I headed to the student lounge on the main level of my dorm. I wanted to take a look at the syllabus for my mythology class to see what the term had in store for me. I barely sat down when my phone chirped, alerting me of an incoming text message.
Thx for showing me the rain.
I smiled and texted back.
Anytime. And next time, we’ll stop and smell the roses.
I hit send and pulled my laptop out of my bag. While I waited for to boot up, I received another text.
Looking forward to it. See ya @ 7.
I wrote back.
See ya then.
I switched my phone to silent and slipped it into my bag’s front pocket. I pulled out the syllabus to see what was up this week. After scanning the list, I realized that I knew a lot about the first topic on it: Greek mythology. I decided that a refresher would be nice and opened a new browser window. I typed in ‘Olympian Gods’ into the search bar, and a lot of results popped up. I cracked my neck from side to side, took a deep breath, and dove in. I was halfway through the tragic story of Orpheus and Eurydice when I felt Owen’s presence.
A chill ran down my spine and I pretended to keep reading. I could feel the weight of his eyes on me. When I couldn’t take it anymore, I scanned the room and my eyes found him immediately. He was on the far side of the lounge, surrounded by a group of people, but his focus was on me. I shifted uncomfortably in my chair and turned my focus back to the story.
Twenty minutes passed, and I managed to only read a few sentences. I was distracted. Every time I tried to sneak a peek of Owen, I’d find him standing there, still watching me. Frustrated, I leaned back in my chair, rested my head on the back of it, closed my eyes, and started to rub my temples.
“Whatcha doing?” Amelia’s voice startled me. Opening my eyes, I discovered her face directly above mine. She stepped back, came around from the side, and sat down in the chair opposite of me. I glanced at Owen. Amelia looked over her shoulder and then back at me. “I’m sensing a bit of tension between the two of you.”
“Don’t get me started,” I huffed.
I closed my computer and put it back in my bag. Out the corner of my eye, I saw Amelia looking at Owen. Straightening up, I held my face in my hands. What was wrong with me? I couldn’t understand why I was letting him get under my skin. I didn’t want anything from him—I couldn’t have anything from him. I’d only been here for four days now, and I wanted to leave. I wanted the safety and comfort of my home. This whole being ‘out on your own’ thing was not for me. I was beginning to realize that now and it was all because of some guy I didn’t know.
“You can talk to me you know,” Amelia said, her voice filled with hope. Even though she understood my difficulties about opening up, it didn’t stop her from letting me know she was there whenever I needed her.
“He’s a pig,” I said plainly.
She threw her head back and laughed loudly, capturing the attention people around us. “Honey, all men are pigs. That’s why we hate ’em.” She giggled. “And that’s why love ’em, too.”
I thought about what I’d seen last night—Owen with those two girls. Not only did I think that rated especially low on the ‘respect for women’ pole, it also didn’t say much to his character—or theirs. Any guy who participated in such crude behavior had to have self-esteem issues. That’s the only way I could see it. Did he really think so lowly of himself? Was he trying to prove something? Or was Owen really just a pig? Maybe it was a combination of all three. I felt like my head was going to explode. “Two girls . . . at the same time,” I said, shuddering with disgust.
“What!” Amelia shouted. I felt everyone’s eyes on us again. I held a finger to my lips and Amelia quieted down. “When?” she asked in a hushed tone.
“Last night,” I whispered.
Silence fell around us. Amelia kept looking over her shoulder at Owen. Felicity had joined the group and I couldn’t take it anymore. Grabbing my bag, I slung it over my shoulder and started to leave. Amelia followed me without hesitation. I headed for the elevator and pressed the button.
“So what’s on the agenda for tonight?” she asked as we stepped in.
I fidgeted with the shoulder strap of my laptop bag. “I have dinner plans tonight.”
I didn’t have to see her face to know she was grinning. “Are these plans with a boy?” she pried. When I didn’t answer, she let loose the loudest shrill I’d ever heard. We reached our floor and I took off to our room as quick as I could, with her hot on my tail.
“It is, isn’t it?” she asked, her voice loud and full of excitement.
I shook my head, laughing, and kept walking.
“Brennan Grace Daniels!” she shouted as I barreled into our room. I knew she’d make a big deal out of this. I dropped onto my bed, but she crossed the room and hovered over me. “I’m not letting this go, you know.”
Of course, she wasn’t.
“It’s not a date,” I said. She crossed her arms and gave me a look that said she didn’t believe me. I sat up and she took a few steps back. She was making it perfectly clear that she wasn’t going anywhere until I gave her what she wanted. “It’s just two friends,” I said. “One happens to be a girl and the other a guy, and they’re having dinner together. It’s strictly platonic.”
“Uh-huh,” she said, not buying it. “So Mr. Sexy Pants is out then?” Sexy pants? My face dropped and I sighed. She uncrossed her arms and frowned. “Sorry, I didn’t mean that.”
“In order to him to be out, Sexy Pants had to be in,” I said, laughing.
I thought about telling her about the kiss yesterday morning, but decided not to. There wasn’t much to tell, we kissed—and it was amazing—but then he kicked me out of his room. Later he brought back two girls, and did God only knows what with them. That was territory I wasn’t about to enter.
I made a decision sometime between last night and this morning that this thing with Owen, whatever it was, was ridiculous. I wasn’t going to fret about it anymore. So far, I wasn’t doing a very good job.
She walked back over to my bed, motioned for me to scoot over, and sat down next to me. “So tell me, who is this mysterious new guy? Is he hot?”
I laughed and wrapped my arms around her, happy she let the topic of Owen drop. “His name is Callen. And yeah . . . he’s all right.”
Okay, so he was more than all right. He could be classified as a whole other level of sexy. He was lean, but I could tell he worked out. He had one of the nicest smiles I had ever seen. I could listen to his smooth, baritone voice lull me to sleep anytime. And he was funny—incredibly so. But best of all, he seemed like a truly genuine guy, which was rare for guys our age. He seemed like a no nonsense type, and that’s what I liked about him the most. And that he saved an ill-prepared girl from being soaked to the bones.
“That’s it?” she asked, shoving me lightly. “Tell me that’s not everything.”
“There isn’t much to tell,” I said. “We met after class and talked on the way back to the dorms. He’s a sophomore and an English major from California . . .” I paused. I had to take a moment for the freak out I knew was coming. “Oh,” I continued, nonchalantly, “and he plays on the basketball team.”
3 . . . 2 . . . 1 “AHHH!”
She jumped off the bed and started dancing around the room. I watched with sheer amusement as I tried to figure out what she was doing. Clothes started flying around me. She picked up a box she hadn’t unpacked yet, tipped it over, and a mountain of shoes fell out.
“What. Are. You. Doing?” I asked, afraid of the answer. Shoes started to fly toward my side of the room. I ducked as one soared above my head and crashed against the wall.
“Finding you the perfect outfit for your date.” She didn’t stop moving around the room. “What time are you going out?”
“Seven.” I laughed. “It isn’t a date. So what is wrong with what I have on now?”
Amelia stopped dead in
her tacks. Her eyes narrowed. If looks could kill . . . “You’ve gotta be kidding me, right?”
I shrugged my shoulders. I didn’t see anything wrong with my outfit. I had on a pair of leggings, a long flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up to my elbows, and a pair of flats. In addition to my locket, I had on a blue, layered necklace, and I wore my hair in loose curls.
“Look, what you have on is cute for everyday wear, but you’re going to dinner . . . .with a basketball player. A college basketball player.”
The girl was crazy.
“You talk as if he’s royalty or something,” I said, shaking my head.
She grabbed the mate for the heel she had in her hand. “My dear, you have so much to learn!” She patted my cheek, but I swatted her hand away. She started moving around the room again, and kept talking as she went. “Everyone knows athletes are the gods on campus.”
I scoffed. “Anything else I should learn, old wise one?”
“All in good time.” She winked and held something up with her right hand. “I got it. The perfect outfit for your strictly platonic date with a god.”
***
Note to self: never try to win an argument about fashion against Amelia.
Her “perfect” outfit turned out to be a skimpy, sheer white dress. My goods—what little I had—had hung out from top and bottom. And don’t get me started on the bright pink stilettos she picked out. I looked like a two-bit whore, and we argued for an hour over the outfit. I might’ve won the argument—this time, at least—but I knew it wouldn’t happen again.
I got away with wearing a cute pair of black shorts that barely covered my butt cheeks, a cute white blouse, and a pair of strappy sandals. I straightened my hair and gave it some volume. In exchange for not wearing Amelia’s outfit of choice, I agreed to let her do my makeup. My face felt heavy under the ton of crap she plastered onto it, but I had to admit the way she gave my eyelids a smoky look was . . . well . . . smoking hot. Soon after she’d finished the makeup, Callen texted me to let me know he was on his way.
My stomach was full of fluttering butterflies as we waited for Callen to show up. Amelia bounced around on her feet like a giddy schoolgirl—like she was the one about to go to dinner, not me. The door in the lobby opened and I saw Callen’s tall frame walk through. My stomach flipped upside down and I was suddenly nervous.
“Is that him?” Amelia whispered into my ear. I nodded. “You forgot to mention that he was mouthwatering delicious. I could lick the sweat off his body.”
I stifled back a laugh and elbowed her away, but I understood where she was coming from. Callen looked hot. Outside, huddling under an umbrella to keep dry, he was an entirely different person. But right now, he looked like—what was that word she used earlier—a god. His light-washed jeans hung perfectly from his hips. The navy blue polo he was wearing brightened the blue of his eyes, and his smile was beamed from ear to ear, dimples and all.
“Hey,” he said casually. “Long time no see.” I smiled. He looked at Amelia, smiled, and showed off his pearly white teeth. “And who is this?”
She answered before I could even open my mouth. “Amelia! I’m the roommate.”
“Nice to meet you, Amelia the roommate,” he said, offering his hand to her.
“Now listen,” she said, taking up a mock-authoritative tone, “I want her home by midnight, buddy.” She put her hands on her hips and stared at him intently. I wanted to lock myself in our room and never seen the light of day again. “Not a second later, got it?”
Callen seemed unraveled by Amelia’s demands. “I’ll have her home by 11:59.”
Amelia nodded once. She pulled me into a hug before releasing me and patting Callen on the shoulder. “Well, you two have fun.”
She turned on her heels and walked back toward the elevator. I shook my head in disbelief. Could she have embarrassed me more than that? Unfortunately, the answer was yes. At least, this time she wasn’t dry humping the air like she did with Owen. Callen held out his arm and I placed my hand in the crook of his elbow. He opened the door, let me walk out first, and took his place beside me again. We walked arm in arm. I had no idea where we were going since he refused to give me even the tiniest hint.
“Sorry about Amelia,” I said as we crossed the street. “She tends to come off a little strong.”
“She seems like a good friend,” he replied, flashing me a smile. “How long have you two known each other?”
“Four days.”
He slowed his pace, looking like he was in deep thought about something, and then he started to laugh. “Four days . . .” He shook his head. “Wow. She acted as if you two have been friends for years.”
I nodded. I had to stop and remind myself I just met her on Friday. If you counted that day, it was four days—only ninety-six hours ago, give or take a few hours.
“Where exactly are we going?” I asked.
“You’ll see,” he said, teasingly. He winked and gave me nothing more than that.
I was getting impatient—I hated being surprised. We walked along the main road for a while and started through the parking lot of a nearby market. As we got closer to the store, I realized Callen was heading toward the door, and I came to a stop. “The grocery store?” I asked, raising an eyebrow and looking at him funny.
“I need to grab something really quick before we head out to dinner,” he said, flashing a crooked smile. “Is that all right?”
I nodded and followed him into the store. He seemed to know right where we were going. I stood idly next to him in the juice aisle and wondered what he could possibly need. Callen grabbed a bottle of sparkling cider, winked at me, and then we headed back to the front of the store. He paid the cashier and we started back toward campus. I was completely oblivious to what was going on. I thought we were supposed to be going to dinner, not walking to the store for some fizzy juice.
Callen repeatedly checked his phone and, when the dorms came into sight, sent someone a text. His fingers moved like lightning across the screen. I tried to lean in and see what he was typing without him catching me, but he was doing a pretty good job keeping me at bay. He tucked his phone into his pocket, glanced at me, and smiled. We walked past the dorms, heading deeper into the campus, and then I almost stumbled over myself when I saw it across the way—he’d arranged for us to have a picnic. Right there, on a patch of lush green grass, in the middle of campus. I was stunned.
Once we reached the blanket, he held my hand as I sat down. There were pillows scattered around and a wicker basket sitting off to the side. Though it was still pretty light outside, there were also candles. But they didn’t seem like any ordinary candles. I picked one up and knew they weren’t real.
“LED candles,” he explained, sitting down next to me. It was the first time either of us spoke since we left the store. “I’m pretty sure campus security would have a field day if they had an actual flame.”
“Probably,” I replied.
I didn’t know what to make of it. No one had ever done something as sweet or romantic for me. Then it hit me. He thought this was a date. He might’ve been looking for something more—something I couldn’t give him. I knew then I couldn’t lead him on. I couldn’t let him get invested in something that would lead to heartache.
“Callen . . .” I took a deep breath. “This all really nice—the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me, in fact. But you need to know . . . I’m not in a place for a relationship right now. I don’t want you getting the wrong impression.” He didn’t say anything and stared at me with his kind eyes. “What I need right now is a friend. If you think you can be that friend then I will stay. If you want something more than that then it’s best if I go.”
When he still didn’t respond, I moved to get up. He reached for my hand and pulled me back onto the blanket. “Brennan,” he said, his voice soft. “I understand. I’m fine with being only friends.”
“Callen . . .”
/>
He started to laugh, his body shaking as the laughter grew louder. What in the world was so funny? I got up to leave again. “Wait . . .” He chuckled again. “Brennan,”—another laugh—“just hold on.”
I was already walking away. He grabbed my hand and turned me around to face him. He rubbed the back of his neck, still laughing, but softer. “I told them this was too much.”
This got my attention. Callen nodded back toward the blanket. I was a little hesitant to follow, but I did anyways.
“Who are you talking about?”
“Some of the guys on my team,” he said. “I left my phone lying around, they read our messages, and didn’t give me much of a say in the matter.” I giggled, relieved. “I was planning to take you for burgers or something.”
For the first time since seeing the picnic, I relaxed and erupted into laughter, and I struggled to catch my breath. Callen laid next to me. It took a few minutes to get myself back under control. I turned my head, looked at him, and felt comfortable laying there like that.
“To be honest,” he said, “even if I wanted a relationship, I wouldn’t have the time. If I’m not in class, I’m at practice. If I’m not practicing, I’m at a game. We travel all the time and I’m always burned out. Being in a relationship would be selfish of me.”
I absorbed his words like a sponge. I could see where he was coming from. College was going to be hard enough for me. I couldn’t imagine being an athlete on top of it. I was happy knowing that we were on the same page. I don’t know why, but I moved my head to his chest. The rhythm of his heartbeat relaxed me.
“So, friends?” I asked.
“Friends is good.” His stomach rumbled underneath me. I slapped it with one hand and sat up.
“Now that the air is clear . . .” I said. “What’s on the menu? Because I’m hungry.”
“Honestly, I have no idea,” he replied. “Who knows what they put in here.” He reached for the basket, setting it between us, and looked at me. “Ready?” he asked. I nodded.
This One’s For You Page 8