been backed up by Abbie’s mother.

She narrowed her eyes at Rose, even as she grit her teeth. “Mhmm,” she hummed, because – well, she wasn’t going to argue with her mom. Who – quite simply – didn’t know Rose the way Abbie did.

When they locked eyes, that satisfaction remained in Rose’s dark gaze and it clawed into Abbie. Because she just – she could swear that it wasn’t just over the fact that Abbie’s mom had sided with her about the after-game semantics.

But what did that even mean? And how dare Rose give her any sort of look while Abbie was being embraced by her moms?

“So, Rose,” Caroline cut in, and Abbie couldn’t have been more grateful for her. “Is your family here?” She gestured around them, where – Abbie took in now for the first time – family and friends had started pouring onto the pitch in celebration.

Abbie couldn’t see anyone wearing Rose’s uniform anywhere else left on the field, either.

The smile Rose had been aiming at Abbie dissipated immediately as she cleared her throat and turned her attention to Caroline. “No, they weren’t able to make it.”

Again, that didn’t surprise Abbie. She couldn’t remember a single game that Rose’s parents had attended in high school, even though her dad was the freaking headmaster. It didn’t shock her that they wouldn’t have traveled to North Carolina.

But… it did make her a little sad for Rose.

She couldn’t help but wonder about Nathan, who had gone to their games in high school. And who, as far as Abbie had seen on socials, Rose had continued a relationship with throughout college.

Her mom beat her to the question. “Friends? A partner? Anyone you’re planning on celebrating with?”

Her mom’s tone wasn’t gossipy or prying – it was a gentle probing, something full of understanding, and Abbie appreciated it.

Rose rolled her lips, her cheeks flushing as she answered, “No, not really.” Another grin slid onto her face, but Abbie could see clear as day that it was forced. “Besides, I don’t have much to celebrate right now.”

Abbie, Caroline, and her mom all immediately shook their heads in vehement, synchronized disagreement.

“Hey, you made it to the fucking Division One finals – win or lose, that’s something to celebrate,” Caroline spoke first, her voice leaving no room for disagreement.

Abbie watched as some of the falsity in Rose’s smile gave way to something surprised and genuine. And Abbie nodded, wanting – with a shocking intensity – to double-down on that. “Seriously, though.”

“We were planning on taking Abbie out to dinner to celebrate tonight, win or lose,” her mom finished with, tilting her head at Rose. “Would you like to join us?”

Surprise filtered over Rose’s face, her eyes widening. “Oh, that’s – nice. But, no. It’s fine. I should… I should probably go and find my team, honestly.” She gestured vaguely over her shoulder.

“Well, the invitation’s open,” her mom gently insisted.

“Do you want to go right out with your team, kiddo?” Caroline asked, turning her attention to Abbie, lifting an eyebrow. “Promise I’ll only take the sliiightest bit of offense,” she teased, squeezing Abbie’s waist with it.

“No, it’s fine. Trust me, they’re going to be partying literally all night; I’m not missing anything by going out to dinner with you.” Abbie scoffed out a laugh, “We’ve been getting the house ready for days at Sara’s insistence. Making banners for either a win or a loss to hang up.”

Abbie was long past experiencing FOMO when the team started partying before her or stayed out later than she did, as both were regular occurrences. She got plenty of quality time with her team, considering not only their practices and games, but that half of the team – including her – lived together.

Even though her parents had flown down to North Carolina two days ago and Abbie had seen them for the last couple of days – and she was going home with them for winter break – she wanted to soak this in. Especially because she didn’t think she was going to get much time with them at the end of the school year.

Biting her lip, she returned her attention to Rose, arching her a look. “Sure you don’t want to join us?”

And… Abbie didn’t know what it was. She didn’t have a clue, because she wouldn’t have anticipated this moment in a million years. Though she’d known, logically, that she’d be playing against Rose, she hadn’t had any clue what it would be like to truly see and talk to her again.

She still wasn’t sure she knew.

All she knew was that four years ago, she’d have tried to bite off her own tongue before giving Rose the opportunity to join her family for dinner. And right now, she kind of hoped Rose changed her mind.

Four years – fine, three and a half – was a long time. Long enough that Abbie was… curious.

Rose didn’t answer immediately at Abbie’s insistence. She lifted her eyebrows in that thoughtful look, studying Abbie’s face. Before she finally murmured, “Thank you.” And really, she sounded sincere?! Where was the haughty, snooty Rose? “But, I shouldn’t. I really do need to regroup with my team.”

Abbie was utterly shocked at the disappointment that edged through her, but it was undeniable. “Yeah, I get it.” And, annoyingly, she did. Also – annoyingly – she didn’t know why she’d thought Rose would want to have dinner with her and her parents? She’d started this interaction by stating that Rose was the same old Rose, after all.

Shaking herself out of it, she quirked her lips into a grin. “It was nice to see you, Rose.”

Rose’s eyebrow arched up at her, her own lips tilting into a slow smile, herself. Something that abruptly wiped Abbie’s right off her face, with the intent behind it. And she didn’t even know what that intent was, but she swore it was there. “You too, Lemon.”

“It was good to see you again, Elliston,” Caroline’s voice cut in, and her mom echoed a similar sentiment right after.

Somehow, alarmingly, Abbie had forgotten about her parents in the last few seconds. Her parents who literally both had an arm still draped over her.

Oh, boy.

Yeah, it was a great thing that Rose wasn’t coming to dinner, actually, Abbie decided in that moment as she tore her eyes away from Rose’s slowly retreating form.

“Did she just call you Lemon?” Her mom asked a second later.

***

Abbie had been right not to feel any concern regarding potentially missing celebrating the win with her team.

They’d celebrated a bit in their locker room, and had done a post-game conference as well, before a few photos. But as her team had packed up and headed back to campus – thrilled they’d played at a home stadium – she’d split off and met up with her parents.

That had been nearly two hours ago, and the party she returned home to was larger than fucking life.

It was the only way Abbie could think to describe it, as she’d been able to both hear and feel the bumping music from the next block. The lawn, porch, and first floor were crawling with people – people in various states of inebriation, who, upon giving her a good look, cheered at her or shouted kind, congratulatory words.

She smiled back at them, but didn’t pause as she worked her way through the house and into the kitchen, intent on grabbing one of Bea’s – one of their defenders – signature mixed drinks. While she was in the mood to celebrate, she was also still thinking about Rose.

Odd, because she hadn’t thought that much about Rose over the years. But she really felt like there’d been a different… thing, earlier. Something that kept niggling at the back of her mind.

She’d just grabbed one of the drinks that Bea fastidiously kept watch over throughout the night, when Bea all-but leapt toward Abbie.

Bright-eyed and giggly, she’d clearly had a few of her own concoctions already. Still, Abbie deeply appreciated Bea’s dogged determination to minding open containers at parties.

“Abbie-na!” Bea shouted, tossing her arms around Abbie’s neck in a tipsy embrace.

Abbie did her very best not to fumble the beverage she’d just picked up amidst all the jostling, but didn’t quite pull it off. Her hand holding the drink was tightly wedged between them, and no matter how good Abbie’s grip strength was, she couldn’t help but crush the solo cup in her hand as Bea squeezed her tightly, bouncing up and down in excitement.

She grimaced, feeling the cold liquid seep into her sweater.

Rolling with it, she sighed and wrapped her free hand – of course, the one that wasn’t holding a fucking full cup – around Bea’s back. “You know I never understand why you call me that when I have a full name.”

Despite the drink spill, she couldn’t help but be patently amused. Bea was always bubbly, even when she wasn’t drinking. There was a good chance she’d had hugged Abbie just as thoughtlessly hard while stone-cold sober.

And tonight… well, tonight they’d won the biggest and last game of their college career, so. Who was Abbie to hold it against her?

Bea giggled as she pulled back, shaking her head as she landed her hands on Abbie’s shoulders. “Abigail,” she frowned, shaking her head like a toddler that had just tasted broccoli for the first time. “It’s so dour. Not fitting for my little Abbie-na!”

She laughed again, reaching out to touch the tip of Abbie’s nose. Only, she missed by an inch and brushed her fingertip over Abbie’s cheek, instead.

“Your little Abbie-na is three inches taller than you,” she reminded Bea, amused.

“You sure are! And you’re a hero, and everyone knows it!” She shouted, using the hand still holding Abbie’s shoulder to give her a little shake.

Abbie scoffed, shaking her head softly as she tossed the ruined cup into one of the large trash bins someone had procured from somewhere else on campus – Abbie didn’t even want to know where from – for the party. “Well, this hero needs to go to her room and change her shirt. I’ll be back.”

“Oh!” Bea gasped, jerking upright at Abbie’s words. “Ohhh, that’s right! Your room!”

“What about it?” She asked, suspiciously. Dread was already swirling through her.

They all had a very strict rule about keeping the party downstairs, not allowing random party guests up to the second or third floors, where their bedrooms were. Abbie, herself, had gone to the store and purchased the four-foot-tall baby gates that they kept at every stairway entrance during nights like tonight.

They even had a schedule they all followed, where they routinely went up and checked the bedrooms to make sure no one was intruding on a bedroom they didn’t belong in.

Ugh, god, why was her room the first one at the top of the stairs?! Granted, it was on the third floor, but Abbie had – disturbingly – found that meant people thought they were going to get some more privacy.

But Bea’s expression didn’t mirror her own disgust. Rather, she wiggled her eyebrows exaggeratedly, humming under her breath before she informed Abbie. “I’m not the only one that thinks you’re a hero…”

Eyebrows furrowing in confusion, Abbie asked, “What does that even mean?”

“It means that a little hottie came through her a little while ago and asked where you were. I told her you weren’t home yet, but she was very insistent she needed to talk to you. Soooo, I told her which room was yours. Thank god the spill happened, or I wouldn’t even have remembered she was up there!”

“Do you even know this person?” Abbie demanded, trying to keep her groan out of her voice. Bea really did believe the best in people far too often, and that was coming from Abbie, who always tried to give everyone the benefit of the doubt!

Bea frowned, shaking her head. “Ummm. No. I don’t think so.”

“And you just let her go up to my room?” Again, Abbie was trying to be patient, but… come on!

Granted, there was a great chance Bea wouldn’t remember this tomorrow, anyway.

Bea’s frown deepened as she pulled back from Abbie, looking her in the eye. “Abbie-na, believe me. You’re going to be thanking me. She was really hot. And you haven’t hooked up with someone in forever.”

Drawing in a long, deep breath through her nose, Abbie rubbed at her temples. “Yeah, okay. I gotta go upstairs, now.” She reached up and used her hands to spin Bea back around and direct her toward the drink table. “Back to your post.”

Without pausing another moment, Abbie hurried toward the back staircase, quickly unlatching the gate and shutting it behind her before she bound up the stairs.

And – ugh, fine, she did her due diligence and made sure to do a check through the rooms on the second floor, first. If anyone who actually resided in the house was occupying their room, they used the age-old code of a scrunchy on the doorknob. They’d all gone out and purchased them together, each taking a different color to signify the code.

No scrunchies on the doors – yet – and all the rooms were empty, and Abbie took off light a shot up the stairs to her own bedroom.

Where – “Seriously?” She muttered, frowning in confusion and pre-emptive disdain at the fact that her bright pink scrunchy was around her doorknob!

Without hesitation, Abbie threw the door open, unsure of what she’d find, but ready to put an end to whatever it was.

Only to come to a complete and total halt.

“Rose?” She didn’t know why the name escaped her like it was a question.

Because she was positive about who was standing in front of her, without a single doubt.

Her bafflement only grew, though, as she blinked widely and took Rose completely in. Because maybe the only thing that made less sense than Rose being here, in her room, was how Rose was dressed.

She was perched on the corner of Abbie’s desk, with her legs crossed. Which meant that the dark red skirt she wore rode up to just above mid-thigh, only stopping there – seemingly – because the material got too tight around Rose’s muscular thighs to slide any higher.

Other than that, her legs were completely bare.

Abbie’s throat ran dry before her eyes even landed on the sleek, black stiletto heels she had on.

“What the…” she trailed off, swallowing thickly as she ran her eyes back up… slowly… slowly…

Because how could she not? How could she not ogle Rose’s legs and her fucking thighs all over again?!

She wore a tightly fitted, thin long-sleeved black shirt tucked into the waist of her skirt, with a plunging neckline that left all of her cleavage on impressive display.

So, so confused – and so, so unbelievably attracted to Rose in this instant – Abbie, lost for words, finally landed her eyes back on Rose’s face.

Rose was staring at her with that imperious eyebrow perfect arched up, and even her face looked so – so different than anything in Abbie’s memory.

Abbie seldom ever saw Rose with makeup on, as they were typically playing soccer and even then, Rose hadn’t worn any in their day-to-day classes. She didn’t need it to look so classically beautiful, anyway.

But right now… yes, Rose was beautiful, but that wasn’t the word that echoed through Abbie’s mind with urgent demand.

Bea had been absolutely correct.

Hot. So, so fucking hot. With her lip gloss and her sharp eyeliner and… and…

“What are you doing here?” She rasped, and it was almost painful to speak with how strongly this demanding want had taken up residence inside of her.

Jesus. Maybe it had been too long since she’d hooked up with someone.

“I’ve obviously come to the celebration party,” Rose drawled, and there was no denying the raw satisfaction on her face.

If anything, Abbie was thankful for it. She might not understand it for a damn, but it did smack her in the face with a modicum of reality.

The reality that this was still Rose Elliston, and Abbie was still confused as fuck.

It allowed her to push past this base instinct to drool over Rose, at the very least.

“Uh… okay. But – you’re the one who said you didn’t have anything to celebrate?” She echoed Rose’s sentiment from earlier right back at her.

Rose shrugged, dropping her hand to the small bag next to her on the desk that she’d definitely brought with her, as it didn’t belong to Abbie. “I changed my mind.”

Still unable to make things click, Abbie stepped inside her room and shut the door behind her. She needed to try to be in control of all of her faculties right now, and the bass that pumped through the house was the last thing she wanted ringing in her ears right now.

She didn’t walk any closer to Rose just yet, though. “Fine,” she allowed, even though she didn’t trust for a second that Rose simply changed her mind. “But what are you doing in my room?”

Rose drew her shoulder up in a shrug again, pursing her lips as she looked around Abbie’s room. “Well, it seemed like the wisest place to come to find you at a party this size.”

Again, the explanation technically made sense, but none of Abbie’s alarm lessened in the least. How could it?!

“And… why did you want to find me?” She pushed, needing to grasp the whole picture.

“Why did you open the door like you were ready for a fight?” Rose countered, her tone undeniably full of amusement, rather than answer Abbie’s question.

She rolled her eyes, running her hand through her hair. “Because I didn’t think it was going to be you in my room,” she answered, easily.

Rose narrowed her eyes in thought, a spark in them, as she asked sharply, “And who did you think would be in here?”

Abbie shrugged, heavily, tossing her hands into the air for good measure. “How the hell should I know?! At worst, I imagined two – or more – people having taken up residence in here, making me need to burn my bedding.”

“And, at best?” Rose asked, still with that suspicious, demanding tone.

“I don’t know, Rose. I guess the lesser of two evils was a woman that wanted to make a move on me,” she muttered, feeling her cheeks – ridiculously – heat.

“Would that have been the first time that’s happened?” Rose pressed, a softer, more curious edge to her voice, now.

Cheeks burning hotter, Abbie narrowed her eyes at Rose. “No.”

And she didn’t know if that was something she was proud of or embarrassed of. But – especially after her star on the team had risen – it was something that had occurred more than once.

She definitely didn’t know what to make of the way Rose nodded. “Have you ever taken them up on the offer?” She asked, and her voice was so low and…

Abbie wrinkled her nose, shaking her head. “No, obviously not.”

Rose laughed, the sound of it low and throaty. “Yes, it appears some things do stay the same, then.”

“Why would I want to sleep with some random woman that shows up in my room?!” Abbie shot back, disdainfully. “And, most of the times it happened, I was in a relationship.”

Almost immediately, as if a switch had been flicked, Rose’s clear enjoyment at whatever was going on dropped away. “With Daniele?”

Ah, and there was that tone with Daniele’s name. Yes, things did remain the same.

Abbie’s incredulous amusement at that was finally enough to propel her forward into her own room, instead of hovering right at the door. “Yes, Rose, with Daniele. And I still to this day cannot understand why you hate her so much.”

“I don’t hate her,” Rose denied, but the haughty tone of voice said otherwise.

Abbie scoffed out a disbelieving laugh, as she turned to root through her dresser in search of a different sweater. The shock of seeing Rose – and seeing the way Rose looked – had distracted her from the reason she’d needed to come up here in the first place.

“Maybe if you say that enough, it can sound believable,” Abbie muttered, as she grabbed the dark blue cable-knit sweater she’d been searching for.

“And how is Daniele, then, Lemon?” Rose asked, with a clearly deliberate change in tone.

Abbie bit the inside of her cheek, sucking in a breath. But – hey, she didn’t feel like she got kicked in the chest, so that was something! Honestly, that was a huge improvement.

“We broke up,” Abbie informed her, turning back around to face Rose.

She blinked in surprise at the fact that Rose was now on her feet – when had she gotten up from the desk?! How had she been so quiet that Abbie hadn’t even heard her heels when they’d met the ground?

Abbie really didn’t know what to do about the fact that she was unreasonably upset about missing that moment, because she’d admittedly really wanted to see Rose uncross her thighs.

Which – felt so wrong. This was fucking Rose Elliston, not someone she was going to potentially hook up with.

Thankfully, Abbie was brought starkly back to reality when Rose hummed.

“Huh.” And the look on Rose’s face was completely, obviously unsympathetic. In fact, Abbie would say that Rose looked fucking gleeful at the news. “And who could have possibly seen that coming?”

“Oh, shut up.” Abbie rolled her eyes. “We dated for over three years!” She defended, even though she didn’t have to freaking defend herself about anything. “We only broke up this past summer.”

And it had been hell. Abbie hadn’t wanted to end things, even though – when push came to shove – she’d eventually had to concede to Daniele’s point that they’d definitely drifted over their junior year.

“Sincerest apologies, Lemon. What happened?” Rose asked, and if that was Rose being sincere, Abbie would literally eat the sweater in her hands.

“It – we just…” She shrugged, sighing heavily as she dropped her gaze down to where her fingers pulled at the thick material of the sweater. “The future, mostly, I guess. She’s going to med school and is staying in Boston next year.”

“And you’re in line to be one of the first draft picks in the spring, going to set up a home base in whatever state the team that scoops you up is based in,” Rose accurately surmised.

Surprised, Abbie’s eyes widened as she snapped her gaze to Rose’s. “How did you know?”

Now, Rose scoffed. “You’re an incredible player, Abbie. Like… actually one-in-a-million. Everyone knows where you’re going next.”

A shocked but undeniably pleased warmth shot through Abbie, heating her from the inside out. She didn’t know if she had ever heard Rose sound like that. So – sweet and actually sincere at the same time. She felt her lips pull into a smile as her cheeks warmed with the praise.

And then she darted her eyes up to Rose’s as the added layer of surprise swept through her and, “Did you just call me Abbie? And if you think I’m so talented, why did you insist on calling me Lemon for so long?”

Rose rolled her eyes. “Of course you’d harp on that right now.”

Baffled, Abbie could only shrug. “What else should I harp on?”

Even as she asked the question, though, she dropped her gaze to Rose’s mouth. Which was dumb. Very dumb. Because that lip gloss did something… something that made Rose’s full, pink lips look sinfully luscious.

She would know, because she had a great view of them. Because Rose had taken a few steps closer, now standing next to the foot of Abbie’s bed, while Abbie stood, frozen in place, next to her dresser near to her headboard.

“How are you faring with your Daniele-induced broken heart?” Rose asked, dodging Abbie’s question. Typical.

Her tone was teasing but also… not? Slightly mocking, but she also sounded like she really wanted to know, and Abbie licked her own lips – when had her mouth gotten so dry?

“It’s not broken anymore,” she answered truthfully, her voice a little lower than she’d expected.

“Good,” Rose murmured back, and the way she said that single word made Abbie shiver.

What was… what even…

Abbie felt her heart start beating a little faster, a little harder, in her chest even though there was no logical reason for it. No logical reason, of course, other than the fact that Rose had walked even closer to her.

Close enough that Abbie could smell her subtle, enticing fresh perfume, and it only served to make her blood rush even faster.

Rose was close enough to her, now, that she reached out and dropped her hand to land on the sweater in Abbie’s hands. Her pinky finger slid against Abbie’s thumb where she gripped the sweater – even tighter in her grasp, now – stroking lightly.

Abbie’s breath caught in her throat.

“What even is this, Lemon?” Rose asked, one side of her mouth lifting in a confused, teasing smirk. “Why are you taking out a thick, knitted sweater?”

Abbie opened her mouth to answer, only to find that she needed to clear her throat – twice – in order to do so. “It – I need to change. Bea – my friend that apparently told you to come up here – spilled a drink on me.”

Rose’s hand tightened slightly on Abbie’s sweater – enough for her to feel it, and she darted her eyes down at Rose’s long, elegant looking fingers as they clenched around the material. “Well, far be it for me to stop you.”

Her gaze shot back to Rose as her eyebrows shot up on her forehead. “What?” She breathed. “You want me to change right now? With you?”

Rose’s gaze met hers, steady and dark, as her cheeks flushed. Still, she didn’t waver. “I’ve seen you in the locker room hundreds of times.”

“That’s different,” Abbie spluttered out, shaking her head incredulously.

“Why?” Rose challenged, and there was that low fucking tone again.

The tone that silently spoke a thousand words and pinged on every one of Abbie’s nerve-endings, and still had Abbie scrambling to find answers.

“I… you know it is,” was all she could say in defense, weakly.

And for some reason, it only made that annoying smirk grow wider on Rose’s face. Rather, the smirk Abbie used to find incredibly annoying, and she searched for that annoyance right now, only to come up empty.

She was too busy wondering what the fuck was happening. Not only with Rose, but with her own body.

Just like earlier during the game, she felt… aware. Aware of everything. Every breath she took, every breath Rose took – because she could feel the warmth of it wash over her jaw. Aware of the fact that in those fucking heels, Rose was the same height as her. Aware of every centimeter Rose’s finger brushed against hers.

“What I meant in the first place, was why are you going to wear this sweater right now?”

“Because… it’s December?” She answered, feeling incredibly dumb right now.

Rose rolled her eyes. “But it’s a party. You’re celebrating. By your own admission, there are tons of girls here that would love to throw themselves at you.”

Okay, well, there was the Daniele-like tone again, almost like a snarl.

“That’s only happened a few times,” Abbie cut in, muttering.

Rose’s gaze was sharp on hers. “Well, don’t I stand corrected.”

“Why do you sound like that?” She demanded, finally managing to find even-enough footing again.

Rose stuck out her bottom lip in almost a pout, which was ridiculous and shouldn’t be attractive. Not at all.

And yet…

“Why are you going to put on a sweater during a party? Even though it’s December, no one else here is dressed like a very wholesome clothing ad.”

Moderately offended, Abbie glanced down at her outfit, frowning.

Rose slid her hand from where it had continued resting on Abbie’s sweater next to Abbie’s, to land softly, warmly on top of Abbie’s hand. Her fingers stroked down to Abbie’s wrist, before she squeezed, and stated, “It wasn’t an insult.”

She didn’t slide her hand away from Abbie’s, even after she squeezed again to double-down on her affirming statement. Instead, she continued the contact, and Abbie wondered if Rose could feel her pulse quickening.

Especially when Abbie slid her gaze back down Rose’s body, taking in the length of her skirt and her muscular legs and how fucking tight her top was – yes, Rose had obviously remained fit and in-shape but god her hips and chest had filled out even more and…

“Well, what about you?” She shot back, her voice raspy as she searched Rose’s gaze with her own. “I wouldn’t have even imagined you owned those clothes. Did you do a complete one-eighty in the last four years? Sorry, three and a half,” she smartly corrected, recalling Rose’s comment from earlier.

Rose held her gaze for a beat, and whatever humor Abbie had managed to summon to try to lighten this intensity sapped away immediately.

“No,” Rose answered, simply.

Abbie knew she wasn’t imagining things when Rose’s gaze slid down, over Abbie’s features… and then focused on her lips. Especially because, as she licked her lips in automatic response, Rose’s own mouth opened slightly, her breathing heavy.

An answering want echoed through Abbie’s body, demanding and needy and alarmingly strong. A hot, thrumming, pulsing feeling that started a steady beat through her, and she couldn’t help but whisper, “What are you doing here, Rose?”

Because Abbie couldn’t make sense of it, but she absolutely couldn’t believe that Rose was here because she desperately wanted to needle Abbie, or because Rose was a good-time gal that just wanted to join the celebratory party.

“I…” Rose’s tongue peeked out, moistening her own lips – fuck – as she drew her eyes back up to meet Abbie’s. “Most recently, what I’ve been doing is finding myself beyond irritated that there have been other women doing what I’m doing.”

Narrowing her eyes on confusion, Abbie tried to make sense of that statement but couldn’t, and, “What?”

“You were right, Lemon,” Rose murmured, swallowing visibly heavily, and Abbie’s eyes caught and held on the long line of Rose’s throat.

God, her skin looked so smooth.

“I don’t know if you’ve ever said that to me, before,” Abbie whispered, confounded by the very statement as soon as she was able to register what Rose had said. She tore her gaze away from staring at Rose’s neck – wondering if the soft skin there was sensitive? Abbie’s was – to stare back at Rose. “I still don’t know what you’re talking about, though.”

Rose set her jaw. “I suppose you were right; some things don’t change.”

Before Abbie could push for more, though, Rose sighed that put-upon sigh. There, that sounded familiar.

“You were right when you assumed there was a woman waiting for you in your room, wanting to make a move. Even if you’re too thick-skulled to see what’s right in front of you,” Rose explained, her tone exasperated and raspy and –

Abbie almost reeled back in surprise. She almost let out a baffled, confused shout of what are you even talking about?! She almost did a lot of things, but all she really did was take in a sharp, surprise inhale.

It was all she had time to do, as Rose leaned in and slotted her lips against Abbie’s.

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