I stopped dead on the path right outside the humanities block. I was already running late for this fuckin' introduction class due to a team meeting, and now the bitch was droning on in my ear about this fuckin' engagement and callin' me that bastard name... again. I could feel my tolerance for her attitude about to snap.

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I focused on the relaxing feeling of the burning summer sun pounding my back, calming me.

Didn't fuckin' work. Nothing ever does.

"Look, I'm goin' to practice. I'm not comin'."

I slammed my finger on the end button, stuffed the phone in my jeans pocket, and headed inside the building, trying to let the blast of air from the air-conditioner cool me the hell down from the usual friggin' anger boiling me from the inside out. My blood felt like molten magma pumping through my muscles-an unstoppable force. But I embraced it, welcomed it even-it was a constant reminder that I needed to get the fuck away from those bastard people.

I smashed the second set of doors open, hearing the wood splinter against the wall, and stormed down the empty halls, pressure building in my chest with each step at the thought of getting hitched to Shelly.

Fuckin' Shelly Blair.

Christ, I fucked her twice in high school and, stupidly, once freshman year, and she acts like we're soul mates, in love. Not even sure I have the capability to love anyone anymore. Had it beat outta me a long time ago.

My phone vibrated again. I didn't look; I knew it would be my daddy demanding I attend. Momma would have called in the big guns.

Fuckin' asshole.

I'd answer, and he'd tell me my refusal was, "Unacceptable, boy!" Then he'd threaten me, blackmail me, tell me how much he and momma hated me, regretted me.

Same ol' same ol'.

I turned the corner, fists clenched at the thought of having to sit next to Shel for the next half hour, trapped in a room, no way out of her long-clawed grip. I was too fuckin' mad. I just couldn't sit next to that bitch pawing at my arms like a fuckin' toy dog, rubbing my leg, hoping to make me hard enough to give in and fuck her after class.

Never. Happenin'. Again. My cock went limp just looking at her. She thinks she looks hot, all that big hair, plastic tits, and fake red lips. But all I see is a fuckin' praying mantis.

I set off, head down, toward the classroom, and I heard it. Shelly's fuckin' laugh. The laugh that sounded like a thousand cats being strangled... Slowly, painfully, one by one.

I wasn't proud of what I did next.

Bullet Prince, quarterback for the Crimson Tide, dived to the right and hid behind a staircase, blocking himself from Shelly's attention.

I flattened my back against the cold white wall as a quick movement caught my eye. Some chick holding a mass of papers came flying around the corner, muttering to herself, checking her watch, all brown curls piled on her head, thick black glasses, and the brightest fuckin' shoes I'd ever seen.

Neon orange. Christ.

I couldn't help but crack a smile at her whole package. I almost felt along my lips just to check it was actually there.

When was the last time I fuckin' smiled? That is, when was the last time I was smiling because of something other than looking at some asshole I'd knocked the fuck out on the floor?

I was shaking my head in disbelief when I risked a peek around the corner, seeing Shelly clock her beady eyes onto the chick with an evil smile and turn to say something to her friends. I tensed, suddenly protective of the flustered brunette.

I couldn't help but stare at her. She looked so fuckin' tragic as she blew her crazy hair from her thick glasses, scurrying down the long hall, her plastic shoes squeaking against the tiled floor with each hurried step.

I was too preoccupied, hooked on the scene, and realized too late that Shel was up to something and watched as she shouldered into the girl as she passed, causing all her papers to fall to the floor.

Fury possessed me.

Shel'd always been a cruel bitch, but seeing her do that to the innocent gal just made me pissed beyond measure.

Shelly said something to the girl on the floor-I couldn't hear what-but the brunette never looked up, kept her head down, ignoring what I imagined to be a catty slight.

Why I ever dipped my stick in that is beyond me. I'm blaming it on too many fuckin' head knocks in football.

I stepped outta my hiding spot and headed to tell Shel to get the fuck on, but I was too late. She'd already gone into class.

As I approached, the brunette leaned forward to reach for the papers that had landed way out in front, and I almost groaned out loud, my cock springing to life.

Fuck me.

That ass.

That perfect, curvy ass.

I quickly tucked my boner into my waistband and tried to think of something to cool down. Jimmy-Don in a two-piece; Jimmy-Don in a thong. Actually... I cracked a derisive smile... Shelly sucking on my dick... Yeah, deflated like a damn defective balloon.

Running my hands through my hair, I stepped behind the chick, avoiding staring at her ass in those short dungarees and those long, tan legs that were unreal and temped me to reach out and wrap them around my waist.

Fuck, my cock hardened again.

I opened my mouth to see if she needed help just before she spat, "Fuckin' arseholes!" to herself and got to her feet, her glasses crashing to the floor in the process, the shitty frames landing right next to my feet.

Time stopped.

What the hell was that accent? English maybe? Whatever it was, it was the hottest thing I'd ever heard in my entire sorry life.

Before I could stop it, a loud laugh jumped outta my throat at the sweet, proper voice cussing. I watched as she paused, frozen on hearing me behind her.

Her head bowed, back bunched, and the sigh she let out said it all.

Pure defeat.

I reached down and scooped up her glasses, then holding her arm, spun her to face me.

Fuck me.

Large brown eyes, full juicy pink lips, lightly tan skin, and a soft blush to her cheeks-she was fuckin' incredible.

I needed to say something, anything, not look like some creepy fuckin' weirdo, scenting that vanilla smell of her skin.

Who is this chick?

"Can you see now?" I muttered, my voice, even to me, sounding rough. Good one, Rome. Growl at her.

Her eyes squinted and she looked up, her lips parted, and her eyes behind the huge frames studied every part of my face.

And here it comes, the moment she sees it's me, fuckin' Rome "Bullet" Prince. It'd piss me off and then I'd come off like an asshole.

Standard day.

She drank me in, the usual... and then... nothing.

Snatching the papers from my hands, she tried to take off. No stuttered recognition, no flirting, just... rushing to get the hell away from me.

What the- I wondered for a moment if she didn't know who I was. But... nah, we were in Bama. She was at UA. Every fucker knew my face, whether I liked it or not.

Without realizing it, I took hold of her wrist. "Y'okay?"

She didn't look up. "I'm fine."

Negative.

Still no eye contact. Still no recognition.

"You sure?" I pushed again-absolutely no idea why.

I saw it in her shoulders-she was done with the day. And her long, black lashes fluttered on her cheeks before her caramel eyes fixed on mine. The wind knocked right outta my chest and I couldn't seem to move.

"You ever have one of those days where everything turns into a bloody nightmare?"

English. Fuck, it was hot.

That accent and her open expression made me chuff, "Havin' one myself, actually."

Her tight eyes softened and she sighed. "Then that makes two of us." Her lips crooked into a smile and she laughed.

My heart did something it never had before.

It felt.

It felt something... indescribable.

"Thank you for stopping to help me. It was very nice of you."

That sentiment snapped me back to reality. Nice? Don't think so.

Her eyes measured me, waiting patiently for a response.

"Nice. Not normally what people say when they're talkin' 'bout me."

I watched as her lips parted slightly, sucking in a shocked breath. I had to get the hell outta here, away from her, and stop acting like some damn dumbstruck pussy.

I walked off without looking back, realizing that was the longest damn conversation I'd had with anyone in a long time... and it didn't involve anything about being the fuckin' oil prince of Bama or the next big football star.

There was something different about her, something... intriguing. Like she didn't give a shit what anyone thought of her, wasn't caught up in the football hype.

Almost as if I watched from a detached body, my boots abruptly ground to a halt and I looked over my shoulder. She was still standing on the same spot, then swerved and met my eyes. "I'm Rome," I offered, almost involuntarily, the words spilling out of my mouth.

Her long lashes fluttered down, touching the lenses of her glasses, and when they lifted, a shy smile transformed her face. "Molly."

I nodded and licked my lips, roving her whole package, then made my way back to the classroom.

Molly.

Little English Molly.

Fuck. There went my usually black heart, daring to feel something again.

Sweet Home Playlist.

To listen to the playlist follow the link: http://tilliecole.com/sweet-home/.

See You Again - Carrie Underwood I Don't Want This Night To End - Luke Bryan.

Joshua Radin - Tomorrow is Gonna Be Better Bullet In The Gun - Planet Perfecto.

Broken - Jake Bugg.

Bruce's Philosophy Song - Monty Python.

Beat This Heart - Tim Chaisson.

Feels Like Home - Chantel Kreviazuk Small Bump - Ed Sheeran.

Angel - Sarah McLachlan How Country Feels - Randy Houser Sweet Home Alabama - Lynyrd Skynyrd.

Dead In The Water - Ellie Goulding Home - Edward Sharpe & The Magnetic Zeros You've Got The Love - Florence & The Machine.

Season of Love - Shiny Toy Guns.

Acknowledgements.

Once again I have lots of people to thank.

Mam and Dad, thanks for the unwavering support through this mad adventure, I wouldn't have been able to do it without you guys. Dad, thank you for introducing me to American Football. Even though we lived in a small Northern town in England, you introduced me to the wonder of the gridiron and years later, that has come in incredibly handy! Mam, you know I appreciate all the reads you do of each manuscript. Well, keep that up, there's much more to come!