Give You Up (Dumas University Book 1)

by Ashlyn Mathews

  “Want some?”

  Hell yeah. I nod. Straighten in my seat. She hands me the cup, and I press my mouth on the spot her mouth was on, not ashamed one bit if my lips are stained with her pink lipstick. I take a small swig and give her back her sweet treat and dose of caffeine. Syn gets cranky if she goes without her morning cup of Joe.

  Speaking of dose, I lean over the armrest and say in a low voice, “Syn, I’ve been thinking about your anxiety and the rash. You should get tested for allergies. Make it official. I’ve never heard of anyone getting hives from anxiety.”

  “I don’t have the money. Student medical coverage only covers so much.”

  “I’ll pay.”

  “You’re already paying me big bucks to keep you in line.”

  “Then let me provide you with personal medical insurance.”

  She looks at me and rolls her eyes. Okay, then. Man, she is stubborn.

  “Syn, I’m more than willing.” And I am a persistent son of a bitch.

  “They poke you lots and lots of times with a bazillion needles. I don’t like needles.”

  Who does? I point out the obvious. “You’re tatted and pierced.”

  “That’s different. I had liquid courage and smoked a bud with Dare and Midnight.”

  “You smoked a joint?”

  “Did I stutter?”

  “Fucking insane, Syn.”

  “It wasn’t at the time. Anyway, it’s the only way I can handle needles, and no way will a medical person test me if I show up drunk and high.”

  “Yet the tattoo artist inked you?”

  “Midnight knows Peyton, and Ty is my friend Ever’s brother. When you’re ready to get inked, let me know. I’ll hold your hand.”

  “Will that make me a part of your four-man—I mean, two-man, two-woman crew?”

  “Like I said, our crew is closed to new members.”

  “Kind of like your snuggling gig?”

  “Yep.” Satisfied grin on her face, and I can’t help it. I grasp the adorable stubborn jut of her chin between my fingers. Flick my thumb across her bottom lip. Her eyes flutter closed.

  “Do you like?” I say near her ear.

  “Yes,” she murmurs.

  I stroke the other direction. “What if it were my tongue instead?”

  “Even better.”

  I press my mouth on the soft shell of her ear. “My cock?”

  “Hotter.”

  “My mouth full on yours?”

  “The best.”

  She trembles, and I want to give her all of the above and more, but we’re in class. Fuck. We’re in class. The air around us goes from quiet to a shit ton of conversations.

  Syn’s eyes flare open. She, too, forgot. Damn, that’s never happened before, getting so lost in a girl and her reaction to me, her body in tune to mine, her mouth giving as good as the words I’m uttering, that I lost track of where I was.

  This girl . . . I could get lost in this girl and never want to be found again.

  “I—” Her finger skims over her bottom lip. Syn blinks a few times. I really threw her for a loop with my dirty mouth. “We should stop.”

  When a girl tells me to stop, I listen. “Ball’s in your court. When you’re ready for more, you tell me.”

  She nods, still looking dazed. Dazed but beautiful. Class starts, and Syn is a different person. She leans away from me and presses her body against the opposite armrest, her focus on the lecture.

  I slouch in my seat and try my damnedest to pay attention to what the professor is spouting about. Class is boring. Syn next to me is a different beast altogether. She’s the only girl I want to talk to until I’m out of breath. There is a lot to catch up on.

  Where’d she go after her mother died? I got the impression her father lived in Mossy Rock, too, though I never met him. Didn’t see proof he existed in the likes of family pictures either when I went over to Syn’s place for dinners with Syn and her mom. Why’d she cheat on me with Grady? If she had feelings for the douchebag, why didn’t she break up with me first?

  Of all the guys she had to have kissed, why did it have to be the guy I hated the most? He’s the one who spread the rumors of my dad cheating on my mom.

  “Taron, are you okay?” Syn asks out the side of her mouth.

  “Yeah, why?”

  She tips her head downward. I have a white-knuckle grip on the armrest. Shit. I let go and pretend I’m taking notes. Tap down the rage swirling inside me. I lose interest in the lecture halfway through class, but my interest is piqued when the professor gives us an assignment that is half of our grade.

  “I’ve assigned you in pairs based on your last names. Same sex. Opposite sex. Doesn’t matter. You and your partner work through the assignment as just that, partners. Fair warning. I have had partners become real life couples afterward.”

  Fuck me, my last name starts with V and Syn is W. There’s a high chance we’ll be paired up.

  “I posted the pairings on the classroom site. Click on your names. The scenarios are in there. Four of them. Talk and work through each one, then write a report, one due each week by the end of the week. If you have questions, please come see me.”

  Everyone gets on their phones or laptops. I hope we don’t crash the system. I log onto the site using my phone. Sure enough, Syn and I are paired.

  “Wipe that shit-eating grin off your face, Taron.”

  “I’d rather you do it for me, Pixie Dust.”

  Class is dismissed. Crossing her eyes and sticking out her tongue at me, Syn rises from her seat. I watch her walk away, my eyes glued to her swaying hips and tight ass. Her pants mold to her like a second skin. I can’t stop smiling. Syn is sexy. Beautiful.

  I send her a text.

  Me: Discuss class project after practice? Soon, babe, you’ll have to stick to me like white on rice for you to get paid

  Speaking of class project, what is Syn’s major? I’ll ask her at our “discussion.” If I’m lucky, there’ll be less talking and more of me staring at her beautiful face. Fuck sake, Taron, get your head out of your fucking pants. But it’s been too long since you’ve boned a girl, B-man whines. I blow out a breath, rise from my seat, and head to my place for a cold shower.

  I’ve been taking a lot of those these days.

  On the way out, I get a text from Syn.

  Pixie Dust: Work romance out of the question, then? Smirk.

  Me: Up to you. Wink. Wink.

  She sends back an eye-roll emoji. I laugh.

  Pixie Dust: Heading to Midnight’s bar afterward, remember?

  Ah, shit, that’s right.

  Me: You. Me. Bar. Tap. See u

  Three eye-roll emojis this time. Okay, then. I smile. Typical Syn.

  At my place, I shower, then plop down on the bed. Phone in hand, I search up the Sterling guys and stalk their social media accounts. There are posts after posts of Dare and Midnight with their “girls.” No need doing a search on Syn. Online, she doesn’t exist. Wasn’t on social media even when we dated.

  The only reason she gave was her father wouldn’t want her personal business online for all to see. Huh. When she told me that, I accepted her word as is. Why pry? Prying would only have her clamming up more.

  Now that I think back to our times together, Syn rarely spoke of her father other than to say she spent her free time with him when she wasn’t with me or her mom.

  Mulling over how private Syn is and that I might have been wrong about what I knew of her back in our teens, I search for reassurance that I did know who Syn was, down to what she liked and didn’t like.

  I find what I’m looking for in my archived photos. It’s my favorite one of us from high school. I am standing behind Syn with my arms draped over her shoulders.

  My team won that first home game our junior year. I celebrated the win by making it official with Syn. I asked her to be my girl and she said yes, her eyes so bright and her smile so big, I replayed that scene over and over in my head for forever.

 
; Even now, that memory hasn’t faded. It only grows brighter with our proximity after years apart. Moving my finger over the screen, I blow up the picture.

  Syn’s hair spills over her chest, the tips almost hitting her belly button. She’s happy. We’re happy. I miss those innocent days of just being a couple without a care in the world. There was no thinking of the future. No wondering if we’ll last beyond high school or college. There was just the here and now.

  Across the hallway, a door opens. Andy pokes his head inside my room.

  “You going to Midnight’s bar tonight?”

  “Yeah. You?”

  “Sure.”

  “Were you at Galley’s party last night?” I hit the side button on my phone. The screen goes dark.

  “Yep. I saw what you did for Lily. If it were me, I’d hunt down the dude who brought tears to her eyes and rip him a new asshole.”

  “You like her?”

  When I drove Lily home last night, I set the record straight. I am not interested in starting anything with a girl other than Syn. I felt crummy dropping the news on her after the shit night she had, but I did not want to mislead her either. She took the news well. Thank fuck. I do not need a stalker or a clinger.

  “I have a class with her. She’s mega quiet.”

  He didn’t answer my question, but his smile is a dead giveaway.

  “She transferred in last year, and seeing as how you’re friends with everyone on campus, she’ll appreciate someone taking her under his wing without fear you’ll want to feel her up.”

  Andy is a standup dude. He is also fast on the field. One of the best running backs.

  “I can do that. Why don’t you ask her to come with tonight? Syn is cool, and I bet she’ll put Lily at ease. Syn used to be like Lily, all quiet and shit. Man, that girl was hot with long hair. Is hotter now with her shorter cut. It showcases her eyes, you know?”

  Don’t I.

  “And those piercings? Makes a guy wonder what else is pierced and where else she’s inked.”

  Dammit, what were those Sterling D-bags thinking filling Syn with booze and pot? If they ever fucking do that again, I’ll be tearing into them.

  “Hey, you okay, bro?”

  I blink. “Yeah, why?”

  “You had this ragey expression, like you’re ready to commit murder.”

  “Just thinking of steamrolling over our opponents. The tide changes this season. We’ll bring home the championship.”

  “Thank fuck. I did not want to deadbolt my door.”

  “Fuck off.”

  “You fuck off, fucker.”

  We flip each other the bird. Laughing, Andy walks away. “See you at practice, bro. Don’t forget to text Lily.”

  I find Lily in my contacts and send her a text.

  Me: How you holding up? I’m here if you need someone to talk to

  Lily: Thanks Taron. Still getting over the shock of what happened

  When I get ahold of the POS who dares think it’s okay to feel up a girl without her consent . . .

  Me: This might be too soon and if so, I understand, but would you like to go out with Andy and me tonight? We’re heading to Shades after practice.

  Lily: I would love to but have already made plans. Can I take a raincheck?

  Me: Sure thing

  Lily: Thanks Taron! Cannot wait to meet Andy

  I toss my phone on the bed. Fall back. Close my eyes.

  Practice isn’t coming fast enough.

  14

  Syn

  “You did what?!”

  Arms crossed, Midnight glares at me.

  I shush him.

  “You telling me to shut up?”

  “Keep it down. You yelling at me is embarrassing.”

  “I’m not the one who promised the football team a round of drinks,” he says, his voice low.

  Half are coming in tonight and the other half, tomorrow. All they need to do is show their DU student ID and football jersey.

  “Take it out of my pay.” I cross my arms, mirroring Midnight’s stance.

  Give Midnight an inch and he will take your soul. Is that what happened with him and Riley? Did he take advantage of Riley’s kindness and generosity? Or is it the other way around?

  It’s difficult to know with those two. They have this hate-to-love, love-to-hate thing going on that changes minute by minute and day by day. Case in point, tonight, they are hating on one another.

  “There’s nothing to take. You hardly put in hours.”

  “Then let me detail your Escalade.”

  “And risk you taking it for a joyride? No go, Syn.”

  “How else can I repay you?”

  “Get yourself a boyfriend.”

  “What?” I sputter. “Midnight, you can’t be serious. Dare will have a shitfit.”

  “Stop with the excuses, Syn.”

  “Excuses?” I narrow my eyes. “What kind of crap are you pulling?”

  “The kind where you talk to Dom, have him point out the dude who has our mark on his body, and you somehow worm your way into this dude’s life.”

  Blowing out a breath, I lower myself onto one of the crates. “Explain.”

  “A girl who works for Dom slept with the dude. She informed him the guy has the same ink as us.”

  “And you care why?” I care for a different reason. What if he’s the one who hurt Natalie? “It’s a free country,” I add. “He can have whatever he wants inked on his skin.”

  “Not where I’m concerned. We came up with the concept. Agreed on the drawing, our symbol of friendship.”

  Until something happened between him and Riley. Whatever it was, the two of them refuse to talk about it with me and Dare or each other. They can be so stubborn.

  “No one should be inked with it unless they give me a valid reason. Get the reason. Do this for me and I’ll call us even.”

  “Why can’t Dom ask the woman to get the reason?”

  “Because our business is none of hers.”

  “What if she comes after me for trying to get with him?”

  “She won’t. Annabelle isn’t into repeat performances.”

  “Then he must not be very good in bed.”

  “Syn.” He crams his fingers in his hair. “Fuck sakes, will you do it?”

  “Why not ask Riley?”

  “She doesn’t need a fucking boyfriend unless that guy is me!”

  “Hey, no need getting your panties in a bunch.”

  “I don’t wear panties. Men wear fucking underwear.”

  “Easy with the f-bombs.”

  “Syn.”

  “Dare won’t like your plan.”

  “Couldn’t give a flying fuck.”

  He’s lying. How do I know? Midnight is not looking me in the eye.

  “He’ll survive a weekend without you.”

  “I’m working with the football team. Games are coming up.”

  “In three weeks. Go this weekend, snag the guy’s attention, start something with him. Also, take the guy who has a boner for you as backup.”

  “Which guy would this be?” I ask.

  “The QB.”

  “For what reason? He’ll punch any guy who comes near me.”

  “Exactly. Spin a good story. Say he’s a distant cousin.”

  Involving Taron in our business is a bad idea. Plus, he has enough to deal with, namely guys who can sabotage how he plays the game. However, I can kill many birds with one stone.

  Bird one: I’m already his PA and am expected to go where he goes. Why not turn the tables and bring him with me?

  Bird two: he and I are stuck doing an assignment together.

  Bird three: he doesn’t want me to go after Natalie’s assailant alone.

  Bird four: he believes he can get closure by getting to know the new me. Once he understands the real me, he’ll realize we belong in different worlds.

  I like order. Taron is not orderly, thriving on chaos. He is into shy. I left shy behind when I got involved with Hunter. Taro
n prefers sophistication in his women. I am all about edgy. They say opposites attract. I’ll prove whoever came up with that dumb line wrong.

  “Fine, I’ll do it.” After I’m done with my short shift here, I’ll go home and rearrange my calendar.

  He squeezes my shoulder. “Good. Let’s get the team their round of drinks on the house.”

  I shove open the door of the backroom with Midnight close behind me. On the way past the bar, he tips his head at the bartenders, giving them the okay to serve the team their drinks. I make a special request. Benny shoots me a sly grin, mixes the shots, and sets it on my serving tray.

  Dressed in my uniform of black slacks and a white buttoned-up shirt, I saunter over to the long banquet table in the middle of the bar. Jackson is sitting across from Taron. They’re shooting daggers at one another with their eyes. Jackson’s intense green eyes to the bottomless pool of ink of Taron’s.

  Standing next to Jackson, I place his shot glass in front of him before reaching over the table and putting Taron’s by his clenched hand.

  “Taron, here’s a blowjob for you.”

  “Thanks, Syn.” He unfurls his fist and gives me a panty-melting, lopsided smile.

  Jackson waves at his glass. “What’s mine?”

  His is different from Taron’s shot of Amaretto, Irish Cream, and Coffee Liquor.

  “Yours is a Duck Fart.” Kahlua, Irish Cream and Crown Royal.

  The table goes silent, then a roar of laughter.

  “Holy fuck, that’s a hoot. I’ll have me a blowjob, Syn.”

  I slide my gaze to the familiar voice. Cooper Wilder. He’s the peanut gallery from practice yesterday. The one who lives next door to Dare. He’s a kicker for the team, as well as my friend Arie’s best friend.

  “One BJ coming up. Anyone else?”

  The guys shout their orders. No surprise, the majority are a go for the BJ, while the rest want to try a Duck Fart.

  I put in their orders and then head over to speak with Cooper.

  “Hey, thanks for mentioning Dare to Jackson.” I pull up a seat next to him.

  “No probs. I thought for sure he’d lay off as soon as he heard Dare’s name, but that guy doesn’t listen for shit. Likes to poach on what’s not his to go after.”