Page 4 of Can’t Let You Go (Ivy Ridge #3)

“I am!” I say, shrinking into the uncomfortable chair when the librarian walks by, shushing us with a finger to her lips, and a not so quiet shushing noise. My cheeks flame, and I glance back at Jason, my smile growing as I try to hold in my snickering laugh.

Jason’s eyes widen as he looks at the old woman walking away. “Did she shush you?”

I drop my jaw. “You’re the one who started laughing! It’s not my fault you don’t believe me that Professor Adams quoted Michael Scott and called it a great business mantra! ”

“How can I?” he questions. His brown eyes are peering into my soul, and for the fifth time in the last hour, I have to remind myself that I have a date tonight. A date that is not with Jason.

“I’m a very trustworthy person,” I say.

“Guess you’ll have to prove it to me,” Jason quips.

“You’re on.” Heart fluttering, I try to steady myself. I need to get control of my crush. He’s four years older, and a senior here at the university. Maybe that’s why I’m going on a date tonight, to remind myself of that fact.

The first day of classes last fall, Jason snuck into class ten minutes late.

For some reason, he flopped down in the chair next to mine, and acted like it was no big deal he was casually late to the first day of classes.

He had an air about him, something that screamed, “I’m a seasoned student.

” All his notebooks and binders were used.

Not the fresh, unwrinkled ones everyone else in class seemed to have.

At the end of the first mind-numbingly boring lecture, he leaned over, offering me a hand to shake.

Since that moment, we had slowly become friends, all leading up to now.

Halfway through spring semester, we meet every Wednesday afternoon in the library to study, work on homework together, or commiserate about Professor Adams. After studying, we usually end up talking for hours.

We don’t have as many classes together as we did last semester, but we still meet every week.

We’re both business majors, and surprisingly have a lot in common. Both of us are here on scholarships. He got a full ride through baseball, and I got many academic ones. That’s the only way either of us could afford to be here.

Jason wants to open his own business. He’s not sure what yet, but he’s got a lot of ideas. His Grandpa also runs his own woodworking business that his brother plans to take over, so he wants to be able to help him too.

He’s told me all about his siblings and parents.

As an only child, I always get a little jealous when he tells me about his brothers’ latest antics, but then again, I have my mom, and I’m thankful I have her, that I have the relationship I do with her.

I also am glad I didn’t have to watch a sibling go through the pain of losing my dad.

“How’s the dear old roomie?” Jason asks, pulling me from my straying thoughts.

I sigh in contempt. “It’s… fine,” I finally say.

“It sucks you have to live on campus your first year,” he says, pulling off his baseball cap and running his hands through his hair. Instead of putting it back on normally, he puts it on so the bill is backward.

Who allowed men to do that? Don’t they know what a backwards baseball cap does to women?

I clear my throat. “Yeah. Not like I know who I’d live with though.

” We’re part way through the spring semester, I’ve made one friend, Jason.

My roommate, Shiloh, is only interested in going to frat and sorority parties.

Her long-term goal is to move into a sorority house, so she has no interest in forging a friendship with me.

“I wish Marley were here, I bet you’d be great friends with her.

” Jason leans back, resting his hands behind his head.

He’s been training nearly non-stop, and the baseball season doesn’t start for a few more weeks.

His arms are thick with muscle, pectorals taut and strong. I look away, remembering what he said.

“Who is Marley?” I ask. I try to keep the accusation from my tone, but I can tell I didn’t do a good job of it when he smirks.

“Marley,” he says with a small laugh, “is my brother’s best friend. Though, she’s practically my sister. And if either of them get their head out of their asses, maybe someday she will be my sister.”

“Oh,” I reply. “Cool?”

“Yeah,” he laughs. “She’s great though. I think you would get along well with her.”

I nod, twirling my pencil in my finger. The sun is setting, but it’s winter, so it gets dark early. I take a look at the clock across the room and groan.

I don’t know why I agreed to this date tonight.

I’d much rather hang with Jason, but maybe I shouldn’t want to.

I should let him enjoy his senior year of college without some freshman hanging on his arm, desperate for his attention.

He should be out with his friends, partying, or whatever it is seniors do.

“I don’t know what I’ll do next year,” I say, bringing the conversation back around. “Usually people end up rooming with friends their sophomore year, and since I don’t have any of them, I’m screwed.”

Jason grimaces. “Well, I’d offer up my place, but…” he trails off.

I laugh. “Yeah, sorry, but not sure I’d want to live in your shared house, even if you weren’t graduating in the spring. Rooming with four guys? Sounds… yucky.”

“Hey,” Jason protests. “I will have you know that we are very clean boys. Men. We are clean men . We have a chore wheel, and we get beer for each task we complete.”

“I… I’m not surprised whatsoever.” I laugh. “A chore wheel with beer as a reward? Yeah, definitely sounds like the place to be,” I say, sarcasm lacing my words.

“Is it weird I wish I wasn’t graduating this year?”

“Why?” I blink at the rapid change in subject.

Jason shrugs, looking up at the ceiling. He doesn’t respond.

I pause, wanting to give him a moment. When we near a full minute passing, and he hasn’t said anything, I speak. “Jason. Why don’t you want to graduate?”

“It sounds silly to say out loud.”

“Nothing you say is silly.”

“I’m not ready. I’ve had four years to fuck around, go to classes and work my ass off to earn this degree, but yet, I’m not ready. The thought of starting out in the real world is terrifying.”

“I hate to sound like something from an infomercial, but… You can do anything you set your mind to. You’re going to be amazing, Jason. Anyone can see that. I’m pretty sure you’re the only reason I’m passing Econ.”

“Liar,” he says, some of his easy humor returning. “You passed the last test with flying colors. I didn’t even have to write the answers on my hand to flash you during the test.”

“Jason!” I scold. “You have never done that.”

“Nope, but I would if you asked.”

I shouldn’t swoon over him offering to help me cheat on a test, but I do. “I won’t ask.” I laugh.

He shrugs, that smile I love so much appearing on his face. “What are you doing tonight?”

I shrink. “Um. I ? —”

I’m interrupted by someone sitting in the chair beside me, scooting too close for comfort.

“Hey babe,” the person says. I turn, and realize it’s Brad. We met in the cafeteria a few days ago, and he didn’t really give me much of an option but to take his number. At the use of the pet name, I instantly regret agreeing to a date.

“Uh,” I clear my throat. “Hi, Brad.” I glance between Jason and Brad, regretting my entire existence.

Jason looks back and forth, brows furrowing.

“Jason, this is Brad.” I don’t introduce him with a title, because how does one say, “Hey, ‘ guy I’m totally crushing on but never have a chance with ’, here’s the frat boy I agreed to go out with so I can get my mind off you? ”

Brad reaches across the table, taking Jason’s hand in a rough shake. I internally wince at my idiocy.

“I was just picking Fallon up for our date,” Brad announces, and I look over at him with wide eyes. I definitely never told him to pick me up at the library. We agreed on my dorm at seven, and it’s barely even six.

Is this some sort of pissing contest he is trying to win? I’m incredulous as I glare at him, begging him to take a hint and leave.

He doesn’t get it.

“Ready, babe?” he asks, standing and offering me his hand. I can do one of two things in this moment. I can go with him, or I can stay with Jason, and let my crush fester.

Do I do the sane thing, and stay with the man who’s been nothing but nice to me? Or do I make the stupidest choice ever and put my hand in the palm of the boy who is wearing a salmon colored polo and khaki shorts in the dead of winter?

Obviously, I do the stupid thing.

The look on Jason’s face as I say goodbye haunts me for weeks. He starts to avoid me, skipping our weekly meetups, only helping if I ask, and barely talking to me during and after class. Eventually, he goes silent altogether.

I swallow the lump in my throat as I push down the memories of that kind young man who helped pull me out of my shell.

I was randomly assigned a roommate the next fall, and somehow got lucky and it was Megan.

We became best friends, which was also in my favor because Jason and I never got back to what we used to be after that night.

After he graduated, I never saw him again. Until tonight.

What am I going to say? Of course I’m going to have to interact with him. There’s no way we won’t. He’s the brother of the groom and in the wedding party. Do I bite the bullet and get it over with? Or do I wait for a natural interaction that’s sure to be awkward as hell?

I take a deep breath as I make my way back to the reception hall.

I spot him walking over to the bar. It’s now or never.

I might as well do it. He gets another bottle of beer and thanks the bartender with a chin tip.

I stride over to him before I can psych myself out of it.

I smooth my shirt and silently curse myself for feeling self conscious.

I’m not the same girl I was all those years ago, he probably won’t even recognize me.

I clear my throat as I approach him. He turns, and it’s almost like a punch to the gut.

He’s as handsome as he was then. His deep brown eyes are glazed as he takes me in, his gaze roaming up and down my body.

“Um, hi, Jason?” I state, clearing my throat again when my voice cracks.

“I’m sure you don’t remember me, but, my name is?—”

“Fallon,” Jason breathes my name, recognition arising on his face.