It's not until the sky begins to turn orange that we realize we've spent the entire night together.
"I guess it's time to call it a night," Ally says, her lips red and a little puffy, her eyes glossy and tired. She pulls out her phone to check her messages and shakes her head. "Crap."
I furrow my brows. Ally turns the screen to show me five missed calls from her mom and a handful of texts from Brody.
"Shit." One stolen night and this is what she gets? "What are you going to tell them?" I ask.
Ally looks taken aback. "Oh. I guess… I didn't think about that. I'll just tell them I fell asleep at the library studying."
I raise an eyebrow. "And you think they'll buy that?"
She rolls her eyes. "I'm not the kind of cheerleader who skimps on classes. Only on clothes." She winks.
"As it should be," I smirk. I pull her into another quick kiss on the lips.
"Sinclair?"
"Yeah?"
Ally bites her bottom lip. "When are we going to tell them?"
"I don't know yet," I say. She frowns. "We will. Don't worry. But… not yet. It doesn't feel right yet."
She nods reluctantly, then smiles up at me. "Okay. See you around," she says, before heading back home. I watch her go until she's rounded the corner, but her question still rings through my head, and it fills me with anxiety.
Will I ever be ready to tell Brody and her parents about us?
Chapter Six
Ally
I see Sinclair every day in the locker room hallway between basketball practice and cheer practice. We sneak out to grab lunch on the days when Brody is in class then. He steals kisses from me in the kitchen when he comes over for family dinner nights, and he even squeezes my butt when Brody isn't looking while the three of us are hanging out together.
We continue on as if everything is normal, but with secret declarations of love when no one is looking. It's exciting, and every time we see each other, I fall deeper and deeper in love with Sinclair. He's incredibly easy to talk to, and he's starting to open up to me, which I hadn't realized was possible. I mean, we've already grown up together. I practically know everything about him, or so I thought. But Sinclair tells me about all the stuff I never thought to ask about when growing up, like why his parents were never around and how he could spend so much time with us in the first place.
It turns out his parents were drug addicts that basically never existed to him in the first place. Things got really bad, and eventually, his grandparents became his caretakers. But at that point, he'd been spending all his free time with us (after school, at practice, slumber parties) so much so that his grandparents were basically just there to take care of all the uber-important official guardian stuff. He's always been on his own, and I admire his strength. But he assures me he wasn't really alone, because he had the Douglas family.
Knowing all of that now, it starts to make sense to me why Sinclair is so hesitant with telling Brody and my parents about us. We really are like family to him, and I suppose it would be scary to risk it all for one girl. But Sinclair never treats me like some girl. He treats me like his girl, even if he isn't ready to tell everyone about me yet. In a way, it makes us being together even more exciting.
But as the weeks go by and it becomes apparent how perfect we are for each other, I start to forget why we're hiding in the first place. I want to take things further, but Sinclair refuses. He says he doesn't want to confuse lust for love. Though it's somewhat disappointing, I think that's really sweet. Especially since he tries to make up for it by focusing all his efforts on making me feel good.
And boy, does he. I've never felt more loved by a man before. Physically or emotionally. Sinclair treats me like a queen, and I can't imagine being with anyone else. But I don't know how much longer I can wait for him to be ready. I mean, part of me knows I want to be with him forever, so it shouldn't matter, but the fact still remains that we're running around in secret. I want us to be known. I want everyone to know Sinclair is mine.
* * *
The bass is pumping, the lights are flashing, and there are sweaty bodies everywhere. It's Fiji's pre-Spring Break party, and everyone is crammed into their frat house dance floor, including Sinclair and Brody. I'm wearing my party dress- a shimmery sheer little thang that accentuates my curves perfectly. Sinclair loves it, I can tell by how his eyes are glued to my every move (he's practically salivating, and it pleases me very much), but he hasn't touched me once tonight. Now that Sinclair and I have been secretly dating, it makes Brody's presence feel like the elephant in the room, an unwanted third wheel forcing us to keep our distance.
Every time I try to press up against Sinclair, he wriggles away with a quick glance at his best friend.
It's really starting to piss me off.
I give Sinclair a glare that telepathically says, Dance with me, but Sinclair shakes his head once. He nods toward Brody, who's totally letting some chick grind against him, and I roll my eyes. You really think he'd care? I ask with my eyebrows. Sinclair presses his lips together stubbornly. I grit my teeth and shoot daggers at him. Fine, my eyeballs say.
I turn on my heel, grab the nearest muscly dude, and let him get handsy. I can feel Sinclair's eyes on my back as this nameless dude feels me up. I close my eyes and imagine it's Sinclair doing the touching. Though, if it was him, he'd be much more loving and less grope-y, but that's beside the point.
This is about making Sinclair jealous.
I glance over to find him clenching his jaw tight and his fists at his sides. His eyes say he wants to kill this guy, and I smirk because it's totally working. I let the nameless dude think I'm into him until Sinclair can't take it anymore, but he doesn't do a damn thing. I'm surprised Brody doesn't either, for that matter, but he isn't dancing next to Sinclair anymore, and at this point, I don't care who's throat he has his tongue down. It's Sinclair that I want hot and bothered.
Unfortunately, the nameless dude is the one I've got primed and ready to kiss me. He whispers in my ear, "let's go someplace quieter," and the smell of alcohol burns my nose. I try not to gag and reluctantly agree. I have no plans to kiss him, but I want Sinclair to think I do. So I let the guy lead me through the dance floor to a quieter area on the opposite side of the house. It's still too loud for a casual conversation, but my heart isn't beating irregularly from the pumping bass anymore, and I welcome the unexpected relief.
"That's better," the dude says. He tries to plant a slobbery one on my face, but I turn my cheek away just in time. Uck.
"Actually, I need a drink," I say. "Care to grab me a water?"
The guy puts his hands on the wall beside my head and leans way into my personal bubble. "Not yet, sweetheart. I want to taste you first." He leans down to kiss my neck, but before I can get the satisfaction of kicking him in the crotch, someone punches him square in the jaw.
He spins once and falls to the floor, out cold.
"Really?" Sinclair asks, massaging his knuckles. "That guy?"
I step right up to him, careful not to fall prey to his supple lips just waiting for me to kiss them. "I wanted to dance with someone who isn't afraid to show everyone how he feels about me."
Sinclair sighs. "You don't need to make me jealous, Ally. I want you more than anything."
"Oh yeah? Prove it." I stare him down, and he stares back at me, the simmering heat between us palpable.
Sinclair pulls me to him in one aggressive motion and presses his lips against me firmly. I'm immediately breathless. He lets his hands find my ass, and he squeezes me tightly. I burst into flames, ready for him to sex me up right here on this disgusting frat house floor. I push myself against him as hard as I can, trying to feel as much of his body as possible through my dress's thin layers. It isn't enough. It's never enough. I want all of him, and I want him right now.
I pull away from him and stare up into his brown eyes, breathless and desperate for more of him. He returns my look with a hunger of his own.
"Let's get out
of here," I whisper.
"Yes, lets."
He takes my hand and turns to lead us back through the dance floor but stops dead in his tracks.
"What the fuck?"
Brody's angry voice cuts through the noise like a missile cutting through water. He locks eyes on Sinclair and me standing together, and before either one of us can explain the situation, Brody throws a nasty uppercut and knocks Sinclair out. He goes down to the floor right next to the nameless dude from earlier, and my heart breaks.
Chapter Seven
Sinclair
I wake up to an intense pounding in my jaw that echoes throughout my entire body. What just happened?
Looking around, I see a crowd of sweaty college kids staring at me. Then I hear a groan from my side, and I remember about the handsy dude chilling on the floor next to me.
It all comes back in one wave of sickening emotions. I stand up slowly, trying to deduce the best way to move forward with the situation. Brody knows about us, which is a relief, right? He already punched me so it's out of his system. This is good.
But my stomach twists into a knot because I know Brody. He's the king of grudges. This is so not good.
* * *
The next day we have a big game to play against our rivals, but I could care less about winning. I just want to talk to Ally. I texted her after what went down last night, but she didn't respond until this morning. All she said was, we need to talk. Those four words ring through my head all day and all through our evening game. Brody doesn't pass the ball to me once, he doesn't even look at me, but it doesn’t matter. I put my all into the game as a way of distracting myself from everything else, and we somehow manage to win. But it sure as hell doesn't feel like it.
Whatever. There are more important things to worry about.
The moment the buzzer sounds, I race to the grassy quad to meet Ally. Her entire being lights up when she sees me, and before I reach her, she rushes over and jumps into my arms.
"Hey," I say.
"Hey," she says, muffled against my chest. We stand like that for a few more moments before Ally finally tells me what's up.
"So… Brody won't talk to me. He's pissed, as we expected, and he made such a big show of being upset when we got home last night that my parents hounded me with questions until I finally gave in." She rests her forehead against my chest. "Mom was incredibly understanding, telling me Brody will come around to it and everything. She didn't seem upset about us at all. Which is good. But dad stayed quiet, and when I was done explaining, he left the room. He didn't even want to get involved."
I nod my head. "I suppose that checks out." Ally groans, looking up at me.
"We should be happy now, right? I mean, everyone knows about us, and that's what I wanted all along..." She shakes her head.
"But it doesn't feel right," I say, and she nods like I finished her thought for her.
Tears well in her eyes then. "This doesn't mean we're over, does it? I feel like I just got you."
I pull her into a tight hug and kiss the top of her head. "Hell no." She lets out a deep sigh and relaxes her muscles against me. "But…"
Ally pulls back and looks up at me then. "I know what you're going to say." She rolls her eyes. "Brody."
"Yeah." I chuckle. Ally groans.
"He's such a turd! Acting so immature about the whole thing. I hate that we're even thinking about him right now."
"True, but he's sort of the third part of our trio." She lets out an angry huff. "I think he'll come around to us."
Ally shakes her head. "No, he won't. I know him. He's stubborn as hell."
I look up at the sky for a moment, an idea forming in my head. "Maybe he just needs proof. That this isn't just something that will blow over."
"Pfft," Ally waves her hand dismissively. "Well then, he's gonna be miserable for a long time because I want to be with you fore—" she stops. "For a long time," she says. Her cheeks flush pink, and I don't have to ask her to know what she was going to say.
I feel the same way. A fuzzy feeling takes over my limbs as I realize that I want her forever. There's no one else for me, and there never has been.
I pull her into a soft kiss. She's tentative this time like maybe something has changed between us. And in a way, something has.
"I love you, Ally. I would do anything for you." Tears silently fall down her cheeks.
"I love you, too, Sinclair."
Chapter Eight
Ally
Wingman's is probably my favorite sports bar-restaurant. My family has been coming here since we were little, mostly because the menu is enormous, and there are a hundred germ-riddled games in this place. It's like Houligan's mixed with a Dave n' Busters, and it feels like home.
Except when Sinclair isn't here.
He and I decided to continue seeing each other as if everything about us dating is normal. It's our attempt to give Brody and my parents time to adjust. We go on dates and kiss in public and meet for lunch when we can, but Sinclair still doesn't come to our family dinners. Tonight, our parents wanted to get out of the house with just Brody and me for some "quality time." It seems they've grown accustomed to seeing Sinclair and me together. It's the new norm to everyone but Brody. He won't speak to either of us, though at least he's started actually passing to him again on the court. At this point, it's been two weeks, and I'm sick of his bullshit.
I shoot Brody an annoyed look from across the table. He actually catches my eye this time, but he shoots me a glare right back. Before I can say something sassy, he announces that he's going to the restroom and gets up from the table.
"I'm gonna wash my hands, too," I say and follow after him.
I jog to beat him there and block him at the hallway entrance, lined with stuffed animal games and pinball machines. Brody squares his jaw but doesn't say anything.
"Is this how it's going to be between us from now on?" I ask.
He rolls his eyes. "Move out of my way," he says, but I don't.
"No, you need to grow up, Brody. I'm dating Sinclair, and that's just what it is. I don't get why you have to be such a jerk about it. It's not even that big of a deal."
"Are you kidding me? Not a big deal?" he scoffs. "You're screwing my best friend," he says, making a face like it physically makes him ill thinking about us together.
I roll my eyes. "For your information, we have not slept together. And you want to know why?" He shakes his head like he doesn't want to hear any more of this, but I press on. "It's because, even though you're acting like the most spoiled brat, Sinclair loves you. Sometimes I think he loves you more than he loves me. He was the one who was afraid to tell you about us in the first place, not because we both knew you'd thrash out like the angry old man you are, but because he didn't want to lose you. You're his best friend, Brody. You of all people should be happy for us."
Brody silently stares at the floor. I wait patiently for him to respond, and when he doesn't, I let out a huff. "Unbelievable," I mutter before storming off.
"Wait," he calls after me.
I turn around. Brody's lips are pressed tightly together, but his eyes don't look so harsh. "I'm sorry." He sighs and takes a step closer to me. "I guess a part of me always knew this was coming, but I tried to ignore it."
I narrow my eyes. "What are you talking about?"
"You and Sinclair. Growing up, I've always sensed something between you two, and I've been afraid for the day when something came of it."
"Wait… why?" I shake my head, still in shock.
Brody shrugs. "I don't want to lose you both."
"Lose us both? The three of us are always together anyway, I don't see how anything would change between us."
He shakes his head. "We don't know that—we don't know what will happen. You could break up, and then everything would be ruined."
"No offense, Brody, but you're the one ruining everything with your overprotectiveness."
"It's my job, I'm your brother," he says sharply.
I nod slowly, "I know. And I love that you protect me. But do you really think you need to protect me from Sinclair? He's one of us. If anything, it's got to be a relief to have your best friend looking out for me, too, right?" He thinks about it for a moment, then nods. "Plus, I don't think you need to worry about a breakup ruining everything."
"What makes you say that?" My brother narrows his eyes suspiciously. I think about Sinclair and me then, how it feels perfect being with him, and there's no doubt in my mind that we're meant for each other. Warmth spreads through my body when I picture us together, and something in me just knows we'll be together forever. How do I even begin to describe that to Brody? How do I make him see that everything will work out if he'd only let it?
"Damn, you really are into him," he says, and even I note the complete change in my stature. I'm no longer hunching hostilely toward him, and there's a smile on my face I hadn't realized spread there.
"I love him, Brody. I have for a long time."
It grows quiet between us then, pinball machine sounds filling the air. "Shit," Brody finally says. He looks at me then with moist eyes, and all the weight inside me vanishes. Brody sees it. He finally understands that this is real. I get teary-eyed, too.
"Don't get all sappy on me," Brody says.
I pull him into a huge hug. "You started it." He laughs and finally gives in. God, this feels good. My brother is back. And he doesn't hate me. Wait.
"You don't hate me, do you?" I ask.
He chuckles. "I could never hate you, Ally." I let out a relieved sigh and hug him tighter.
We retreat to the table, and when we sit down, Brody and I share a smile. Mom and dad notice this and share a surprised look of their own. Things aren't where they should be just yet, but a big part of me knows that everything will be alright soon.
Tempt University: Year One: A College Romance Collection Page 18