The Wrong Girl_Hanson University_Book Two

by McKenna Kerrick

  Right now, fluidity wasn't coming to me no matter how hard I tried to think of something. Anything at all to get this anger out of my system.

  I didn't even know why I was angry.

  Because Alex acted like the idea of me having a boyfriend was nothing to be interested in?

  Because I was going to get caught lying eventually?

  Or was it because I didn't know what to do with Alex being, once again, thrust into my personal space because of shared friends?

  My leg buckled and I fell. My thigh screaming at me as it stretched too tight and began to cramp.

  “Oh shit,” I breathe out and hunch over my leg.

  It's been awhile since I've had a muscle get like this; too long for my immediate response to come through beyond hissing in and out breaths of air.

  Oh jeez, I'm going to have to amputate my leg to get this cramp to go away.

  “Uh, are you okay?”

  I swing my head around and come to, who else would I be so lucky to see, Alex’s concerned gaze. “I'm fine,” I bite out.

  “Yeah, you sure look fine.” He folds his arms across his chest and leans one shoulder on the doorframe to the dance studio. “You look like you're about to cry.”

  “I'm not going to cry,” I sniffle.

  “What's wrong?”

  “I told you I was fine.”

  “I don't believe you.”

  Why, in God's green earth, did he have to argue with me? Why couldn't he just take what I was saying at face value instead of pushing?

  Alex sighs, shifting until he's standing again before walking towards me. “Did you pull a muscle?”

  “I don't think so,” I lie.

  “You're seriously just going to keep lying to my face aren't you?” he snaps.

  He crouches down and puts a giant hand on my knee. It's a good thing I'm in leggings so he can't see the goosebumps his warm palm just caused to happen.

  “Where did you pull a muscle?” He extends his hand down my leg until it's resting above my ankle. “Was it your foot? Or calf?”

  I wish. “No.”

  “Did you pop your hip out of place or lock your back up?” he asks.

  “No.”

  “Grace,” Alex growls. “Where are you hurt?”

  “I just pulled a hamstring is all,” I wince. “You don't have to pretend you care.”

  I don't know why I said that. And from the startled look on Alex’s face he seems just surprised by the words as I am.

  “I'm sorry, that was a shitty thing to say.”

  “You can blame your hamstring then,” Alex says with a stony expression.

  “Alex, I really am sorry.”

  “Okay.”

  God, I'm such an asshole. Here he was, popping in to see if I was okay when I clearly wasn't, and I attack him for no reason whatsoever.

  “You know, I don't hate you,” Alex says, startling me. “I stopped hating you a long time ago. At some point the past has to be in the past, you know? So I'm sorry if I'm making you uncomfortable.”

  “You're not,” I blow out a breath. “I was doing ballet and I don't normally do any ballet moves and my body just reminded me of that.”

  He tilts his head to the side, a lock of hair falling forward on his forehead. My fingers itch to push it back.

  I need to get my hormones in check.

  “Why are you doing ballet if you're a contemporary dancer?”

  My mouth opens and closes. “You remember that?”

  “Jesus, Grace, I’m not a jackass,” he scowls down at me and grips above my knee with his hand. He starts to massage just above my knee, even if it's not where the current pinch is at. “We dated, you know. I'm sure you're fancy dancer boyfriend can tell you all the pretty things to make you feel great about this dream you have. Since you share it. But I paid attention.”

  “I wasn't implying you didn't,” I say softly.

  “Yeah, you were. Every time I'm around you, you're constantly insulting me or finding a way to.”

  “No, I'm not.”

  He quirks an angry eyebrow at me.

  “Not on purpose,” I amend. “It's not like you haven't either. You let your bimbo spill her drink on me.”

  “I didn't let her do anything. She did that all on her own. And she's not a bimbo.”

  “I'm sorry, does football prostitute work better for you?”

  “Grace, you're doing it again.”

  “Doing what? I'm just being honest.”

  “You sound jealous.”

  “I'm not jealous of some bimbo,” I glare. “You're just jealous that I can find someone who wants an actual relationship with me and cares about my future.”

  “I cared about your future,” Alex fumes. “But I didn't put your future above my own, remember? I was the one who was trying when you decided to go away and call it quits.”

  “You didn't care! It was stupid dance to you!” I snap.

  Alex glares. “Just like stupid football was to you? It's a two-way road, sugar. You don't get to act like I'm the bad guy when I didn't do shit but love you.”

  I don't have a response to that.

  “God, you're infuriating.”

  “I'm sorry.”

  Alex clenches his hand on my leg before leaning forward. We were already pretty close, and now his nose is brushing up against mine.

  Oh my God, he's going to kiss me.

  Did I want him to kiss me?

  Did I not want him to kiss me?

  Why isn't he kissing me?

  He's an inch away, his eyes still narrowed as they search my face. I don't know what he expects to find because I don't know how I feel right now.

  But he doesn't kiss me, instead he leans away and gently removes his hand from my leg. Even though a storm is raging in his eyes, he seems to be handling me with care.

  “Ice your leg then put a heat pack on it. It's going to be in pain for a bit. Don't overstretch it again. If it gets worse have Lila take you to the clinic to be seen by the physical therapist, okay?” Alex grumbles.

  I nod my head since the ability to speak has fled me.

  “Just get a hold of me when you want to resume dance practice.” His face twists up in disgust at the end. Alex stands up and moves quickly towards the door before disappearing without a backwards glance.

  I hate men. They're too confusing.

  And I hate myself, because a part of me wanted him to kiss me. And that part was supposed to be left alone long ago.

  Why couldn't that part just stay locked up tight?

  I fall backwards so I'm sprawled out on the floor before I reach for my bag and call Jesse. Maybe he'll give me sound advice.

  “Baby cakes!” his voice hollers. “What's shaking?”

  “I strained my hamstring,” I say sadly.

  Fun Jesse is replaced by Serious Jesse in a heartbeat. “Like you're not going to be able to dance on it?”

  “Might have to go easy for a few days, but nothing permanent.”

  “Then why do you sound like your world is ending?”

  “Alex.”

  Jesse pauses. “What about him?”

  “I think he tried to kiss me.”

  “Why would he do that?”

  That's a good question. “I don't know.”

  “Did you want him to kiss you?”

  “I don't know.”

  Jesse sighs heavily before asking, “Do you need a bag of sour gummy worms to make yourself feel better?”

  Tears sting my eyes and for the life of me I don’t know why. “I don't know.”

  “Shit,” I hear Jesse moving around. “If you're not hungry then it's seriously messed up. Give me three hours and I'll head up and come stay with you for the night. Maybe we’ll figure something out.”

  “But people think we're dating,” I blurt out.

  “And whose fault is that?”

  “Mine,” I say meekly.

  “I'll bring candy and we can watch a girly movie about stripper guys.”

>   I wrinkle my nose. “Why would I want to watch a movie about stripper guys?”

  “Babe,” Jesse huffs, “I'm pretending to be straight for you. You owe me.”

  Well, I can't exactly argue with that. “Okay,” I agree.

  “Then I can take a look at your new dance piece and see what needs work.”

  That actually sounded like a good idea. “That's fine. Maybe my leg will be okay by the time you're here.”

  “Is that what your football player told you to do?”

  I scowl at no one. “No.”

  “What did he say?”

  “To rest it.”

  “So rest it. We’ll do something else then.”

  “But I want to dance.”

  “My God, it's like arguing with a toddler anytime I speak with you,” he sighs heavily. “Just go lay down and ice your leg and then I'll be there and we can come up with a game plan.”

  “Sure thing.”

  Jesse makes an obnoxious kissing noise into the phone before hanging up on me.

  Great. Now to just find a way to get up off the floor.

  I stick out my leg to the side and push up on my elbows, staring down at my poor thigh in anger. The cramp is starting to subside and there's a good chance it's going to feel like a massive bruise more than anything for a few days.

  After a few more moments pondering how my life seems to have gone haywire ever since returning, I finally pull myself up off the floor. After grabbing my bag, I limp my way out of the building, earning curious stares from several people.

  There seems to be one thing that I forgot to think through, though: I have to walk by the football team entering the building next door that’s the gym.

  Gage waves with an overly enthusiastic smile and steps into the building as I pass. The glass front entrance let's me view the people on the inside, one of whom is glaring at me like I'm a parasite.

  Someone that I was fairly certain not even half an hour ago was going to kiss me.

  Heaven help me.

  I hobble faster by, hoping no one else is going to pause to talk to me. But as fortune would have it, the luck fairy doesn't seem to be on my side.

  Lila tilts her head at me as she steps away from Killian. Her eyes narrow as she looks from my leg to my face before asking, “What happened to you?”

  “I'm okay.”

  “Okay,” Lila echoes. “But I didn't ask if you were okay, I asked what happened.”

  I shuffle my feet with a wince and glance towards the gym quickly, “Extended my leg too far.”

  Lila doesn't miss a beat though, looking around me towards the gym. “What's going on?”

  “Baby doll,” Killian sighs. “I don't think it's really any of your business.”

  “She's my friend and she's acting weird. Plus she's limping. What kind of person would I be if I didn't make sure she was okay?” Lila tosses at Killian.

  He holds up his hands in mock surrender and shrugs his shoulders at me in a what can you do fashion.

  Ugh.

  “It's not a big deal,” I say. “I was doing a dance and extended farther than I should have. My body wasn't physically prepared to do it and now I'm limping because of it.”

  “Why did you look over there then?” Lila tilts her head towards the gym.

  Might as well get it out there. “Alex stopped by. He tried to help. We got in an argument.”

  “Oh, so, nothing unusual then?” Killian chuckles.

  Lila glares at him for a moment before looking at me. “Do I need to go in there and have a talk with him?”

  That causes me to snort. “What are you going to do? Threaten to beat him up?”

  “She's got a pretty good right arm,” Killian says proudly from behind Lila.

  “I'm not going to beat up Alex,” his girlfriend rolls her grey eyes. “I can just sternly yell very loudly and cause a scene and make him come out here and apologize if he wants me to stop.” She folds her arms across her chest with a defiant look crossing her face.

  “Thanks, but no thanks,” I hurry to say. “This time it's my fault. If anyone should be apologizing it should be me.”

  Lila loosens her arms and blinks slowly at me. “Are you messing with me?”

  “No.”

  Lila wrinkles her eyebrows. “You picked a fight with him?”

  I sigh. “Not intentionally, no. But by the time I apologized it was already out there. He's angry, he has a right to be, and I'm not going to demand he suck it up or accept my apology.”

  Killian lets out a low whistle. “If only every ex-girlfriend were that adult-like.”

  I give him a wry smile that only reaches the surface, inside I'm still wracked with guilt and confusion. “Guess I'm lucky.”

  But I don't feel lucky. I just feel sad.

  Lila kisses Killian goodbye as he joins the rest of the football team at the gym and then hooks her arm through her dangling strap on her backpack.

  “I have class or I'd offer to hang out,” she says.

  “It's fine,” I offer her a smile I hope makes her feel like everything is alright. “Just going to ice my leg.”

  She nods her head and walks away with slow steps. I don't wait around though, I quickly hobble as fast as I can back towards my apartment to get ready for some much needed quality time with my other best friend.

  Who just so happens to be my fake boyfriend.

  I'm the epitome of worst person.

  Chapter Nine

  Grace

  Jesse kicks his feet up on the table in my living room before shoving a handful of grapes into his mouth.

  “I want to do that,” he sighs.

  I glance up from icing my leg to the television where our movie is going. “What? Gyrate on strangers for money?”

  “No,” he scowls at me. “Do a little something-something with Channing Tatum.”

  “I think every person on this planet wants to do that.”

  “Pft,” Jesse gives me an evil smirk before adding, “except you. You'd rather do Alex Hunter.”

  I sigh dramatically and flick him on his arm. “Stop that. I do not.”

  “Uh-huh,” Jesse snorts. “See this face?” He points towards his chin. “This face doesn't believe you.”

  “This is so ridiculous.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Because I'm supposed to be a strong, independent woman who is focused only on her dancing career. Not on some football player.”

  Jesse runs his hand through his short blond locks and gives me a weary look. “Remind me again, for the billionth time, why you can't hook up with a jock and still dance?”

  My immediate reply feels more like a rehearsed line than something I truly put stock into believing. “It'll never work. Something will always be more important.”

  “Why does dance have to be more important than football?” Jesse shrugs. “I never got that part.”

  “Football was everything to him,” I grunt.

  “And dance is everything to you. So what? He's not allowed to be proud of his all-star athletic career and only you can? That's messed up, Grace.”

  It was, wasn't it?

  I guess that was part of the problem. Back in high school it was so much simpler to believe the world revolved around you. That it had to be about you. And I threw Alex into the category of doing exactly what I was doing: living for yourself.

  “I don’t like you very much,” I finally sigh.

  “Why? Because I’m right a majority of the time?”

  “Something like that.”

  Jesse blinks at me and sets the grape bowl aside that had been in his lap. “Have you been by to see your grandparents yet?”

  I fidget with a loose thread on the couch. “When I got here, I thought I would be over there every spare second I have. But any time I try and get the nerve to go, I chicken out. I don’t want to see Gramps in pain. And that’s so selfish considering I moved back here to be closer to him.”

  “Do you want me to go with you to see h
im? Would that make it easier?” he offers. And it's such a sweet gesture, but the part of me that's visualizing a picture of Gramps as frail and thin wins out over kindness.

  “No, thank you,” I give Jesse a smile that feels brittle on my face.

  “You don't want to put this off forever.”

  I heave a sigh. “You're right, I don't. I just want to put this off for now. There must be something else we can talk about.” I glance around the room while not really seeing anything. “Seriously, pick a new topic.”

  Jesse stares at me for a moment before letting out a sigh himself. He folds his arms across his chest and then balances one ankle on his knee. “Alex Hunter.”

  “No. Not that topic. We just discussed him anyways.”

  “It's a sub-thread then. Why are you afraid of him?”

  “I'm not.” I narrow my eyes and add, “He’s unreachable.”

  Jesse tips his chin down. “That's a new one. Unreachable how?”

  I wave my sweaty palms in the air. Stupid reaction to have just from talking about a guy. “Football is life.”

  Jesse clicks his tongue. “Nuh-uh, baby cakes, we already ruled on that topic thread. We're on a different one now.”

  What does he want me to say? Because if he's waiting for some magical moment where my life finds meaning in Alex Hunter's world, then he's going to be waiting around for a long time. And there was no way that I could come up with a way to fit Alex into my world.

  “Your brain is thinking awful fast, but the rest of you is reacting slower than snails on glue,” Jesse says.

  “Is there a right answer?”

  “Is there a wrong one?”

  Now, I just scowl at my best friend sitting beside me. “Why do we have to talk about this?”

  “Because you're here, in his world, walking around where the Hanson Hurricanes run this kingdom, and you're pretending all is right in the world. You came back here, you knew this could happen. What was the plan?”

  “There was no plan!” I snap. “I came back for Gramps.”

  Jesse drops his leg back down on to the floor. “If that were the whole story then you would've seen your grandfather by now.”

  He's not wrong. And I hate that fact.

  “Does Alex know about your grandfather?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Is Alex the kind of guy that would never speak to your family after a break up or still come around?”