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CHAPTER TWO

Cameron

“Remind me why I agreed to this again?” I whine the second I drag my feet out of my dorm and spot Brady right where he said he’d be waiting. “It’s like the witching hour.”

Brady grins, pushing off his shoulder and walking closer with his arms behind his back. “It’s eight in the morning, baby girl.”

“Like I said: the witching hour.” My lips poke out in a pout, shoulders drooped and all. “The sun isn’t even fully in the sky yet.”

“If you took those giant saucers you call sunglasses off, you’d see the sun is nice and high, but either way, you know I got you.” He brings his hands forward, revealing what he was hiding.

I freeze on the spot, eyes glued to the familiar to-go cup. “Is that an iced Caramel Cookie Crumble with extra cookie and extra crumble?”

“You mean is this a whole-ass sugar bomb for the sugar queen? Yes. Yes, it is.”

I squeal, erasing the distance between us, and take the large drink into my hands, inhaling the addictive scent of toasted chocolate chip.

My eyes close, and I go in for a decent-sized suck through the straw, so I won’t get brain freeze.

“I fucking love you, Brady Lancaster.” He merely laughs and I can’t be bothered to open my eyes, just sigh, leaning forward and letting my forearms rest against Brady’s chest with a smile.

“Such a good boy, you are. Let’s make Ari jealous.

” I pull my phone out, putting my straw to my lips, and Brady lifts his drink into the frame too, pressing his chin to my cheek with a smirk.

I snap the photo and send it to my best friend.

Me: Proof. He loves me more.

“Wait!” Brady tries to snag the phone, but I dodge his grabby hands and spin around, straw stuck between my lips.

“Girl.” He points a finger at me. “If you just cost me that plate of spicy spaghetti she promised to bring me tomorrow night, you’re getting an ass whoopin’.”

“You mean the way I’m about to whoop your ass in Communications.”

“Oh no. I’m talking a full-on, over-the-knee ass whoopin’, Cammie Baby.” He steps in close. “No one messes with my food.”

I hum, cocking my head to the side, straw stuck between my teeth. “Is that what you tell the girls at night, Big Daddy?”

“Wouldn’t tell you if it was, Little Mama.”

“Original,” I tease.

“I was trying to be matchy-matchy.”

A laugh spurts from me, and Brady’s chuckle follows.

He shuffles back only to lock his arm around my neck so he can tug me along at his pace. “Come on. I think the sugar is kicking in, so we should hustle our asses to the library before the good spot is gone.”

“Good spot,” I deadpan. “At the library? Aren’t all the tables in the same area?”

“You’d know if you ever spent any time in there.”

“Hey, number ninety-eight,” a group of girls calls out, giggling and waving at Brady.

“Ladies,” he damn near croons, glancing back at me with a laugh he swallows for their benefit.

I, unfortunately, accidently let mine slip but continue with our conversation. “Why would I do a thing like that when I have a perfectly good dorm room?”

“Uh-huh, and how much studying did you get done last night?”

“None. I watched a whole season of The Last Kingdom .”

Brady throws his head back with a laugh and mine follows. “Thanks for making my point, even if I have no idea what that is.”

“Vikings. Big ones. Hot ones.” I side-eye him, peeking up at his dirty-blond hair. “Actually, you would make a good Viking.”

“That right?” His lips quirk, and he nods at someone who walks by, guiding me along the walking path.

“Oh yeah, I can see it now. You would be right at home—eat meat with your hands, never have to wear a shirt, and fuck whoever you wanted.”

Brady’s head snaps my way, and he gives me a teasing glare. “First of all, I don’t eat meat with my hands.”

I raise a brow. “Three weeks ago. Santa Monica Pier.”

“It was a food truck festival, and they had turkey legs!”

“That you…” I lead.

He grins, tickling my side, and I duck out of his hold, pointing my drink at him.

“See? Right at home.” I laugh.

“You’re a brat, Cameron Cox.”

“And you still love me.”

He scoffs, but it’s playful, and this time when he hooks his arm over my shoulders, he curls it, using his other to make a mess out of my hair.

“Shithead!” I shove, but his big-ass body goes nowhere and then we’re both laughing, but as I face forward, I instantly pout, realizing we reached the steps of the dreaded library. “Curse you for dragging me here…but bless you for feeding me sugar first.”

“You didn’t really think I’d expect you to make it through the walk here, let alone the rest of the morning, without a pick-me-up did you? ”

“I would very much like you to pick me up right now, thank you.”

Brady shakes his head and starts up the steps. “Come on, girl.” He chuckles.

I follow like a sad puppy and blindly drop into the chair that Brady pulls out for me, glancing around as he lowers into the seat at my side.

I frown at the space, looking over my shoulder at the mostly empty tables—because only crazy people come to the library to study before morning classes. Well, at least not this early in the semester anyway.

Honestly, what do I know?

“I thought you said you wanted the best table. We’re literally at the front where everyone and their mom has to walk right by us to even get in here.”

“Everyone and their mom and…” He trails off, stretching his head to the right, and I follow his line of sight but see nothing.

When I look back to him, his smile slowly stretches, so I glance over again just in time to watch as a short, cutesy redhead comes out of the aisle, pushing a cart of books.

I follow her progress, my lips pressing together to fight a smile as she parks her cart at the podium-style desk right across from us.

The moment she hops up into the barstool-style chair, I glance over at Brady, who is focused on her.

“Good spot, huh?” I deadpan.

“Best one in the house.” He grins, breaking his gaze away from the little librarian and meeting mine. “She wants me.”

“Does she even know you?”

“Not yet.”

We both start laughing.

And then we get to work.

A little over an hour later, Chase slides up to the table, scoffing when he sees where we’re sitting, his attention moving to the redhead a moment before coming back .

“I see he’s still hoping to catch the quiet one’s attention,” Chase jokes.

“More like demanding her attention.”

“Hey. Don’t forget, we’re here for you.” Brady looks my way as he pushes to his feet with a tip to his lips and shoves his shit in his backpack. “I’m a God at Communications, and you know what they say about killing two birds with one stone.”

“That only future serial killers throw rocks at innocent animals?”

Chase chuckles and Brady tosses a crumpled paper at my head. “That’s it, brat. You’re Chase’s problem now. I’m out of here.”

He hustles away, and I leave my bag, trusting Chase to snag it as I speed after Brady, jumping up on his back.

Brady catches me around the thighs instantly, used to my habit of making myself his backpack. “You’re getting scary good at that.”

“It helps that my landing spot is built like Bane—the Tom Hardy version, of course.”

“Not sure if that’s a compliment or not, Cammie Baby.”

“At least she didn’t compare you to Chad Michael Murray,” Chase says as he catches up.

Brady and I start laughing, glancing over at Chase, and just as I figured, my bag is hanging from his left hand.

“To be fair”—I grin—“I was trying to be an asshole. You needed a haircut and were acting like a douche.”

“Hey.” He raises his free hand in surrender. “I’m not saying it wasn’t deserved, just a low blow.”

“What’s a low blow?”

A frown instantly forms along Chase’s brow, and we all face forward just as Paige walks up, her flowy, pastel-pink dress meeting her knees, paired with cute flats a sparking pearl-like color.

I smile at the little fairyesque girl we met our first year here at Avix.

She’s a good friend of Ari’s boyfriend, Noah, and he introduced us to her not long after he and Ari started hanging out.

After my best friend’s near-death accident at the end of our freshman year, we got to know her better, and she’s been a part of our ever-growing group ever since.

“Telling everyone about Chase’s secret man crush on Chad Michael Murray,” I joke.

Chase groans and Paige tucks her hair behind her ear with a laugh.

“I’m going to call my mom back real fast,” Chase mumbles, moving ahead of us, and I notice the way Brady turns his head to follow his friend’s path.

Paige looks from Chase’s departing form to us, a small, possibly forced, smile on her lips, and we fall in step beside her, walking slower as we wait for the rest of the gang to come around the corner as planned.

“So did you figure out if you can come with us to the game on Saturday?” I ask Paige, resting my cheek on the back of Brady’s head.

Paige’s shoulders fall and she shakes her head. “I don’t think I’m going to make it.”

“The womb donor’s parental still asking to see you?”

She gives an uneasy smile. “More like demanding. Why a man I’ve never met thinks he has a right to tell me what to do is beyond me.”

I don’t know all that much about Paige’s life before Avix, just that she was raised by a single dad, her mom having overdosed just after she was born. But I do know she likes to please people.

So I’m not surprised when she says, “I’m just going to meet him for dinner, let him say whatever it is he wants to say, and hope he leaves me alone after that.”

“Is your mom’s side a bunch of assholes?” Brady asks.

“I have no idea.” She looks off, seemingly lost in thought. “My dad told me my mom had no family. He either had a good reason to lie to me or he didn’t know.”

Neither Brady nor I comment. Like the twins and Chase, the two of us also came from full, loving homes with more support than we could ask for.

I don’t think Paige lacked love from her dad.

If I remember right, Noah said they were really close, and it couldn’t have been easy to only have one person in your life you could depend on.

It had to be even harder to then lose that person.

But her mom, I know, was a different story, so it must be hard to learn she had family out there she never even knew about.

“Anyway, I might make the party after the game, but I won’t know for sure until the time comes.”

Mason and Ari walk up, and Chase rejoins us, his frown still present.

“All right, let’s go eat before all the good shit is gone.” I reach back, smacking Brady on the butt. “Giddy up, horsey.”

Brady looks to the boys. “Last one to the steps has to save the table and gets their food last?”

Mason smirks and bends at the knees, and Ari instinctively hops up on her brother’s back. “You’re on, Lancaster.”

We all look to Chase.

His gaze snaps between his friends, settling last on Paige, who chews her lip and looks the other direction. His eyes narrow on the tiny blond. “She’s wearing a dress.”

“So cup her ass. Nothing will show.” Brady laughs and I smack him on the arm.

Chase stares at Paige, and finally, she gives a little shrug.

He drops our bags onto the grass and pulls a hoodie out of his, gingerly wrapping it around her waist.

“I could do it,” she says softly.

Chase ignores her and ties it low across her belly. He turns, silently lowering to one knee.

Paige climbs on and he pushes to his feet as if she weighs less than a butterfly.

Brady grabs my bag and Chase takes his once more. “On three? ”

“One.”

“Two.”

All three guys cheat, breaking out in a full sprint before the count is finished, and we can only laugh.

This.

This happy-family feeling is the one I want to hold on to.

But there’s a pattern that seems to be following me here at Avix U.

Everything I try to hold on to…I have to let go.

Let’s hope this year it’s not something I can’t live without.