Page 42

Alister reaches out again, cupping my cheek, but I don’t lean into his touch this time.

My eyes begin to water, but I’m not sure why.

“Cameron,” he whispers, leaning closer.

He’s going to kiss me. I can see it in his eyes. He’s going to kiss me, and I don’t know if I’m going to stop him.

My eyes close, a tear warming my skin before the cool air hits it and makes me shiver.

“Cameron,” he whispers again, his breath fanning across my lips.

My phone rings, and I jolt, looking down to find Mason’s picture flashing across the screen .

“Hey.” I answer immediately, turning to the side a little.

“He’s turning onto Avix Street, about a mile from the green strip. He’s gotta drive right past your dorm to hit the highway.”

I nod. “Thanks. I owe you one.”

“We’ll cash in on that in the form of a toddler.”

A choked laugh leaves me, and I sniffle. “Make it easy on me, why don’t you?”

Mason chuckles, and I hang up, my gaze snapping to Alister’s.

My smile is faint as I whisper, “I’m sorry but I have to go.”

I spin on my heels.

“I love you, Cameron.”

His words slam into me, and my feet freeze, eyes slamming closed. “No, you don’t.”

“But I do.” The shuffle in the grass tells me he’s coming closer. “And if you would just give us a chance, I know you could love me too.”

My lip starts to wobble. “I have been honest and up front with you this entire time.”

“I know.” He nods. “I know but just think about it. Please.”

Everything he’s saying is the right thing to say. The problem is, it’s not a chance he’s asking for.

It’s a second one.

His hands fold around my forearms, and he shifts us slightly. “Say something.”

“I…” I stare into his eyes. It would be easy to give him one.

He says he’s sorry. I know he is. I not only see it, but I can feel it.

He was hurting, and that hurt led him to make a poor decision. No one is perfect, especially not brand-new adults in a new place with new people and a broken heart.

He moves in again, and the look in his eyes is too much. They’re the wrong color.

The wrong shape.

The wrong man ?

My gaze moves over his shoulder, and instantly, a familiar truck a few blocks down catches my eye.

I shake my head, pulling away, and give his hand a little squeeze. “I have to go, Alister. I’m sorry but…” I don’t say anything else.

I start jogging straight ahead, past the grass and through the parking lot that leads to the main road. Once on the sidewalk, I pause, trying to decide if I should cross or not.

He might not see me if I stay on this side.

I wait for the road to clear and dart to the other side.

He’s at the last red light, but he’s not looking this way. He’s staring in the opposite direction. He’s staring at my dorm building.

Thankfully, this light isn’t a through street for other cars to cross but a walking path for students, so I run out into the middle of the road and wait.

Brady

The hundredth fucking sigh leaves me, and I drop my head against the headrest, trying to clear my mind, but it’s like a track is skipping, the same damn verse playing on repeat.

I’m going to talk to her and tell her I love her.

Fuck me .

Alister is in love with Cameron. Or at least he thinks he is.

I don’t want him to be. I want him to say he’s putting the ball down and walking away, waving his white flag of defeat. I want him to go away.

Jesus, Brady, what the hell have you gotten yourself into, man?

It’s not like she and I could ever be real.

Not when I’ve played into this fake persona the rest of the world has painted me as, and for what?

To make things easier on myself? To not be the talk of the team?

I’m far from ashamed, the polar fucking opposite in fact, but for it to come out now will make things worse .

How will she look at me when she finds out I’m so far from what she thinks I am?

When she finds out that the infamous playboy she’s known all her life is pretty much a preacher’s son?

A virgin at twenty years old. By choice, obviously, but what does that matter?

I’m a liar who hates lies.

I clench my eyes tighter and sigh. Not that she’d want to be with me anyway. I’m her friend.

We’re friends.

Okay, but even if we did have feelings for each other, it wouldn’t last. The fun and newness of having something real would wear off, and we’d fall back into the friend routine because it’s what we know.

But then again, what do we do now that we didn’t do before?

We laugh and have a good-ass time together, but that’s nothing new.

I fall asleep holding her in her bed sometimes, but I’ve done that a hundred times in the past—probably literally a hundred with all the years we’ve been friends.

She’s always had the most comfortable blankets, so no shit I picked her to bunk with when she and Ari weren’t sharing a bed. It’s not like it was some subconscious part of myself trying to show me what I couldn’t see.

And yeah, we’ve kissed a few times, but not because we just had to fucking go for it. It was just…necessary—to prove a point to the guy she does have feelings for.

The guy who is probably with her right now, pouring his fucking heart out to my girlfriend.

Fake girlfriend.

I groan.

Fuck, man.

But we have kissed because we just had to, haven’t we ?

That night in her dorm, the way her body shook and the sounds she was making—there was no way I could pretend to stay asleep. I had to see her, touch her, fucking taste her.

“Shit,” I hiss, scrubbing my hands down my face.

A horn blares behind me, and I jerk, my eyes flying open, my foot instinctively easing off the pedal. I start to roll, maybe a single inch, and then reality catches up to me, and I slam back on the brakes, eyes crashing into my favorite blue pair.

I throw my truck into park, tracking her movements, glued to her as she jogs over and yanks on the passenger door. Her eyes snap up to mine, blond brows raising.

“Fuck.” I lean over, flicking the lock, and she tugs the handle at the same time as I pull it, helping her shove it open.

She climbs in, shivering slightly, and closes it behind her. She puts her seat belt on and blasts the heater, holding her fingers to the vent.

And I just…stare at her, mouth agape.

The horn honks again, and I jolt, quickly putting the car in drive, and start rolling right as the light turns yellow, trapping all the cars behind me at the light yet again.

“What…” is all I can get out, my head yanking from her to the road several times before I finally give up and jerk the truck to the side, parking in a red zone for just a minute.

We look at each other at the same time.

“What the ever-loving hell were you doing standing in the middle of the road?”

“Catching a taxi.” She cocks her head. “If you were paying attention, you’d have seen my hand raised and everything.”

She’s teasing, the little brat, but for real, what the hell?

She should be with Alister right now, not sitting in the passenger seat of my truck.

“You should really get on the road if we want to beat the evening traffic later,” she suggests.

I just blink at her, and she flicks off her little fur-lined boots, folding her legs beneath her. “Hold on.” I raise my hand, taking a deep breath. “Who told you I was going home?”

“Ari.”

I frown. “And how did Ari know?”

“She talked to Mason.”

“And how exactly did Mason know?”

She shrugs. “Beats me.”

“All right, and how did you know where to find me?”

“Mason has your location.”

“Goddamn, we have some nosy-ass fucking friends, don’t we?”

She laughs at that, and I just…watch her. The way it lights up her eyes, the curve of her lips, the way she nibbles at them as her laughter tapers off. “That we do, Lancaster. Now, are we going to get on the road or what? Because as you can see, I am the hottest of messes.”

Damn straight you are. A beautiful mess.

I clear my throat, looking toward her dorm a moment before facing her again. “I’m staying the whole weekend.”

“Cool.”

“Not coming home till late Sunday night.”

She grabs the blanket I keep in here for her and lays it over her legs. “Perfect, but can we stop for coffee first?”

A laugh leaves me, and I shake my head and lick my lips. “You sure you want to come?”

“Dead-ass.”

“Did you… Have you…”

“Did I, have I…what?” Her eyes narrow slightly.

Talked to Alister?

Obviously, she hasn’t. She definitely wouldn’t be here with me if she had.

Would she?

I bite my damn tongue and decide not to tell her. She’ll find out soon enough anyway. “You don’t even have a bag. ”

“Please.” She smirks, this time kicking her feet up on the dash.

“I don’t need a bag to go home. I got my phone, which has Apple Pay, and if by some strange coincidence my parents are gone the one weekend I come home, then I’ll just borrow something of yours.

Wouldn’t be the first time I wore one of your shirts as a dress. ”

“No, it wouldn’t.”

See? Just doing things we’ve been doing for years. All’s good.

She lifts her chin in triumph, tugging on the string of her hoodie.

My eyes fall to her chest. Correction, my hoodie. You know, the one that’s resting against spiky-tipped barbells pierced through her perfectly plump nipples and that has my name and number all over it.

All over her.

She’s officially allowed to keep it. In fact, I insist.

Oh no.

I shift in my seat.

Thank God I’m wearing fucking jeans.

I hold her gaze. “You really want to go home with me?”

“Sure, Lancaster, I guess I’ll go with you. You don’t have to beg.”

My grin grows, and she gives me a playful little glare.

“But only if you get me coffee first.”

A laugh leaves me, and I pull away from the curb.

“One Caramel Cookie Crumble with extra cookie and extra crumble coming right up.”

She smiles and faces forward.

Ten minutes later, when we get into the drive-through line at the coffee shop, she scoots into the middle, and that’s where she stays for the entire drive home.

My heart gives a little thump, like a fist bump from it to me, as a sense of rightness falls over me. I wouldn’t want it any other way.