by Alex Grayson
This was never going to work anyway. Better that I cut ties now and save both of us a lot of heartache in the future. While physically we seem completely compatible, I think it’s pretty clear that emotionally we are on opposite ends of the planet.
Yet, even though I know I’m right, it doesn’t stop the small ache in my chest from forming. Because deep down, even though I hate to admit it, I think a part of me was actually starting to really like him.
13
OLIVER
I slam my fist against the punching bag so hard that vibrations radiate up my arm to my shoulder. I’m sweaty and out of breath, but the pain feels good, so I do it again and again and again. The Stone Temple Pilots blast in my ears, drowning out the noise of the gym.
I don’t know how much time passes before I’m forced to hunch over with my hands on my knees before I pass the fuck out. I’ve been working my body for the last two hours, and it’s still not enough to take my mind off the shit show my life is at the moment.
Grabbing my towel off a nearby bench, I swipe it across my forehead before snatching up my water bottle and chugging half of it. I shoot a couple of guys who are watching me warily a fuck-off glare as I head toward the showers. I chose to come to the gym here at school instead of the one across town because it was closer, but now I regret that shit. At least there, my chances of running into someone I know are slim. Here, I’m surrounded by pansy ass fuck faces who are too afraid to approach me. But then again, that’s a good thing, because I’m in no mood to deal with anyone.
I don’t know who I’m pissed at more. My father for all the shit he’s put me through. My mother for cheating and all of the lies. Savannah for making me feel things for her I have no right to feel. Or myself for the stupid mistake I made last Friday at the party. All I saw was red when I walked into that room and saw the douche so close to Savannah. It was pure luck that I didn’t go over there and rip his goddamn head off. I came close, even took several steps toward them before I veered away and grabbed the arm of the first girl I came across.
I won’t admit this shit out loud but seeing Savannah with that guy hurt. Really fucking hurt. My first instinct was to hurt her back. And I did. I saw it in her eyes when she said that whatever is, or was, going on between us was over. That was the reason I walked away from her. I couldn’t stand to see the pain on her face. Pain that I caused.
I haven’t seen her since. I’ve purposely stayed away. Because I’m a pussy and don’t want to see that pain again. My jaw clenches. Or take the chance of seeing her with someone else.
Using my fist, I slam through the doors to the locker room. A guy sitting on a bench glances over at me before turning back to whatever’s on his phone. After grabbing my bottle of shampoo from a locker, I reach back and tug my shirt over my head as I walk to the showers. Once I’m naked, I don’t wait for the water to warm before I step under the spray. The shock of cold water feels good, so I hang my head for a few moments. Dumping some shampoo in my palm, I wash my hair and use the extra suds to lather my body.
I’ve finished washing up and have a towel wrapped around my hips, digging through my bag when a couple of guys walk in.
“Did you see the rack on her?” one guy boasts, holding his hands out in front of his chest as if holding a pair of tits.
“Only reason her tits are so big is because she had no meat on her bones,” the other guy snorts. “There’s not an inch to grab on to for support.”
“True that.” The first guy opens a locker and stuffs a bag inside. He turns to his friend and laughs. “But all that hair will do just fine. Wrap that shit around my hand and hold her still while I plow her from behind.” He thrusts his hips.
Fucking idiots.
The second guy punches his friend on the shoulder. “You’re such an asshole, dude.”
“Asshole or not, I bet you fifty bucks I’ll have her underneath me by the end of the night.”
They turn from the locker and head back toward the door. The first guy catches my eye and offers a chin lift. I don’t offer one back.
Guys like him make me sick. I may be an asshole, but the girls I sleep with know exactly what they’re getting when I fuck them. No strings attached fun. That’s it. The dick who just left no doubt plays on the feelings of girls just to get them in bed, only to hightail it out of there once he’s had them.
After I’m dressed and my gym clothes are stuffed in my bag, I shoulder it and head out of the locker room. Next stop is one of the campus cafes for an extra-large coffee. I have an exam tomorrow I’ve been putting off studying for, so it’s going to be an all-nighter. Despite my father’s beliefs that I’m fucking around in college and don’t care about my grades, I actually do. I’ll be damned if I fuck up my only way to get out from under him. I still don’t know what the fuck I plan to do with my life, other than getting far away from him. It’s the reason why I’m taking his money to attend college in the first place. I figured with all the shit he’s put me through, he damn well owes it to me.
I pull my phone from my pocket to check the time when something has me jerking my head to the side. The dickheads from the locker room are at the weight benches. But instead of lifting weights, they are both on the benches and have their eyes hungrily pinned a few feet away from them. I’m just about to dismiss them and whatever poor girl they have their sights set on when I realize who they are looking at.
Savannah and Rylee don’t even see the fuckers leering at them. Both have earbuds in as they jog on treadmills.
My blood boils and my first instinct is to go over to the guys, pluck out their eyeballs, and stuff them up their asses. I drop my bag with a thump and stalk their way. Like the girls, they don’t see me approach.
I’m so focused on getting to the guys and beating the shit out of them that I don’t see Savannah until she grabs my arm—having no idea how she got off the treadmill so damn fast. I stop, keeping my eyes on the pair of assholes, who are now looking at me. After a moment, I pull my eyes away from them and look at Savannah.
“What are you doing?” she hisses, out of breath, her eyes darting back and forth between me and the two dead fuckers.
“It’s none of your concern.”
“You’ve got murder in your eyes, Oliver. So yes, I’d say it is my concern.”
“Fine,” I bite out. “Let me rephrase. It’s none of your business.”
Her lips tighten and her fingers dig into my forearm. “Again. It is my business when it looks like you’re going to do serious harm to those two guys who were just looking at Rylee and me.”
My gaze sharpens on her. “They were doing more than looking. They were talking stupid shit in the locker room.”
“So?” She huffs and throws her other hand on her hip. “That gives you the right to beat the crap out of them?”
I glare over at the guys and see them warily watching me as they gather their shit together. Irritation has my heart pounding when I realize they’re leaving. I glance back down at Savannah.
“Yes, it does.”
“That’s stupid, Oliver. They can say whatever they want to say.”
“Not the shit that was leaving their mouths.”
“Why are you so butt hurt over what some guys were saying?”
I lean down and get in her face. “Because no one says shit about my girl. Not where I can hear it.”
Her eyes widen and she releases my arm to take a step back. I clench my teeth and stuff my hands in my pockets before I reach out and yank her to me.
“Hey. What’s going on over here?” Rylee asks, walking up to us. “Everything okay?”
“Everything’s fine,” I answer Rylee, but keep my eyes on Savannah.
“Okaaay,” she says slowly, bouncing her eyes between Savannah and me. “Umm… Savannah and I were just finishing up here before I drop her back off at the apartment. I’m headed to Zayden’s for the night.”
“I’ll take her home,” I say before I can stop myself because I’m apparently into self-to
rture.
“There’s no need for that,” Savannah states. “Rylee can take me home.”
“Actually, that would be great, Oliver. Zayden has to get to bed early because he has a big test tomorrow, so the earlier I get there, the more time I get to spend with him.”
Savannah’s eyes narrow as she swings her head around to glare at Rylee. “You told me earlier that he had an easy day tomorrow.”
She shrugs. “Sorry. Must have forgotten about the test.”
She’s lying. It’s written all over her fake innocent expression.
“Yeah. Right,” Savannah mutters. “You know what? It doesn’t matter. I’ll call an Uber.”
She turns to walk away, but I grab her arm and pull her back to me. “Don’t be stupid, Savannah. It’s just a car ride home.”
“Fine.” She releases a long breath and her shoulders sag. “Let me grab my stuff.”
I watch as she walks away, my eyes glued to her ass in her tight as hell yoga pants. I slide my gaze up, and it zeroes in on the dimples in her shoulders. Ones I’d love nothing more than to dip my tongue in as she writhes beneath me.
I yank my eyes away and look at Rylee. “I don’t like the two of you coming to the gym at night. And I’m surprised Zayden lets you.”
She laughs and pats my chest. “He’s already tried stopping us, but like you’re going to have to do, he got over it.” Her smile drops some. “We aren’t stupid, you know. We carry mace in our bags.”
“I still don’t like it.” My eyes move past her to where the guys were. They’ve either moved somewhere out of sight or were pussies and left. “Mace can’t always save you.”
“And that’s why we’re also taking krav maga classes a couple nights a week.”
My brows jump up. This is news to me. “Since when?”
“Since the beginning of the school year. It was Savannah’s idea. She had a cousin who was attacked on campus in Georgia a few years ago.”
I nod tightly. I still hate the idea of her and Savannah walking around campus at night, but there’s only so much I can do. And knowing they’re taking precautions lessens some of my anxiety.
Savannah walks up carrying her gym bag.
“You ready?”
She nods.
I grab her bag from her shoulder and lift a brow when she opens her mouth to protest. With an eyeroll, she turns away from me. After I pick up my own bag, the girls and I leave the gym. Rylee rolls her eyes when I insist on walking her to her car.
It’s dark out with only a few people milling about, and even though it’s not that late, there’s no way in hell I’m letting her walk to her car alone. People don’t realize how often people are attacked on college campuses. Especially ones this size.
Once Savannah and I are in my car, I glance at her.
“Have you eaten yet?”
“I really don’t think—”
“Jesus,” I groan, cutting her off. “Would you fucking relax? I asked in case you wanted me to stop somewhere so you could grab yourself something.” I jam the key in the ignition. “I have no plans to force you to stay in my company any longer than necessary.”
I speed out of the parking lot, more frustrated at myself for caring about Savannah’s wellbeing than her abhorrence of being near me. Why in the hell should I care if she’s taking care of herself when the woman couldn’t give two fucks about me?
“I’m sorry,” she says in the quiet car. “I didn’t mean to be rude. I ate before Rylee and I went to the gym.”
All I can manage to give her is a jerky nod. She turns quiet after that and stares out the windshield. I toy with the idea of turning on the radio to block out the uncomfortable silence, but I decide not to. If I have to be uncomfortable, so can she.
A few minutes later, I pull into the parking lot of her apartment building, and park in a close spot. Reaching back, I grab her bag from the backseat and drop it in her lap. Feeling the intensity of her eyes on me, I keep mine pointed forward.
“Thanks for the ride home.”
“Welcome,” I grunt.
Another minute goes by. “I really am sorry. I’ve just had—”
“Don’t worry about it.”
She sighs, and a pang hits my chest at the dejected sound. I open my mouth to apologize for being a dick, but she slings the passenger door open and climbs out before I can. I grip the steering wheel in an effort to keep from going after her. Even so, I can’t help but watch her walk across the parking lot.
She takes the first step leading to the door and my heart fucking drops when her foot slips. Her arms go out in front of her to catch herself right before her face cracks against the concrete steps, but she goes down hard on her knees.
I’m out of my car and across the lot seconds later.
“Shit. Are you okay?” I ask, kneeling down beside her.
She spins around to sit on the step and brushes her hands off. There are a few small surface scratches.
“Yeah,” she grumbles. “Just a bruised ego.”
I notice a rip in her leggings and grimace at the blood darkening the material. “Looks like you got your knee pretty good.”
She looks at the scrape. “Crap. And these are my favorite yoga pants.”
I chuckle and grab her bag from the bottom step. After shouldering it, I reach down and help her up. “Need me to carry you?”
Her eyes dart up to mine in amusement. “It’s a skinned knee, Oliver. Not a broken ankle. I think I can manage to walk up a few stairs.”
I glance back down to her knee and lift a brow. “That’s debatable.”
She raps the back of her hand against my stomach. “Smartass.”
I chuckle again and follow behind her as she ascends the stairs, keeping a careful eye on her. She turns back around when she reaches the door.
“What are you doing?”
Crossing my arms over my chest, I shoot her a duh look. “Making sure you get to your apartment okay and checking on your knee.”
She stares a me a moment before she shakes her head with an audible grumble and grabs the handle. Once we’re inside her apartment, I drop her bag by the door.
“First aid kit?”
I already know she has one in her bathroom from my morning here a week ago, but I don’t think her knowing I snooped in her medicine cabinet would go over well with her.
“You don’t have to doctor me, Oliver.”
“First aid kit?” I ask again.
With a huff, she points to the hallway. “Medicine cabinet in the bathroom.”
“Why don’t you get changed into some shorts while I grab it.”
She follows me down the hallway, going into the bedroom beside the bathroom and closing the door behind her. I grab the kit out of the medicine cabinet and go to leave when I stop. Stepping closer to the second door in the bathroom—which I thought was a closet—I press my ear against the wood. Muttered curses and shuffling of clothes greets my ear.
Fuck me.
Savannah’s on the other side, probably naked. I stifle a groan at the images bombarding my mind. Before my hardening dick gets me into trouble by tempting me to open the door, I leave the bathroom. I drop the kit on the couch and go to the kitchen. After filling a glass with water from the tap, I chug it down.
The light pad of feet has me spinning around as Savannah steps into the kitchen. My mouth goes dry when I take in what she’s wearing. A fitted black t-shirt that molds across her ample chest and a pair of dark shorts that fit entirely too well. She shifts from one bare foot to the other, as if my assessment of her makes her nervous.
I clear my throat before I attempt to speak.
“You ready?”
“Yeah.”
She turns, and I follow her back into the living room. Once she’s situated on the couch, I take a seat on the coffee table directly in front of her. Looking at the scrape on her knee, I realize it’s really not that bad. She could have taken care of it herself, but I’m secretly glad I insisted on looking myself. It g
ives me more time with her.
With the location of the scrape, it’s hard to see with her leg bent, so I grab the back of her knee and carefully bring her leg up so it’s laying across my thighs. Her skin feels so fucking soft. Would she slap me if I grazed my hand further up her thigh?
Hell yeah, she would.
Mentally shaking myself, I grab some gauze and the small bottle of peroxide. Holding the gauze close to the scrape, I pour some of the liquid over the scrape. It fizzes on the open wound.
“How have you been?” Savannah’s quiet voice has me looking up at her.
I shrug as I pour more liquid on the scrape. “Fine. Busy with school.”
“Have you been able to get in touch with your mom?” She attempts to make small talk.
“No, and I’ve stopped trying.”
Savannah shifts over on the couch and something catches my eye. A small red box is wedged between two cushions. Noticing my attention has been drawn away from her knee, Savannah looks down beside her. Her head jerks up, her eyes wide when they meet mine. Reaching out, I snag the box of Red Hots.
“Those are Rylee’s,” she blurts quickly.
I smirk. “Try again. I know for a fact that Rylee hates Red Hots.”
“Zayden?” She poses it like a question, as if asking if that suggestion is more plausible.
My smirk turns into a full-fledge grin as I shake my head.
“Fine,” she grumbles. “They’re mine, okay?”
Laughing, I open the box and tip it to my lips, letting a few of the hot candies fall into my mouth.
“Gimme those,” she growls, snatching the box from me. I watch in amusement as she dumps some candy into her hand before popping them in her mouth.
It’s cute as fuck. Did she buy them because she really likes them? Or because they remind her of me?
“Why do you eat so many of these anyway?” she asks.
I rifle through the kit, looking for some antibiotic ointment.
“No clue. I’ve just always liked them. Even as a kid, they were what I always chose off the candy shelf.”
“It’s a weird choice for a kid.”