Claire (Hart University Book 2)

by Abigail Strom

There was more to my life than football. Some things I knew about already; others I still had to figure out.

  I scrambled to my feet and went upstairs for a little privacy. Then I called my house.

  “Will! I’m so glad you called. Happy Thanksgiving!”

  “Happy Thanksgiving, Mom. I’m sorry for calling so late.”

  “That’s all right. Did you get any turkey?”

  It was just like her to sound sweet and cheerful and to give me a pass on the way I’d been acting lately… and the way I’d been blowing her off.

  “Yeah, I did. My friends ended up buying all this food and cooking a huge dinner.”

  “That sounds lovely. And you had a good time?”

  “Yeah. But that’s not why I called.”

  I hesitated for a moment, and my mom didn’t rush to fill the silence. That’s another thing I love about her.

  “So, you know how you said you weren’t going to let me get a second opinion or transfer to another school?”

  “Yes.”

  “I just wanted to say that I get where you’re coming from. I’m thinking about what you said. And… I’m sorry for the way I’ve been acting.”

  Pause.

  “Oh, Will.”

  “Mom, are you crying? If you are, cut it out. Go get Alex, will you? I need to apologize to him, too.”

  “I’m walking the phone downstairs now. Oh, Will, I love you so much.”

  “I know. I love you, too, Mom.”

  After I hung up with Alex I went back downstairs. People were starting to get ready to go, and Claire was still asleep on the couch.

  Dyshell looked up when I walked over. “Would you mind taking over for me as pillow? I need to use the bathroom before we take off.”

  “Sure,” I said, taking Dyshell’s place and letting Claire curl up against me.

  There was nowhere else on earth I’d rather be.

  Claire wanted to be single for a while to focus on herself. I needed to do that, too. I needed some time to figure out the next phase of my life.

  And then?

  Then we’d see.

  I wasn’t going to pressure Claire to be with me, but I wasn’t going to give up, either. And I was going to be the best damn friend I could, because that’s what she deserved—and because I wanted her in my life any way I could have her.

  If friendship was what we ended up with, I’d take it and be grateful.

  But when the time was right, I’d let Claire know I wanted a hell of a lot more.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  The next few months were pretty good.

  I didn’t see much of Will in December, but we were both busy with finals. He pulled himself together and aced most of his, which made me really happy. Then, of course, came Christmas and winter break.

  During the week between Christmas and New Year, Will and I got into the habit of texting every night. Nothing sexy or even flirtatious—just friend stuff, sometimes funny and sometimes serious.

  It was the best part of my day.

  When we came back to Hart in January, Will was in a really good place. He enrolled in a journalism class and did a few pieces on college athletics for the Hart Star, and when one of his articles got some national attention, he started talking about being a sports writer.

  I was in a good place, too. I liked my classes and my songwriting was going well, and the band was sounding sharper and tighter every day.

  “We need an original love song from you,” was their only complaint.

  We covered some romantic ballads in our regular set list, but I hadn’t contributed anything of my own on that theme. I’d written a bunch of angry post-breakup songs, along with a few cynical love sucks-type tunes, but I hadn’t ventured into the positive side of romance since before my breakup with Ted.

  Well, except for a song I’d been working on since Thanksgiving. A song I had no intention of ever sharing with anyone.

  Will and I started hanging out a lot once the new semester started. He was always the person I wanted to share good news with, and the person I wanted to comfort me if I had a shitty day. We still texted every night before bed.

  It seemed like we were building towards something—something really good. I started waiting for Will to bring it up, to talk about moving our relationship forward.

  But the days went by and nothing happened.

  Then it was February, and my dad and Jenna came to Hart for a visit. My dad made dinner reservations and told me to invite a friend, and Will was the one I picked.

  He showed up at the restaurant in a jacket and tie.

  “What’s all this?” I asked, waving my hand at his suit while we followed my dad and Jenna inside.

  “I want your folks to like me,” he said with a grin.

  They didn’t like him.

  They loved him.

  “Claire told us about the article you wrote for your school newspaper,” my dad said over dessert. “About college athletes and concussion?”

  Will nodded. “Claire helped me with the medical research. She’s going to be an amazing doctor.”

  My dad looked pleased by that. “She said the article was reprinted in student papers around the country.”

  Will nodded again. “The NCAA is taking a look at their concussion guidelines. I’m going to be part of a student group that will talk to them this spring. I’m not sure what the right answer is to the concussion problem, but I know we have to be asking more questions.”

  “Well,” my dad said. “I think student athletes will have a good advocate in you.”

  It was the best dinner-with-the-parents ever. Every girl’s dream of the perfect first meeting between her boyfriend and her family.

  Except, of course, that Will wasn’t my boyfriend.

  “Are you coming to Boston tomorrow?” Jenna asked. “To see Claire’s band?”

  That was the reason my dad and Jenna were in town. The Red Mollies were doing an east coast tour, and they were playing a Boston club tomorrow night.

  Sugar Lane was opening for them.

  It was our biggest gig ever. My dad was going to be there, and most of my Bracton friends—including Will.

  “I wouldn’t miss it,” he said now. “I love seeing Claire perform. She’s electric.”

  Now it was Jenna’s turn to look pleased. “Yes, she is.”

  I was starting to feel embarrassed. “I’m not electric.”

  Will frowned. “Are you kidding?”

  I shrugged. “Even if I am, that’s just my musical persona or whatever. It’s easy to be all kickass when it’s just an act.”

  Jenna started to say something, but Will got there first.

  “Or maybe that’s who you really are, and you just need to let yourself be that person in the rest of your life.”

  There was a short silence. Then:

  “Thank you,” Jenna said to him. “That’s what I’ve been telling her.”

  Yeah, he hit that dinner out of the park.

  “Tell me again why you two aren’t dating?” Jenna asked me when we went to the restroom.

  I didn’t have an answer for her.

  The truth was, I’d been waiting for Will to make a move. To say, The time has come. Let us be boyfriend and girlfriend and ride off into the sunset.

  But he didn’t.

  I started to worry that our window of opportunity had closed. I’d felt good about my decision to stay single last semester, but now that Will was doing so great and I felt ready to be part of a couple—to be with Will—I wasn’t sure he felt the same way anymore.

  Of course that had been the risk all along. Sometimes people don’t sync up, Will had said.

  Maybe we would never sync up. Maybe we were meant to stay friends.

  But every time I thought that, Will would touch me. He’d bump my shoulder or give me a hug, and my knees would turn to jelly.

  That is not the response of a friend.

  Okay, so, maybe I should make the move. I mean, I’d been the one to put the b
rakes on at Thanksgiving, right?

  I’d thought about all the ways I could do it. I could just grab him and kiss him, of course. I could ask him out on a date or something formal like that. Or…

  Or nothing.

  The more I thought about it, the more nervous I felt. What if Will didn’t feel the same way anymore? What if he didn’t want things to change? If I fucked this up, the stakes were really high.

  I’d lose my best friend.

  The more time went by, the less willing I felt to take responsibility for that.

  It would be much better to wait for Will to make the move. That way, it wouldn’t be my fault if everything got messed up.

  * * *

  Jocelyn had a van, which made her Sugar Lane’s de facto transport. After we got the instruments stowed inside we had room for one more, so Tamsin traveled with the band to Boston the next day.

  The two of us sat in the back together. Tamsin showed me the tattoo she’d gotten last week—a red heart on her ankle.

  “I really like it,” I said. “Maybe I’ll get one, too. I feel like I should have tattoos, you know? I’m supposed to be a musician.”

  “You are a musician,” Tamsin corrected me. She paused. “So, it’s February.”

  “That is undeniably true.”

  “The Semester of Us is officially over.”

  “It’s been over for two months.”

  “Yes, it has. Are you ready to fall off the wagon?”

  I thought about it. “Are you?”

  “Nope.”

  I stared at her. “Seriously?”

  “Seriously. I’m thinking about a Year of Us. Or at least a Year of Me,” she added. “I mean, I don’t expect you to stay single and celibate your entire sophomore year.” She grinned. “Especially since, if you’ll excuse my mentioning it, Will McKenna is about as crazy in love with you as any guy I’ve ever seen.”

  Just like that, goose bumps swept over my entire body.

  “I think I’m in love with him, too,” I whispered.

  “Yeah. That’s pretty fucking obvious.”

  I stuck my tongue out at her.

  “So why the hell aren’t you doing anything about it?” she asked.

  I sighed. “Because I’m scared?”

  “Sure. But do you think you’re going to be any less scared tomorrow? Or next week, or next month, or—”

  “Okay,” I said, stopping her. “I get it.”

  “I’m just saying. Life is short and whatnot.”

  “That’s very profound.”

  “I’m a fountain of profundity.” She paused and looked out the back window. “Hey, we’re here! Are you guys ready for the big time?”

  * * *

  It turns out there isn’t enough deodorant in the world to prepare you for your band’s first major gig.

  But once we got through our first song, I knew it was going to be okay.

  Part of that was seeing all our friends in the audience. Rikki and Sam, Julia and Dyshell, Izzy and Mena and what looked like every resident of Bracton—along with the entire Panthers football team.

  Among the other reasons for Sugar Lane to feel proud tonight, we could now claim credit for bringing the art geeks and the athletes of Hart University together in one place.

  Will was there, too. I kept seeing his face in the crowd, and every time I did, my heart glowed brighter and I sang harder.

  Then, when we were close to the end of the set, I saw him again. He was dancing like a maniac—with Becky.

  I finished that song on autopilot, and the next one, too. I felt like my heart had been sucked out of my body. I managed to get through the rest of the set, but even though the crowd cheered and the band was ecstatic as we left the stage, Jenna knew something was up.

  “Are you okay?” she asked me as she was getting ready to go on with the Mollies. “You guys were fantastic, but you seemed a little tense at the end there. Did all the excitement catch up with you?”

  “Maybe,” I said, using the towel she’d handed me to wipe the sweat from my eyes. “It was awesome, though. We’ll never forget the night we opened for the Red Mollies.”

  She gave me a quick hug. “I have a feeling the Mollies are going to remember the night they shared a stage with you. Congratulations, kiddo. Sugar Lane rocked the house.”

  As soon as she took the stage with her band, the crowd erupted. Jocelyn, Milton and Burns went out into the club to be part of it, and I told them I’d join them in a minute.

  But I didn’t. Instead, I stood in the shadows and watched Will.

  He wasn’t with Becky anymore. I saw her over by the bar, laughing and dancing with Andre and Dyshell. Will was up front near the stage, in the crush of fans dedicated enough to get that close.

  Once the song was over and Jenna was introducing the next one, I saw Will turn and scan the room.

  Was he looking for me?

  And then, in that moment, I realized something.

  I could spend the next week or month or year asking myself questions like that. Was Will looking for me? How did he feel about me now? Did he still want me? Was he interested in someone else?

  Or I could take a chance and tell him how I felt.

  I went backstage and waited for what Jenna called the “breather” song. That was the one near the middle of the set when each musician had a solo. After she finished her guitar jam, Jenna came off stage to gulp down some water.

  That’s when I grabbed her.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  The Red Mollies were awesome, but I couldn’t fall into the music the way I’d fallen into Claire’s set.

  Of course if Claire were with me it would be different. I kept looking for her, and even though the club was a madhouse I couldn’t understand why I didn’t find her.

  She’d looked a little stressed out during her last few songs. Was she feeling sick? Should I try to get backstage and look for her?

  Then Jenna took the microphone.

  “Okay, everybody, we’re going to change things up a little. I’d like to invite Claire Stone back onstage to perform a new song. She’s never played it in public before, so this is something special for the people here tonight.”

  The moment Claire came out I forgot everything else. The heat and the people jostling me faded into the background, and the only thing that existed was Claire.

  She was nervous, although I didn’t think anyone but me would pick up on that. I could tell from the way she held her guitar—a little tighter than usual—and the way she bit her lower lip before she spoke into the microphone.

  “Hi, everybody.” She paused. “This is a love song. The guy I wrote it for is here tonight, so… it seemed like a good time to play it.”

  That was her whole introduction. She took a deep breath, looked down at her guitar, and started to play.

  I heard the music more than the words. It was gorgeous, like everything Claire wrote, but it was more than just a beautiful melody.

  A hundred different things were in that song. Her hands on me after the season opener, healing the damage from the game. Tigger and Piglet and the way we could talk about anything. Listening to the falling snow, and the way we could be silent.

  The night we’d spent together.

  When she was done I didn’t even clap, although I was glad everyone else did. Claire left the stage and I just stood there like an idiot, my heart thumping against my ribs, until she found me a few minutes later and pulled me away from the crowd.

  “Hey,” I said, looking down at her.

  “Hey.”

  I waited a moment, and so did she.

  Then I cleared my throat. “So. Was that song about me?”

  One side of her mouth quirked up. “Please tell me you already know the answer to that question.”

  There were a lot of things I could have said—some of them clever, some of them cautious. But what came out was,

  “I love you.”

  Claire’s eyes widened. “Oh, Will.” There were tears on
her lashes, and she blinked them away. “I love you, too.” She took a deep breath. “I love you so much.”

  And then I pulled her into my arms and kissed her.

  We were standing in the shadows at the edge of the dance floor, occupying our own little bubble of privacy.

  But even if we’d been on stage under a spotlight, I would have done exactly the same thing.

  Author’s Note

  Thank you so much for reading Claire. I hope you enjoyed it, and I hope you’ll join me as the series continues. (And if you haven’t read Rikki yet, I invite you to check it out!)

  Get ready for junior year at Hart University! Tamsin is coming soon, so be sure to sign up for my newsletter to receive release day announcements.

  The Hart University series:

  Rikki (Freshman year)

  Claire (Sophomore year)

  Tamsin (Junior year - coming soon)

  Julia (Senior year - coming soon)

  Other Titles by Abigail Strom

  Winning the Right Brother (fun fact – this was my first published romance, and it tells the story of Will’s mother and stepfather.)

  The Almost Like Love series:

  Almost Like Love

  Nothing Like Love

  Anything But Love

  The Landry family series:

  The Millionaire’s Wish

  Cross My Heart (another fun fact – this is the love story between Claire’s father and Jenna Landry!)

  Waiting for You

  Into Your Arms

  All my series books can be read as standalones. Learn more at abigailstrom.com.

  And if you’re a fan of steamy paranormal romance, you might enjoy the Blood and Absinthe series I write as Chloe Hart:

  Taming the Vampire (free at all retailers!)

  Bound by the Vampire

  Claiming the Vampire

  Drawn to the Vampire

  Caught by the Wolf

  You can learn more at authorchloehart.com.

  Acknowledgements

  Thanks as always to Mikel Strom and Tara Gorvine for their help, encouragement, and endless patience, and to my mother for her general awesomeness. Thanks to Sarah Hansen (Okay Creations) for her gorgeous cover and the folks at Victory Editing for their eagle eyes. And finally, an epic thank-you to my readers, who are the reason I write.