Redemption (Cambria University #2)

by Sadie T. Williams

  “Yeah, why?” I play it off and grab a bottle of Jack from the counter.

  “Well, you did have a chick you really like walk in on you fucking a chick you basically can’t stand. I’m just trying to make sense of it,” he says. “Plus, you’re about to funnel an entire bottle of Jack.”

  “That was fucking insane.” Rhodes shakes his head as he pours himself a beer and a shot.

  “Glad you assholes enjoyed the show,” I snap and take a pull from the bottle.

  “I just don’t understand,” Bateman continues. “Why would you do that if you know you’re in love with her?”

  “Whoever said I’m in love with her?” I snarl at him. He’s asking for my fist in his face because he’s right, and I don’t want to admit that out loud. Not now. Not when I need to black out and forget her.

  “You didn’t have to say it, bro. When she slept over and you didn’t fuck her, I knew. You lost that bet on purpose,” he replies. “We’ve known each other for four years, asshole. I think I know you by now.”

  “Yup, you paid Finn a hundred and sixty k to get out of a bet early because your conscience couldn’t let you hurt her,” Rhodes says in agreement with Bateman.

  “You guys are dickheads,” I murmur, but they’re still right and I still don’t want to acknowledge it. “But it won’t matter now will it?” I take a longer pull from the bottle than before. The burning in my throat feels good. Thank you, Jack Daniels, for making delicious whiskey that will fuck me up.

  “You could apologize, you know. Just tell her about the bet and maybe she’ll forgive you if you come clean. Maybe you can move on together,” Bateman advises.

  “Yeah, and turn into a whiny bitch like you had to with Blaire?” I’m not above making that comment. I’m enough of a prick to rub it in his face to deflect from my situation even though Bateman is my boy and he’s offering solid advice at this point.

  “That’s a low blow man, and I going to ignore it because I know you’re fucking hurting. I can see it. And yes. Just like I had to do with Blaire,” Bateman continues. Bateman fucked a random chick in the bathroom at a Pi Kappa party and when he left the bathroom Blaire was waiting in line to pee. He took her back into the bathroom and fucked her too. They somehow started dating after that, but she was livid when she found out what happened after the fact. Bateman spent months groveling to get her back. Am I willing to do that for Maisy? Fuck yes I am, but Bateman didn’t make Blaire the subject of a bet. So besides the fucking another girl part, I have to make up for that little mistake too.

  “Can we just get drunk and stop with all the unsolicited advice. You fuckers are ruining my buzz.” Deflect. Deflect. Deflect.

  “Sure, bro, just ignore it all. That always works. You need to man up and you know it. Just do it before it’s too late,” Rhodes says. Motherfucker knows me too well. I don’t put myself out there, but I did with Maisy and that meant something to me.

  Rhodes will try again to talk this over again, I know he will, because he’s my best friend. He’s just smart enough to know tonight is not the night. He said what he wanted to and he will drop it for now.

  Maybe if I tell her the truth, I can save whatever it was we had. Bateman could be right. Fuck, I miss what we had. I miss her. I can man up and do it. I can, I can, I can. I give myself a mental pep talk. Nope, not here. Not in front of all these people. Not like this.

  The internal battle wages on, and I’m getting really fucking sick of fighting with myself.

  “I’m gonna find Blaire,” Bateman says. “You need something, bro, you come get me. I know you’re hurting and I know what that feels like. It’s a shot straight to the nuts and the heart. Double whammy.” He does a one, two punch with each hand, pats me on the shoulder and walks off.

  “Do what you need to do tonight for yourself, drink till you vomit, but soon, bro, it needs to be about Maisy. Put yourself in her shoes.”

  “She wears heels, no thanks,” I half-ass joke.

  “Not funny and not the time. If you saw Logan balls deep in her, you would have ripped his dick off and shoved it down his throat,” Rhodes says. I nod. That’s accurate. “Imagine what she felt like when she was just with you, tutoring you and sharing intimate moments with you, then walks in on Syd fucking you and screaming your name.”

  “The thought makes me sick.”

  “Exactly. Fix it, cuz I know you want to. I’m gonna walk around for a while. The Jones twins are jonesing for some delicious caramel.” He rubs his hands down his chest and winks at me, it makes me chuckle. I love that goon. “Find me if you need me,” he says.

  “I’m just gonna drink myself into oblivion,” I mumble, “thanks.” He gives me a quick bro hug and walks away. I stay in the kitchen with some other football players and random sorority chicks. Most are clawing at me and it’s annoying. Nothing fucking makes sense anymore.

  I don’t want this, and I don’t want to be here. I want to be in my bed with Maisy’s head on my chest, stroking her beautiful black hair while we tell each other personal tidbits about our lives or things that happened during the day. I’ve never felt this way about anyone, and I feel hollow knowing that it’s gone.

  As I’m drowning myself in my bottle of Jack, listening to these guys talk about whose dick is bigger, I hear Maisy’s laugh through the crowd. It hits me right in the balls. Her laugh is musical. No fucking way she came here after what I did.

  I walk from the kitchen into the room with the beer pong tables. Logan, Finn, Gomez, and Stoner are there with Maisy and Roommate and some other random people. Roommate is dressed the same as Maisy, but doesn’t look even a little bit sexy in that outfit. Maisy on the other hand… The black makeup around her eyes makes her sapphire eyes glow so bright that they light up the room.

  Logan is dressed as a cowboy. Fitting for his Texan roots. Tight jeans, cowboy boots, a red, loose fitting t-shirt and a white cowboy hat. Finn and Gomez are dressed as baseball players, super original. They even wore their own jerseys… I shouldn’t judge. I’m not even dressed up. Gray sweater, dark skinny jeans and my gray and black Jack boots. I left the hair fly loose today because I didn’t give a fuck after Maisy left. I’m lucky I put on pants. Braxton is a tree. At six feet, seven inches, he just wore brown with green gloves for leaves. These guys are not super creative, although watching Braxton pretend to sway like a tree reminds me of one of those blow up things outside a car dealership when they have a sale and it’s pretty funny.

  I hover for a minute within earshot, but out of sight, pretending to have conversations with random people. I’m going fucking insane. I’m literally stalking her right now.

  “Hey, let’s get the beer bong flowing,” Roommate shouts. “Maze gets the first one!”

  What? She doesn’t drink. I thought she looked tipsy at the game today, but I brushed it aside because she swore to me she’s not about that lifestyle. She has a deep-rooted fear of alcohol and drug dependency, and for good reason.

  “No shit?” Finn says. “You’re gonna drink again? Two times in one day. Aren’t we lucky?” He smiles at her. Twice? She was fucking drinking with the boys at the game. Those motherfuckers probably think they can get lucky if she gets drunk and lets her guard down. Logan has wanted to tap her ass since he met her.

  “No shit,” she chirps happily. “It’s Halloween! I love Halloween and I want to have fun.” Or she wants to forget the sight of Syd the Screamer riding me like Seabiscuit. Unless, maybe she didn’t feel anything for me. Maybe I misread things.

  No, she wanted me. I could tell. She was pissed when she ran from my house. She was pissed at me and at Sydney. I hurt her, so she has to be doing this to forget. Just like I am. Cue bottle pull.

  “And we would love to help you with that,” Logan says with a dopey grin on his face. She smacks him on the arm playfully. She’s flirting. She’s far too happy after what happened just hours ago at my house. She may already be drunk.

  “This change of heart wouldn’t be over a certain footballer wo
uld it?” Finn questions. Hold up, he means me. Even in my drunken state, things still make a little sense. Maybe Finn knows something about her feelings that I don’t.

  “Fuck no,” Roommate replies before she can. “She’s just finally ready to spread her eighteen-year-old wings!”

  “You’re eighteen?” Stoner darts his eyes to Maisy. She really doesn’t share much information with people. And she opened up to me. Like deeply opened her heart and soul, and I fucking shit on it. I’m such a royal fuck-up sometimes that I hate myself. “How the hell are you in English Lit with us?”

  “She’s a genius,” Roommate offers again before she can speak again.

  “Just fill the damn thing up already,” Maisy snaps and seems desperate to change the subject from me and her personal life. She must be in a bad place, because she’s turning to one of the things that she swore she never would – alcohol. This is all my fault.

  Finn hands her the tube of the beer bong and Logan pours a beer into the funnel. Finn holds it up as Maisy drops to her knees. Beautiful fucking sight.

  “No matter how many times I see it, you look good on your knees, Maze,” Gomez chirps. I’m going end up fighting the entire baseball team tonight.

  “I’m ready, Finn.” She ignores Gomez and his innuendo.

  “One… two… three… fuck Donovan Blake!” Roommate shouts. Fuck her. Maisy puts the tube between her luscious lips. I remember what they looked like wrapped around my cock, her blue eyes piercing my soul with every lick and flick. The knot in my stomach tightens and my cock twitches in my jeans at the memory. I miss her. All of her. She drinks most of the beer, but gags on the last bit and it shoots out of her mouth onto the floor.

  “It’s okay, Maze, some girls spit and we’re okay with that. The result is the same for us.” Logan laughs at himself and helps Maisy off her knees where she shoves his shoulder. Playfully.

  “You’re disgusting, Logan,” she says, but with a laugh. Damn, she’s flirting with Logan. Talk about a quick rebound.

  The beer bongs continue to flow and the punch seems to be going down with delicious ease. She has at least two more beer bongs and two cups of the punch while I’m hovering. I talk to random people and shoo jersey chasers away, all while keeping my eyes on Maisy.

  Just as I’m in a heated debate about if Brooks will make a Super Bowl next season, I turn to check on Maisy and she has her arms flung around Johnny Logan’s neck. He’s sitting on the arm of a couch, so they’re face to face. His arms are wrapped around her waist. Her tiny, perfect waist, which is squeezed even tighter in that corset. Jesus fuck. I’m about to wrap my hands around Logan’s neck too.

  “Not my boy,” she slurs back to him. I don’t know what he asked her, but I think that question was about me. Logan is tall so when he stands, he lifts her from the floor and she wraps her toned, fishnet covered legs around his waist while she giggles at him. I’m seeing fucking red. I think back to what she saw earlier, and I can’t imagine what I would if I walked in on her fucking Logan. I would go Fight Club on him so fast he wouldn’t have time to breathe.

  “Well, he may not know that,” he says and nods toward the doorway where I’m standing. She turns her head and looks over at me. A grin spreads across her face. That is a not a “happy to see you” grin. That is a “fuck you” grin. What is happening?

  She grabs Logan’s face and plants a kiss right on his lips, while still tangled around his body. The kiss lasts probably three seconds, but it feels like hours. It sucks all the air out of the room, and my heart sinks to the pit of my stomach.

  She looks my way again, a Cheshire-cat grin creeping over her blood-red lips, which I’m sure she purposefully matched to her costume, and seductively licks her lips. Fuck. Me. Her eyes find mine as Logan lowers her to ground, and I tear my eyes from her lips to look her in the eye. She knows exactly what she’s doing. I can see the hatred pouring from her eyes. She starts grinding on him and he doesn’t stop her. She’s trying to make me jealous, and it is fucking working. She’s also inadvertently signed Logan’s death warrant.

  She spins so she and Logan are both facing me now. She starts rubbing her tutu’d ass against his cock in his jeans while I’m trying to calm myself down. I shouldn’t make a scene here.

  I step out from where I’m standing so I’m face to face with them. “What are you doing?” Logan asks her as he stares at me. I’m sure he’s pissing his pants from the way I’m glaring at him. “Are you trying to get me killed?” Logan isn’t as stupid as he looks after all.

  “What? No. I’m just having fun. Remember, I’m eighteen and enjoying life finally?” She turns back around to answer him and wraps her arms around his neck again.

  “I like you Maze, but I know you have feelings for Blake.” Logan smiles at her and rubs his thumb over her swallow tattoo. That’s it. He’s a dead man. Those are my birds.

  “I do not!” she exclaims, trying to sound convincing.

  I take two long strides and I stand directly behind her while she’s dirty dancing. Logan’s face goes pale. With just a few feet separating us, I reach out my arm and wrap my fingers around his neck, while with the other hand I grab her shoulder and spin her around to face me. The happiness she was just experiencing fades and she glares at me. Her eyes sear into me, and I can see the anger take over as she assesses me.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” I ask Logan as I squeeze his neck just a bit tighter, making him very uncomfortable, but still able to speak, albeit a little raspy. Maisy is squished between us, and I feel the anger radiating off of her tiny body.

  “Nothing, man,” Logan croaks. He has his hands raised like I’m a going to arrest him. He isn’t even fighting me. “She dan—“

  “Don’t fucking blame her,” I snarl.

  “What the fuck are you doing, Blake?” Maisy snaps and shoves my chest so I’m forced to back up a step and let go of Logan’s neck. He takes a deep breath and rubs the spot where my hand was. It’s a nice shade of red, and should be a bit purple by tomorrow. A good fucking reminder for him.

  “What? I’m out of the picture and all of a sudden you’re a lush and swear like a sailor?”

  “Yeah, well what can I say, you bring out the worst in me,” she replies and crosses her arms over her chest, pushing her tits up in that corset and turning me the fuck on, hard. I stare at her boobs for far longer than I should.

  “Eyes, here, Blake,” she snaps and points to her own eyes.

  “I’m not in the mood for your shit, Maisy.” I snap my focus back to her flawlessly beautiful face.

  “I’m not sure you have a choice, Blake.” I don’t miss how she keeps emphasizing my name after I told her it was okay to call me Van.

  The use of my last name, the name that every insignificant person calls me, bites when it comes out of her mouth. I instinctively grab her and pull her to my chest. I need to feel her. She’s feisty little ball of anger and pushes her palms into my chest and wiggles free. Rejected.

  “Stop it. You can’t just come in here and touch me after what happened!” she yells at me.

  “Uh oh, did someone learn about the bet?” Stoner walks in with a fresh beer and starts laughing at Maisy’s outburst. What? No he fucking didn’t. What did he just say?

  He just fucking outed me. Tonight has been bad enough. I wasn’t prepared to climb two mountains. I wanted to tell her about the bet after I smoothed over the Sydney thing. God damn it!

  “What bet?” Millie turns from the beer pong table and asks. Maisy is frozen in place. Of course she would ask.

  Finn, Stoner, Gomez, and Logan all remain silent, but continue to stare between each other and me.

  “Somebody better fucking start talking!” Maisy finds her voice and shouts. She has now drawn attention from others in the room, who have stopped their beer pong games to watch what’s unfolding. Shit.

  “I’ll explain. Can we just go outside or something?” I can’t do this in front of everyone. I stare at Stoner with my fists clenched at my
sides. I’m so close to losing it on him, but I keep reminding myself this isn’t his fault. This is my fault. That in itself is a big step forward from who I used to be.

  “No, fucking way,” she snaps. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

  “Can we go outside,” I pause, “please?”

  “No! Fuck! You!” she shouts again while pointing at my chest. Cue the embarrassment I was worried about.

  “Does everyone know what is going on here except us?” she questions and motions between her and Roommate. The pain in her eyes is heartbreaking as she realizes she was the last to know on top of the embarrassment and overall dickishness of the whole situation.

  Finn’s eyes dart away, and he’s busted. She sees him trying to avoid her.

  “Finn, you better fucking start talking,” she snarls at him. She is angry. Really fucking angry. If she were a guy, she would beating someone’s ass.

  Finn shoots a look to me as if to ask for pity. I nod.

  “We made a bet Maisy. Me and Blake,” he begins and his eyes start to gloss over. He may cry. Maisy is a good person and didn’t deserve this. He genuinely likes her too. “It was before we got to know you. Before anything, I swear.”

  “Timeline doesn’t matter, Finn. What the hell? We were friends.” She looks away as the tears fill her eyes, but she doesn’t let them fall. “Terms?” She turns back and commands an answer with an odd sense of calm taking over her demeanor.

  “If Blake bagged you by Halloween I was gonna be his bitch for a year. If he didn’t he would pay off my student loans.” Finn sighs and looks down to his feet in humiliation. “I’m so sorry, Maisy. I—“

  She cuts off Finn’s apology and focuses back on me, anger returning and now seething from every pore in her body, her ocean eyes dark and stormy. The kind of storm that tears apart everything in its path. She is about to level me.

  “So obviously you lost, you sick son of a bitch,” she growls with her teeth clenched. She’s clearly trying to control her emotions in front of the crowd that has gathered around us. “I was nothing but a fucking bet. Everything was a lie.” Her words cut deep.