Page 11 of Palm South University: Season 3
Adam throws his head back with a deep laugh before settling his eyes on mine again. “I beg to differ. You know you’ve got that sweet, innocent, naturally pretty thing down pat. And after that stunt you pulled last year? I know you can rock the hell out of a pair of leather leggings, too.”
I blush, completely unable to swallow as one hand reaches up to twirl a piece of my red hair. “I don’t know… Why don’t you ask Skyler?”
“I don’t want to ask Skyler,” Adam answers easily. I wait for more, but he just stands there, watching me, waiting.
It feels dangerous, accepting his proposal, but I have no idea why. Everything with Adam somehow feels forbidden, even when it’s as innocent as handing out fliers for a concert. Still, the way he’s looking at me, I know this isn’t about the concert. It’s about our friendship — the one we used to have, the one we both thought we’d lost, the one we both can’t live without.
“You owe me, Adam.”
“Yes!” He fist pumps the air, pulling me in for a hug and spinning me around as I continue yelling at him.
“I mean it! You owe mebigtime. And I’m not wearing leather leggings. Or high heels. And I’m not missing class, either.”
“Just be there as your schedule allows, Red.” Adam sticks out his tongue, dodging my little fists as I attempt to punish him for using the nickname I hate the most.
“Don’t push your luck!”
“Fine, fine,” he says, grabbing my wrists gently to stop the punches. He looks down at me, our chests close together, laughs subsiding as he releases my wrists again. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
He flicks his shades over his eyes after a moment, backing away slowly.
“Oh, and Cassie?” he asks, grin growing wider as he grabs the hem of his t-shirt with both hands.
I follow the motion, eyes stuck for a second before I rip them away. “Don’t you dare.”
“Welcomebackto PSU!” He smirks, stripping his shirt over his head and tossing it back at me before sprinting toward the blow-up waterslide, just like he did the first time we met. He rushes down it to a roar of screams from my sisters and I bite back a laugh, watching him all the way to the end. When he shakes the water off his hair at the end and grins back at me, my stomach dips.
I’ve missed him.
I think I already knew it before, but I finally allow myself to admit it. Maybe it doesn’t have to be him or Grayson, maybe wecanstill be friends. He doesn’t seem fazed by what happened last semester, so why am I overthinking it?
So, I drop the thought, along with Adam’s shirt, and then I peel my own sundress off and take off running. When my stomach hits the slide and I fly down to the end, water spraying and sisters cheering, I decide not to take anything too seriously this semester.
Time to make my second year at PSU even better than the first.
“I don’t like it,” Grayson says the next night after his show. It’s a little past midnight and we both have our first classes in the morning, but neither of us could say goodbye after the show ended, so we popped in a movie at his place. A movie we watched all of two minutes before talking over it, instead.
I lean up on one elbow, looking down at Grayson sprawled out next to me in his sheets that smell like him — coffee and cinnamon. His brows are pinched together, forming a deep line between them that I smooth one thumb over before running it across his bottom lip and kissing him there.
“It’s just handing out fliers,” I assure him.
“Yeah, handing out fliers with a guy who has the hots for you.”
“He does not have the hots for me,” I say with a laugh, though I’m not sure if that’s the absolute truth or not. I know he had feelings last semester, but the way he acted with me yesterday? It felt like old times. “We’re friends, Grayson. We have been since my very first day in KKB. And he’s asking me for a favor. He wouldn’t do that if he didn’t need me.”
Grayson grumbles, but then rolls me until he’s the one on top, sliding his knee between my legs to part them. “Fine,” he says, kissing me with the word. “But enough about him. Let’s talk about this sexy little dress you wore to my show tonight.”
He trails one hand down the side of the sleek fabric where a diamond-shaped cut out lets him feel the skin of my waist. I giggle at the touch, wrapping my arms around his neck as he maneuvers himself until he’s settled between my legs.
“You were amazing, by the way. That crowd was huge for a fancy schmancy restaurant.”
“You know what else is huge,” he says, smirking against my lips as he thrusts his jeans against me. The movement pushes my dress up my thighs, exposing my pink cotton thong.
I swallow hard, heart picking up speed with every kiss Grayson sweeps across my collarbone before sucking my lip between his teeth again. When he grinds into me, the friction catching, I moan into his lips without a single ounce of control.
He groans, rolling into me again and pulling my dress up higher until it rests above my hips. And though I want him so bad it physically hurts, that broken shard Clay shoved deep into my heart last year is still there, and it rubs a sharp pain against my ribs as my breathing grows shallow.