by Hannah Gray
Her features soften slightly. “Look, Cam, I dated a baseball player who graduated last year. He was on the team with Carter, and let me tell you, he is far from the perfect guy either. And I wasn’t saying that you can’t have friends. But just be up-front with Trent. From little things Mason has said, Trent hasn’t had the most picture-perfect life either. Mason worries about him.”
Her words hit me. “Wait, does Mason think I am going to hurt Trent or something?”
Looking down, she picks up her stuff to take to the trash can, and she shrugs. “Mason thinks the world of you. But he just worries that maybe Trent has different expectations than you. That’s all. It’s his best friend, Cam. He just worries. Just like I worry about you.”
I get it. I totally understand why it looks like I’m toying with him, but that isn’t what it is at all. “Look, I have no idea what I am doing. I know it probably isn’t the best time to jump into a relationship.” I motion to my stomach, where my wound is under my sweatshirt. “It’s like I finally get a level head and make the decision to cut ties with him, and then something happens, and it pulls us back together.”
Her face softens, and she tilts her head to the side and gives me a sad smile. “Don’t you think the universe is trying to tell you something?”
I gather up my trash and my messenger bag and stand to head to my next class. Ignoring her question, I say, “I have to go to class. It’s pretty close to yours. Let’s walk together. We can talk about you and Mason.”
She sighs. “Okay. Guess I deserve that.”
I link my arm with hers. “Let’s go. We have approximately eight minutes for all of the juicy details.”
twenty-eight
Trent
After my afternoon practice, I head to The Atlantic to meet Lane. Mason apparently had a prior engagement or some shit. Besides, he’s all lovey with Red, and I need a single friend to hang out with. It’s pretty obvious Cameran isn’t interested in more with me.
We’re a few beers in when Lane gets the idea that we need shots. “Come on, man. Practice tomorrow is at one.”
I almost decline, and then I remember Sunshine is probably laughing at one of that tool Carter’s lame-ass jokes. Or worse, he’s kissing her. I don’t need to think about that. It makes me want to turn every single one of these fucking tables upside down. So, I take the shot. And then another and another.
“I’m fucking wasted.” Lane laughs, punching me in the arm. “And it’s about fucking time you came out and got fucked up with me. It’s been too long.”
I nod and down another shot. I see two women have made themselves comfy next to us.
One leans in closer to me and rubs my biceps. “You’re so strong,” she purrs. “I bet you can do all sorts of things with these muscles.”
I turn toward her. “Wanna find out?”
Shit, what the fuck am I doing? Even in my drunken stupor, I don’t actually want her.
She’s too quick to respond though. She reaches between the counter and my stool and runs her hand over my crotch area.
Leaning into my ear, she whispers, “I can do a lot of things too. I was a gymnast, so I’m very flexible.” Then, she runs her tongue over my earlobe.
I pull away from her, and she pouts.
Lane is putting on all the charm with the girl next to him. Not like he needs to. She seems like she’d go home with him either way. But Lane’s good like that. He at least tries to make girls feel special before he fucks them.
He pushes to his feet. “Ready to head home? I am fucking hammered, so Paige here is going to give us a ride.”
I nod. Clearly, I’m not going to let this chick in my bedroom. If Lane wants to tag-team them both, he can have at it.
The four of us pile in her car and head home. Unfortunately for me, this chick has trouble with keeping her hands to herself. I try to push her away, but she’s not taking no for an answer. Her hand reaches over, and she attempts to push my zipper down. I move her hand away.
I shake my head. “Not interested, babe.”
“That sure isn’t what it sounded like at the bar.” Her lip sticks out in disappointment.
“Well, I changed my mind. I’m sure Lane here would be more than willing to accommodate you.” I pat his shoulder.
“Fucking right he would,” he hollers back.
Both of the girls giggle, and I can tell they are all for it. Good for Lane. Even sitting next to this girl is making my stomach churn.
We pull into the driveway, and the girls continue to giggle and twirl their hair. I grab my gym bag out of my own truck and follow them into the house. Which honestly doesn’t seem like a big deal until we walk in, and big gray-blue eyes are staring at all of us as we parade through the door. I’ll admit, I am pretty drunk. I’m sure Lane is too.
“Hey, Sunshine.”
Cameran’s eyes find mine, and her face turns bright red before she pushes out of her chair and begins to walk past us. She stops halfway and turns toward the girls. She puts on her best poker face. “Careful with this one. I hear he might have herpes.”
Both of the girls’ eyes widen, and the one who drove us over coughs nervously. Before I can even form a sentence, she’s out the door.
I jog after her just as she’s making it to the sidewalk. “Cam, wait up. Damn it, stop.”
She laughs bitterly. “Why, Trent? So you can convince me I am not well enough to stay in my own dorm room, all while you bring other girls to the bed you have been insisting I sleep in?”
I shake my head. “You are fucking impossible.”
She turns and narrows her eyes. “Excuse me?”
I stand my ground. Drunk and all. “You heard me. You go on a ‘coffee’ date.” I put my fingers up and talk in a feminine voice, emphasizing coffee. “But then you assume I am bringing these girls home? Guess what, Sunshine? You’re wrong. Did one flirt with me? Yes. Did I flirt back? Maybe a little bit at first. But Lane is the one bringing them home, not me. I turned her down on the way here.”
She continues to shake her head. “Yeah, sure, Trent. You strut in with Lane and two girls, reeking of booze, and you expect me to believe that? Not that it matters because we aren’t dating. And you’re right. I did go on a coffee date. With a friend.”
Now, it’s me laughing bitterly. “You know what, Cameran? No, we aren’t together. You make damn fucking sure of that every chance you get. I want to help you, Cameran, not because I feel obligated, but because I fucking love you. I am in love with you. But you fight me every step of the way. I’m sorry I made you stay here. I thought it was for the best. Now that you’re feeling better, I’ll help you move your stuff back tonight.”
Her eyes glass over with pain, but it quickly changes to anger. “Fuck you. I don’t need your help.” She pushes past me and heads into the house.
I follow behind her but not to chase her. No, not this time.
I grab another beer and sit on the couch. I hear Red and her talking in hushed voices. I hear Cameran’s voice break as she talks, followed by obvious cries. Soon, Mason’s voice joins in. Luckily, Lane has taken his girls out to the hot tub so that they don’t make this whole situation worse.
Ten minutes later, Mason, Cameran, and Red head outside with all of her stuff. I was mentally preparing myself for Red to rip me a new asshole. The silence is almost worse. A minute later, Mason walks in, and I hear the Jeep speeding away. He grabs a beer and sits next to me.
“Just fucking say it and get it over with, Mason.”
He holds his hands up. “Dude, I’m not saying shit. It’s not my place.”
I take a swig of my beer and nod. “Damn right, it’s not.”
He leans forward. “Do you want to talk about it?”
I drag my hand through my hair. “Fuck, man. I don’t know. She went off on me because of the girls Lane brought home—Lane, not me. And yet she had gone and gotten coffee with that tool Carter today.” I tighten my grip on my hair and grit my teeth. “I hate that motherfucker. I know he
wants to get in her pants.”
He nods and takes a swig off of his beer. “I know that. But if you want to prove to her you care, you can’t just kick her out.”
Shaking my head, I murmur, “She made it crystal clear that she was only staying here because I made her feel like she had to. I’m tired of chasing her, man. You know how big of a deal this season is for me. I need to get drafted. I need to get out from under him. I can’t deal with this back-and-forth shit anymore.”
He nods. “I get it. I really do. But shit, man, she got abused for years, her ex came back and tried to murder her, and now, he’s dead. Oh, and her parents died. That’s a lot. I think … I don’t know … I think she gets a pass on having attachment issues.”
I don’t say anything. I just stare at the TV.
He nods and stands. “I’m turning in, man. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He gets almost to the staircase when I mutter some lame-ass apology, “I’m sorry if I fucked things up for you and Red.”
He laughs quietly. “Pfft. Nah, man, no worries. It was already doomed.” With that, he heads up the stairs before I can ask any more questions.
twenty-nine
Cameran
The next week passes slow and quiet. I see Trent in class. He switched seats and doesn’t even spare a glance in my direction. I started back up at work yesterday, and it’s actually a welcome distraction. I haven’t seen him at the bar or around campus, which leads me to believe that he is likely avoiding me. This weekend, the football team has a home game. Anna has been begging me to go with her.
“Girl, we don’t even have to see them. We will just watch the game and slip out after. Come on. You cannot make me go alone.”
I told her I’d think about it, and I meant it.
Tonight is my second night back at work, and it’s a bit more hectic than most Tuesdays. I inwardly groan when I look up to see who is now seated in my section. Layla, the Dallas Cowboys cheerleader/porn star–looking chick who had Trent’s penis in her mouth hours before his fingers were all up in my lady parts.
Also with her is the girl Lane brought to the house when I was staying there. And three other plastic-looking women. I head over and plaster on my best smile, teeth and all. This is my job after all. I need to try to be professional even though I’d love nothing more than to give this table to anyone else.
“Hello, ladies. What can I get you to drink? Perhaps a margarita or a glass of wine?”
I get a few expected snarls and a whole lot of snootiness in their voices, but once I return with their drinks, I am optimistic they won’t even remember who I am. They all order salad for dinner, hold the dressing. My inner self is rolling her eyes. Salad is bad enough as a meal, but no damn dressing? I release a sigh of relief and thank the heavens that they don’t remember my connection with their beloved Trent Kade.
Small beads of sweat gather on my forehead when I hear Layla’s obnoxious voice.
“Yeah, Trent texted me a bit ago. I guess he’s looking for a repeat of that last time. Although he says, this time, he’ll make it better for me.”
I realize, instead of walking off to put in their order, I turned around and listened when I heard his name. I fed into her trap.
She gives me a satisfied smile and tilts her head. “Oops. You aren’t upset, are you? I didn’t mean for you to hear that.”
I take one step closer. “Oh, but you did. And that’s okay. No, I’m not upset, honey. I have no interest in that loser, please.”
They all look shocked, and one even chokes on her drink. Layla looks like she’s going to blow a blood vessel in her neck. I take that as my cue, giving them my sweetest smile.
“I’ll be back with your entrées real soon, ladies. Enjoy your cocktails,” I drawl.
And then I head to the storage room with the excuse that I need napkins. When really, I need to stop these tears from falling. Layla might think I won and that I don’t care, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. In reality, it makes me feel like my stomach has dropped out of my butt and dragged my heart out with it. I think I might actually be sick. I guess I knew he would move on. I just didn’t think it would be so soon. Or with her.
I’m just finally getting myself together when my pager buzzes on my hip. Alerting me food for table fifteen is up. I take a deep breath and reach for the door. But before I can open it, someone else steps in.
“Carter. Hi. Sorry. I swear I don’t do this often. I just needed a second.”
He gives me a concerned look. “You don’t have to explain, Cam. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I saw you come in a few minutes ago. You looked upset.”
I wave my hand. “Oh, yeah, I am fine, I swear. I just needed a minute. I have food up though, so I’d better go.”
Worry etches his features. “Okay, as long as you’re sure.”
I nod. “Thanks, Carter.”
He winks. But not in a flirty way, more of in a caring type of way. “No problem at all, beautiful. Happy to do it.”
I suffer through the glares and eye rolls from Layla and her bitchy friends. Luckily, my shift is almost over. The sucky part is that I have to wait another two hours for Anna to get out to get a ride home. I’m hoping after a few more months of work, I can save enough to buy a car.
I head over to the bar and take a seat.
Anna comes over. “Coke or beer?”
“Coke, please.”
She gives me a cheesy thumbs-up, but then her eyes move to something behind me. She tips her head down toward mine. “Okay, so heads-up, Trent and some of the football team just walked in.”
I slink down on my stool. “Great. I had that skank Layla earlier; she was saying they were meeting up tonight.”
Her face shows no shock or emotion. She leans forward on her elbows. “I don’t know, Cam. Mase says he’s been pretty upset lately. He’s been a major asshole at practices. He’s getting after anyone for any mistake they make. Big or small.”
I just want the one friend I have to take my side. Not to take the school’s biggest player. “Come on, Anna. A guy like him isn’t going to be celibate. Grouchy or not, I wouldn’t put it past him to meet up with her. Word around campus is, they’ve hooked up multiple times. She’s apparently one of his exceptions to sleep with more than once.”
She doesn’t answer. She just shakes her head and shrugs. She wants to see the best in him, and that’s good for her. But I have given up on that. Luckily, they take a seat at the end of the bar. But given the U-shape of the bar, that just means we can look at each other. I make damn sure to avoid looking in that direction at all. Okay, I try … until I see Layla’s jet-black hair swaying across the floor to him. She sits down on the stool next to his and leans closer to whisper in his ear. I can’t watch any more.
I’m just about to get up when I hear Carter’s voice.
“Hey, I am headed out for the night if you need a ride home.”
I look at him, confused. “You don’t have to close down tonight?”
He shakes his head. “Nope. Tyler is here. He’s the other manager. I just came in to take care of some of the payroll stuff and do inventory.”
I nod. “If you don’t mind, that would be awesome.”
He gives me a reassuring smile. “It’s no problem at all.”
I chance one more look in Trent’s direction to see Skankface is still next to him. His eyes though are fixed on me. I hold our eye contact, a small evil smile playing on my lips.
“All right, let’s go.” I stand and follow Carter out the door, never looking back at the man whose eyes I can feel burning holes in my back.
Trent
Red. I am seeing red. And I don’t mean the red-haired bartender that my best friend wants to bone. I’m talking about the kind of anger you get when your breathing sounds like a goddamn caveman, your jaw twitches, and you want to fuck someone up and don’t give a fuck about the consequences.
She looked right at me and then left with that douche bag, all whi
le giving me a smirk. A fucking smirk. All right, I guess I can’t really blame her when she looked over and saw this fucking cling-on perched up next to me.
I have told Layla I’m not interested half a dozen times, but she isn’t having it. She keeps whispering in my ear, every detail of how I could fuck her. Among other things. As if she doesn’t think I already know. We’ve fucked four or five times. Been there, done that. I won’t say I haven’t entertained the idea of taking Layla back and fucking her until I get the memory of Sunshine walking out with fucking Carter out of my brain. But it won’t work. Instead, I pour shot after shot down my throat until I no longer feel the initial burn when I tip it back and the liquid goes down, numbing me a little more each time.
Layla is still sitting next to me. Way too close. Her presence makes my skin crawl. Her perfume is too strong, and her lips are too glossy. It’s all just a big fucking turn-off now that I have had a little taste of Cameran.
I never get blackout drunk during football season. Especially on a fucking weeknight. Yet here I am, twice in one week. Wouldn’t my mother be proud? Well, she left me. Maybe if she were still here, I wouldn’t be this big of a fuckup.
Soon, Red yells last call. I’m too fucked up to even raise my hand for another. I see a glass of water being shoved in front of me by Red, who’s leaning on her elbows, giving me a look of concern. I try to tell her I want another shot, but it’s slurred into one big, inaudible sling of words.
“Drink. The. Damn. Water. Trent.” She narrows her eyes. “You need it. You’re lucky Tawney was on this side. I would never have kept serving your ass. You guys have practice tomorrow morning. Mason switched to water hours ago.”
Unable to control myself, I slur, “Pussy.”
With my douche-bag word, her fiery personality comes out. “Right. A few months ago, you wouldn’t have thought that. You also would have never egged them on to be getting hammered on a fucking weeknight. Look around, Trent. Seventy-five percent of the football team is here, and half of them are hammered. Stellar team captain skills.” She steps back and salutes me.