by Linda Kage
Thank God.
Five hours later, my jaw dropped and I whispered, “What the fuck?” as Colton stepped inside the Forbidden Nightclub.
Behind the bar where I’d been in the middle of mixing a Tom Collins, I immediately dropped down onto my haunches so I could hide behind the counter. But I realized what a cowardly idiot I must look like right about the time Bob, my coworker, arched me a questioning glance.
“I…I spilled some, er, ice,” I fumbled out lamely, my face heating with shame.
What the hell was I doing? I couldn’t hide down here. Besides, I was a bold, confident woman—or, you know, at least that was the goal—I could fucking face the guy I had totally wronged.
Pushing to my feet, I brushed my bangs out of my eyes, straightened my shoulders and cleared my throat before daring to move my gaze his way. But as soon as I took him in, everything inside me started clanging wildly out of control. As nervous as I was about his reaction to last night’s…uh, events between us, I couldn’t seem to stop the memories from tumbling through my brain. They heated my insides and made me feel flushed and breathless.
He approached the bar with a lazy kind of grace, and my stomach flipped madly while my toes began to curl. He walked with the same slow, talented swagger as he had when he’d backed me up onto the table and slid his hand inside my dress.
“Hey, Colton,” Bob greeted him with a head nod. “Awesome wedding last night.”
I swerved my coworker a startled glance. I hadn’t known Bob had been there. His name card had been at my table, yet I hadn’t even spotted him.
Nice of him to leave me stranded by myself at our table.
Asshole.
“Yep,” Colton answered, his voice sending this buzz of complete awareness through me. Compelled to turn back his way, I watched him point toward the opening of the hall that led into the back. “Pick around tonight?”
“Sure is,” Bob answered. “Go on back.”
“Thanks,” Colton murmured and headed that way.
We all knew Brandt and his family were in tight with the club’s big bossman, so it wasn’t surprising at all that Colton would want to see Pick. But as soon as he disappeared out of sight, one glaring fact struck me like a stinging slap right across the face.
He had completely ignored me.
Colton Gamble had never once in the nine months we’d known each other ignored me. He’d always taken the time to pay me special attention, flash me a flirty grin, try to charm some piece of clothing off me, ask me out, name our future children. And I’d always shrugged him off as annoying, too cocky for his own good, and over-the-top ridiculous.
But to be denied his attention so abruptly made the lack of it feel very dark, and very cold, and utterly lonely.
Hell, I would’ve preferred it if he’d glared at me and called me a worthless bitch to my face. Anything had to be better than a direct cut because this freaking hurt. I felt hollowed out and empty, which made another startling fact occur to me.
I could no longer deny it; I had secretly liked his cheesy flirting the entire time. And I mean liked it, liked it.
I think I might’ve even liked him.
Here I’d always thought it was anger and annoyance and distaste that roiled through me whenever I’d been forced to talk to Brandt’s little brother. But maybe that super-alive feeling he roused in me that made me want to claw at his face before climbing his body, pulling his hair and forcing him to kiss me was some kind of fucked-up foreplay I was experiencing.
One thing was for sure: I’d never been able to focus on anyone but him when he’d been around.
Realizing I was attracted to him—and had always been attracted to him—in a super intense way kind of intimidated me. I didn’t want to like Colton like that. He wasn’t easy like Brandt. There was nothing calm or secure or careful about the way he affected me.
And those were not the kinds of feelings I’d constructed my entire life around.
So it should be a good thing he no longer wanted anything to do with me.
Except when the door to Pick’s office opened down the hall and voices emerged, I didn’t care about any of that. I held my breath, anxious to see him enter the bar again, needing him to acknowledge me.
“Thanks again,” Colton was saying, his voice sending delicious chills down my back.
“No problem,” Pick answered him. “Like I said, as long as it’s after hours and you put everything back where you found it, you can have free reign over the place.”
They exited the hall together, Pick setting his hand on Colton’s shoulder in a fatherly manner.
Colton glanced at him with a grateful smile. “We can do that, no problem. And we’ll make sure to get the Forbidden logo in every scene, too.”
“I appreciate it.” Pick patted Colton’s shoulder before dropping his hand. “See you around, kid.”
“Later.” Colton waved a hand over his shoulder and kept walking toward the door as Pick stopped to watch him go.
I watched him too.
I’d cried myself to sleep last night after I’d gotten home from the wedding, leaving straight from the conference room where Colton and I had made out. I’d thought I had bawled enough to last me a year or two. But as Colton strolled toward the exit without even once glancing my way, the urge to weep mounted with a force that cramped my stomach and dried my throat. I tried to swallow down the pain, but it just got stuck in all the dry rawness, and my eyes began to water.
“You okay, Julianna?”
I jumped and slapped my hand to my chest as I spun toward my boss, who was now standing at the bar, one hand on the countertop, as he eyed me with worry.
“What?” I gasped, then shook my head, offered him an apologetic smile and repeated, “I’m sorry, what?”
He studied me a second longer, his gaze reminding me of the way Colton could see right into my head and read everything I was thinking. Then he glanced toward the exit where Colton had just disappeared and swung his gaze back to me. “Just making sure you’re doing okay?”
I bobbed my head up and down, swallowing the dread and hoping he didn’t catch on that anything had happened between Colton and me. “Yes,” I nearly gasped. “I’m fine. Just fine.”
He lifted his hand and gave me a thumbs-up. “Cool. I was just checking in, making sure everything’s going okay here tonight?”
Oh.
Damn, I thought he’d been asking about me personally. Now I felt as if I’d just given something away by answering about myself. Did he think I’d given anything away?
I glanced toward Bob, but he was busy making a drink for a customer, so I swung my attention back to Pick. “Yep. It’s all good. Kind of slow, but…” I shrugged. “That’s a typical Sunday for you.”
He nodded, agreeing, but continued to watch me, making me squirm inside. “Did you make it to the wedding last night?”
I opened my mouth, but no words came. Realizing both he and Bob hadn’t seen me there, I blurted, “No, I didn’t,” wondering the entire time why I was lying to my boss. There was no reason to lie, and yet I kept going. “I bet it was nice, though.”
Again, his head moved up and down with a polite nod. “Yes, it was. You missed seeing my kiddos trying the chicken dance at the reception.”
I froze, gaping at him while he continued to stare at me as if he wasn’t searching for information at all.
But maybe he was. Maybe he was trying to tell me he’d seen me dance with Colton. Had he seen us sitting at the table after that, talking and drinking? Had he seen us leave together? I had no freaking clue. Pick Ryan was one of the hardest people on the planet to read.
So I just said, “I bet they were adorable,” all the while hoping he’d stop fishing for more information if that was what he was even doing.
He smiled. “They were. It’s always fun to watch the young ones dance.” Then he knocked his knuckles against the countertop and pointed toward me. “Let me know if you need anything. I’ll probably hang around for
another hour or so before I head home.” And he started back toward his office without another word.
I stared after him, pressing a hand to my stomach and wondering what the heck had just happened. Had that been his way of telling me what he suspected about Colton and me? Or was he just making idle chatter? Maybe he’d been so busy watching his children he hadn’t seen me on the dance floor with Colton and Colton’s nephew. But something told me he knew.
My heart raced and stomach churned as I returned my attention to work. I felt guiltier and worse than ever for what I’d done to Colton.
I couldn’t believe he’d completely ignored me, and yet I really could. It was what I deserved. But that didn’t make me feel any better. One thing was brutally clear, though. This was going to be one very long semester before I could escape Ellamore, Illinois.
And it hadn’t even started yet.
JULIANNA’S CHAPTER | 8
A week and a half later on a Wednesday, the first day of my last semester of college began, and it did not start well. Both Sasha’s and Tyla’s boyfriends had stayed the night, meaning that left one bathroom to share between the five of us this morning, and who do you think got last dibs on it? Yep. This girl.
Then, those bastards had finished off all the coffee by the time I had showered and dressed and was ready for the day. There was no time to make another batch or even to stop by a Starbucks on the way to campus. I rolled into my first class nearly ten minutes late as it was. What was worse, I forgot my pen and my laptop, so I had no way to take notes. I sat there all hour, stewing and frustrated, wishing I had my shit together.
That other stupid person must’ve invaded my body again and fucked me all up because this was not me. I was never late, I never forgot my things, and I never let myself get distracted in class.
But I couldn’t concentrate on a single word the professor said. The fact that Colton had to be somewhere on campus right now kept pestering me. What if I passed him on the lawn or ran into him in the cafeteria?
Would he still ignore me?
He was a freshman now; this would be his second semester. I wondered what his field of study was and how he paid attention in class. I couldn’t picture him as the type who diligently took notes all hour. So not his style. No, he was the slacker in the back who sat slouched in his seat with his feet propped up on the chair in front of his as he doodled the entire time, or slept…take your pick.
I knew he’d been the salutatorian of his high school class, so he had to be pretty damn smart, but the idea of him being a model student didn’t even seem possible.
And why was I sitting here pondering what kind of fucking student Colton Gamble was?
I definitely had issues.
Steeling my resolve, I refocused my energies on the professor and was able to listen and soak in a couple sentences before I began to wonder if Colton had met some other girl since the wedding. He hadn’t come back to the bar in the eight days since he’d last ignored me.
Eight days. A guy like him—cocky, suave, and too gorgeous for his own good—he could’ve landed a couple women in that time.
It made me feel suddenly very nauseous.
By the time we were let out of class five minutes early, I was a sweaty, worried mess. Deciding lack of coffee had demented my brain, I stopped by the campus coffee shop on the way to my second class of the day. The line was short, thank goodness, so I had a steaming cup in my hand within minutes.
Sipping and reenergized, I started toward the history building where I had a Philosophy 101 class. It was a general ed credit I should’ve taken my freshman year. But I’d kept pushing it off. If I could’ve gotten out of it completely, I would have, except my advisor had finally noticed I needed to take something and said I couldn’t graduate until I did, so…here I was.
Since it had such a large enrollment, it was held in the history building’s lecture hall where the seats went up a step the further back they went. Just as I entered the domed room, I felt my phone buzz from my bag. I slipped it from the front pocket of my backpack only to find a group message from Tyla, sent to me and Sasha.
Along with her message, she’d attached a picture of a guy she’d dated her sophomore year. He was asleep, obviously in class, slumped over his desk with his face mashed to his textbook. And someone—I’m guessing Tyla—had stuck a sign to his forehead that read, I have crabs.
It was so Tyla that I laughed and turned to head up the steps without really watching where I was going, navigating completely from the corner of my eye.
But then suddenly, someone was right there, also trying to go up the steps to find a seat. I skidded to a stop to avoid running into her…or him.
“Shit, sorry.” I looked up, cringing as I apologized. “I didn’t see—” The words died on my tongue when I looked up into his face. “Oh, God.”
Colton’s smile was tight and his eyes narrowed. “Hey,” he greeted, bobbing his chin. “Long time no making out.” Slipping sideways so I could pass, he splayed out a hand, telling me to go ahead. “Ladies first.”
But I couldn’t move. I gaped at him another second before shaking my head. “Wha-wha-what are you doing here?”
His jaw shifted impatiently. Lifting his gaze above my head, he answered, “Attending class. Same as you, I’m guessing.”
I glanced around the room. Yes, it was a freshman class, and yes, I’d put off taking it until my last semester but, no...no way could it be the same freshman class this freshman was taking. Realizing it was—we honest-to-God shared a class together—I whipped my gaze back to his stony face.
“No,” I uttered. “No, no, no. This can’t happen.”
His glare shot fire before he bit out, “Glad you approve. Now, do you need to get by to find a seat or not? I’d prefer not to stand here all day waiting for you to pass.”
My mouth fell open. “I…I’m sorry,” I mumbled, all the while wondering why I was apologizing to him when he was the one being the asshole. It was just so bizarre to see him this way.
The only Colton I’d ever known was smiling, charming, happy Colton. I didn’t like nasty, bitchy, frowning Colton. But the reason nasty Colton was even a thing was because I’d made him that way, which sucked. I so totally sucked. I’d ruined a perfectly good hot boy.
People had been beaten to death for less.
I nodded mutely and hurried up the steps until I found a spot. As I slid into the first available end chair, Colton brushed past to find something further back. I glanced up at him over my shoulder as he slumped deep into a seat and immediately propped his feet on the chair in front of him.
I couldn’t even feel smug that I’d guessed him correctly—he was a total slouch sitter—it was too surreal to learn I shared a class with him.
And too painful to witness how much he hated me now.
He ignored me completely as I stole another second to stare at him, the curl of attraction mixing bitterly with my regret. I turned back to my desk, but I swore I could feel his heated stare burning the back of my neck.
It didn’t dissipate when class started either. No, it caused me to suffer through yet another hour of paying no attention to my lecture.
As soon as the professor released us, I raced out of there before Colton and I could collide on the stairs again. I had just pushed my way out of the building when it struck me I was running scared. I was not the type of person who ran away from problems.
Just what the hell was Colton Gamble turning me into?
Pissed at myself, tired of acting like someone else, and ready to just be done with all this guilt and crappiness, I muttered to myself as I turned right back around and stormed into the history building. How dare he do this to me?
Okay, fine, I was doing it to myself. But it made me feel better to blame him, so yeah, damn Colton. He was not going to get away with ignoring me or being cold and indifferent. That was my role! We were not allowed to switch places.
Since over a hundred other people were trying to exit the building whi
le I was darting back inside, it took me a while to work against the flow of traffic and make my way toward the lecture hall. I scanned faces and popped up onto my tippy toes, even though I was already wearing some decent-sized heels to spot him in case we passed each other. But he hadn’t passed this way yet, so that meant he’d either gone to another classroom in the building, hadn’t left the lecture hall yet, or crap…maybe he’d gone out a different exit.
Hoping it wasn’t the last option, I turned a corner, only to skid to a halt when I spotted him waylaid by a petite little brunette in the shortest skirt and skimpiest top. She stood close enough to him, doing all the talking and motioning with her hands, that he had to crane his face down to even meet her gaze. But he nodded, letting her know he was listening.
Their conversation looked intimate.
Something vile and painful passed through my stomach. An unnatural chill rushed up my arms and I either wanted to scream and charge, pulling her hair, or scream and run away crying and pulling my own hair. The two urges were so swift and strong they caused me to press a hand to my chest and suck in a hard breath.
I didn’t like this. I didn’t like how seeing them together made me feel, what it made me want to do. What’s worse, there was no reason for it. I was being utterly absurd. Unnerved by how I was feeling, I whirled away just as Colton lifted his face and turned his attention to me.
He had to have seen me, but hopefully he wouldn’t know I’d been trying to hunt him down and…I don’t even know what I would’ve said to him if I’d gotten hold of him: that I wanted to go back to being the way we were before we’d made out, where he flirted and smiled, and I acted like I didn’t like him?
Yeah, I couldn’t tell him that.
I was hustling down the hall as fast as my heels could carry me when I heard a call. “Hey!” It sounded like Colton, so I didn’t stop or even glance back. I might’ve even hurried my pace a bit, until the voice added, “Radcliffe.”