All Chapters of Touchdown For The Devil : Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

Rainwater dripped from the ends of Ariana Vale's hair as she stood frozen beside the football field. Around her, chaos exploded. Players shouted, coaches ran across the soaked grass, and medical staff rushed toward Dante Cole's unmoving body while the crowd buzzed nervously in the stands above. But Ariana couldn't move, because his eyes were still on her. Even lying flat on the field with blood near his eyebrow, he still looked dangerous. That was the terrifying thing about him. He didn't look like someone who was in pain, instead he looked angry. "Move back! Move back!" A medic brushed past Ariana roughly, snapping her out of whatever trance she'd fallen into. She swallowed hard and lifted her camera automatically, fingers trembling slightly as she adjusted the lens. The flash captured Dante being lifted onto the stretcher with a streak of mud across his jaw, rain clinging to his dark lashes, his large hand curling slowly into a fist. Then his head tilted slightly in her di

The hallway had gone completely silent, not normal silent, but Westbridge kind of silent. The kind that happened right before fights, before scandals, before Dante Cole ruined somebody publicly. Ariana hated that silence, mostly because she was usually standing in the middle of it. Dante kept walking toward her slowly, his hands shoved into the pockets of his black hoodie while students practically split apart to make room for him. Nobody touched Dante accidentally. Nobody even breathed too loudly near him. He looked even worse this morning, the bruise beneath his eye had darkened overnight, his jaw looked tense and unstable. Ariana refused to step back, even when fear crept unpleasantly into her stomach. Beside her, Zoe whispered, "If I die today, clear my search history." Ariana snorted. Dante stopped directly in front of her, too close as always. The familiar scent of rain, mint, and expensive cologne wrapped around her instantly. His eyes dropped briefly toward the coffee in

For three full seconds, Ariana couldn't breathe. The courtyard blurred around her as students whispered, someone laughed nervously near the fountain, and a phone camera tilted higher. But all Ariana could see was Dante standing there silently, not denying it. Her chest tightened painfully, not because she cared what people thought, but because she had trusted him for one stupid moment. That kiss at the party last semester replayed viciously in her head. The way he held her face, the way his voice had gone rough when he whispered her name, the way she'd gone home shaking afterward because part of her had actually believed it meant something. Humiliation burned hot beneath her skin. "You made a bet on me?" Her voice came out quieter than expected, which somehow made it worse. Dante took one step toward her. "Ariana—" "No." She stepped back immediately, and for the first time since she'd known him, Dante actually hesitated. The crowd sensed it instantly. Westbridge loved publi

Ariana spent the next two days avoiding Dante, which seemed impossible considering he practically owned half the campus. But somehow she managed, she skipped the football field entirely, took side hallways between classes, and avoided the student center. It almost worked. Until Friday night. The football fundraiser gala was being held at the Hawthorne Hotel downtown, and unfortunately for Ariana, she was required to photograph the event for the university paper, which meant one thing. Like it or not, she'll be seeing Dante, everywhere. "You look hot," Zoe announced from Ariana's dorm doorway. Ariana adjusted the strap of her camera bag irritably. "I look employed." "No, seriously." Zoe pointed dramatically. "Like revenge hot." Ariana glanced down at herself. The black satin dress hugged her figure without trying too hard, elegant, simple, and dangerous in a quiet way. If she had to survive tonight, she at least wanted armor. "You think Dante's gonna survive this?" Zoe gr

Ariana shouldn't have followed him. She knew that. Common sense practically screamed at her to stay on the balcony, finish her job, and stop letting Dante Cole consume every peaceful thought in her life. Instead she found herself moving through the crowded ballroom searching for him anyway, which was annoying on every level. The fundraiser had grown louder while she'd been outside. Rich donors laughed too hard, champagne glasses clinked endlessly, and a jazz band played near the dance floor. Dante stood near the center of the room looking like he wanted to burn the entire place down, and the man across from him made Ariana's steps slow immediately. Richard Cole. Former NFL legend, Westbridge donor, campus royalty. She recognized him immediately from television interviews and magazine covers, and the resemblance between father and son was unsettling, same dark eyes, same intimidating presence, same dangerous stillness. The only difference was that Richard smiled more, which somehow