Wanting More (Love on Campus #2)

by Jessica Ruddick

  “Fuck,” I said out loud to no one.

  “Fuck what?”

  My buddy Brad walked up with his girlfriend Amber in tow. Amber was actually Cori’s best friend. When their sorority, Alpha Delta, was paired with our fraternity for the year, a bunch of my brothers ended up dating Alpha girls. I wasn’t one of them. If I stayed with a girl two weeks that was a long time, and I was smart enough not to dip into the pool of girls I’d be forced to see all year.

  Drama wasn’t really my thing.

  “Hey.” I turned back to the fire.

  “Help me with the cooler.” Brad gestured to the house.

  I started to walk in that direction, but I had to stop to wait for Brad, who was making sure Amber was all tucked under a blanket in her camp chair before leaving.

  Fucking A. Things had changed around here. Even the cooler had changed. Instead of cheap beer, it was filled with fruity wine coolers. Chick drinks. This time last year, it would’ve been just us guys sitting around the fire. Now that Brad and Luke had other halves, they were attached to them at the hip. The guys had had girlfriends before, but these two were different.

  I liked them. Don’t get me wrong. Amber and Cori were great, especially Cori. But I kinda missed the good old days of getting drunk and doing stupid shit with the guys.

  Now they were all responsible and stuff.

  It kinda sucked.

  It really sucked.

  Which was the mindset that had gotten me on academic probation in the first place.

  Fuck.

  Maybe I should try to be a little more like my friends. Luke was focused on getting a summer internship, Brad was actually considering summer classes, and Cori was basically ruling the world. Seriously. That chick was going to be a badass lawyer someday.

  And I’d be what? Still stuck in college. If I was lucky.

  I snagged a beer from the cooler and sank into a chair strategically placed several feet away from Brad and Amber.

  I picked up my guitar and strummed a few chords, closing my eyes and focusing the on the feel of the nylon strings under my calloused fingertips. Music had always been my escape.

  “What’s that?” Cori appeared behind me, Luke behind her with two camp chairs over his shoulder.

  I smiled. “Nothing.” It was actually a song I’d been working on the last few weeks, one that I couldn’t get out of my head.

  I nodded to the cooler. “Beer’s cold.” I paused. “So’s the girly stuff.”

  Cori laughed, holding up her silver travel mug. “I’m sticking to hot chocolate. I’ve got a Miss New River thing tomorrow.”

  Remember that thing about Cori ruling the world? She’d just won the title of Miss New River Valley, and would soon be competing for Miss Virginia. Next step, Miss America, then the world. See what I’m talking about?

  Luke grinned and popped open a beer. “I don’t.”

  Cori sighed. “I wish I didn’t. I’m already behind in my classes.”

  Brad snorted. “So…what? You’ve only done the first two weeks’ assignments instead of the first three?”

  She blushed, like she always did when anyone teased her about her overachiever status. It was kind of a miracle we were friends. On the surface we had nothing in common.

  Except music. She was a great singer. And anyone who had a voice like that and could appreciate music the way she did was okay in my book.

  “I know for a fact she’s already started the reading for next week,” Amber chimed in.

  Cori cleared her throat. “Josh, play something.”

  I obliged, playing one of her favorites, “Landslide.”

  “I love that song,” she said when I was done.

  “I know.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “You do?”

  I nodded, leaning my guitar against my chair. I paid a lot more attention than people realized, than they gave me credit for.

  I tapped my hand on my knee to a beat running through my head. It was too still here. The happy couples seemed content enough to sit by the fire, and normally I would totally be up for being low key, but not tonight.

  I stood. “Does anyone want to go downtown? Maybe to Thirsties?”

  Cori shook her head. “I’ve got my thing tomorrow, remember?”

  I nodded, not bothering to ask Luke. He’d stick with Cori. “Brad? Amber?”

  Brad started to nod, then looked at Amber, who shook her head slightly.

  “No thanks, man,” Brad said.

  Whipped. Yeah, he’d hear about that later. What a punk.

  I grabbed my guitar and headed inside to change my shirt. On the way out, I stopped by Derek’s room. He was always up for going out, and tonight was no exception. I’d prefer to go with Brad and Luke, but like I said, these days those guys had other priorities. Derek would work as wingman in a pinch.

  The designated driver was nowhere to be found, so I drove and snagged a prime parking spot on the street a block from the bar. Chances were I’d have to leave the car there overnight—I didn’t plan to be in any shape to drive by closing time—but I’d worry about that later.

  It was early to be out, only nine, but it was already packed. Our normal table was taken, so we were forced to settle for a booth. A band was setting up on a makeshift stage. That was probably why it was so crowded. Thirsties didn’t usually have live music, instead relying on faulty speakers that shorted out half the time. A flier was stapled up above the bar—Under New Management. Well, that explained the band.

  I leaned my head back against the booth.

  “Hey, can you spot me?” Derek asked when the waitress came over to us.

  I nodded, mildly annoyed but not surprised. Derek was always broke. At least he had the good graces to order the cheap beer rather than top shelf.

  Derek caught the eye of a girl across the room, smiling and jerking his chin up. She waved and cut her way through the mob of people.

  “Hey, David,” she said.

  “It’s Derek,” he said, and I suppressed a smirk.

  She giggled and slid into the booth next to him. “Sorry!”

  “This is Josh,” Derek said, and I held out my hand, giving her my trademark grin. She smiled back, totally checking me out.

  “Sarah,” she said, taking my hand.

  “We have Economics together,” Derek explained.

  I nodded. I’d taken that class back when I was a business major.

  She waved at someone across the bar, motioning for whoever it was to come over. A blonde emerged from the crowd, carrying two beers. She sat next to me in the booth, and I slid over to make room.

  Sarah took the beer the girl handed her. “This place is nuts.”

  “Tell me about it.” The other girl took a sip of her beer. “It took me fifteen minutes at the bar.”

  I raised my eyebrows. That was surprising. It generally didn’t take long for pretty girls to get served at the bars around here.

  “This is Dav—Derek,” Sarah said, “and Josh. Guys, this is my roommate, Meredith.”

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” I said.

  Meredith choked a little on her beer, and a few drops dribbled down her chin. She put a hand up to her mouth, turning a cute shade of red.

  I pulled a napkin out of the dispenser in the middle of the table and raised it to her chin, dabbing gently.

  “Thanks,” she said, her cheeks turning even redder. She wouldn’t meet my eyes.

  Time to bring this cutie out of her shell.

  Here’s the thing: I’ve got the reputation of being a womanizer. I wasn’t deaf to the jokes about me and my “flavor of the week.” But it wasn’t like that. I mean, it was, sort of, but not in a bad way.

  I simply liked women. They’re intriguing. I just hadn’t found one who intrigued me beyond a few weeks.

  Here’s the other thing: I got props from all the other guys in my fraternity on my ability to reel in women. They all wanted to know my secret. The secret was there was no secret. The guys were just dumb.
Like right now—judging from the look on Sarah’s face, Derek was across the table probably spouting some lame pickup line. No doubt he would crash and burn by the end of the night. He was trying too hard. If you wanted a girl to be interested in you, then all you had to do was be interested in her. Like, genuinely interested.

  Most girls could see through the bullshit. Any who were worth their shit, anyway.

  “So what’s your major?” I asked.

  “Education,” Meredith said.

  “Elementary?”

  “I was. I actually just switched to early childhood.”

  I nodded. “So you want to be a preschool teacher?”

  She nodded, taking another sip of her beer. I realized she was using the bottle as a type of shield. She was seriously shy.

  “My stepmom is a preschool teacher.” That was true. That was pretty much all I knew about the woman, though.

  Meredith smiled. “Really?”

  “It seems like a fun job. Basically playing with little kids all day.”

  She grinned, setting down her bottle. “I know, right? I just love kids. What’s your major?”

  My smile faltered, just a little. “History.” Apparently. At least according to Ms. Welch.

  “What do you plan to do with that?”

  I rubbed the back of my neck. “Heck if I know.” That was about as honest as it got. I liked history, but what did one do with a history degree? Teach? Uh-uh. Not me.

  I really did need to see about changing my major.

  I grinned. “I’ll figure it out when I graduate.” Which, once again according to Ms. Welch, wasn’t happening anytime soon. Or ever.

  Just like our date that wouldn’t happen until pigs flew or hell froze over or whatever. Yeah, she wouldn’t say as much, but I could see those thoughts in her head. I wonder how much it would take to push her past those polite boundaries.

  I might have to find out. Maybe academic counseling wouldn’t be so bad after all. Could be kind of interesting to see Brianna Welch unravel.

  “I wish I could be brave like that,” Meredith said.

  “Brave?” I’d been called a lot of things, but brave wasn’t one of them.

  “Yeah.” She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “Just leaving things up to chance. Not knowing. My hometown is less than an hour from here. I’ve never been one to venture out. I wanted to go to NYU, and even got accepted, but when it came down to it, I couldn’t bring myself to go.”

  Our waitress rushed by the table with two bottles held between her fingers. She set them down without stopping. Damn. Maybe I should have ordered a pitcher. We probably wouldn’t be seeing her again any time soon.

  I wrapped my fingers around the bottle. For once I didn’t have anything to say. Brave. What a joke. Before this morning, I would have just laughed it off, made some funny comment. But what might have been funny yesterday wasn’t so funny today.

  The line between bravery and stupidity is thin. My dad had said that to me once, and it stuck. I couldn’t remember the circumstance. I was a kid and probably had just gotten myself into some kind of stupid and dangerous situation. I had been good at that.

  Hell, I was still good at it.

  I took a swig from my bottle and chuckled, not wanting to ruin the mood. The unruly piece of hair that Meredith had just tucked behind her ear had freed itself, so I gently took it in my fingers.

  “You’re cute, you know that?”

  Not as cute as a certain academic counselor, but at least Meredith didn’t have a tree-size stick lodged firmly up her ass.

  And why was it there, anyway? Damn if I didn’t want to find out.

  Meredith blushed, looking down and running her fingers over her hair where mine had just been. “Thanks.”

  I settled back into the booth, my eyes on the girl in front of me. Why the hell was I still thinking about my damn counselor? There were plenty of other girls—like Meredith—who didn’t think I was the slacker scum of the Earth.

  Brave, stupid, whatever you wanted to call it—at least I knew how to have a good time.

  Chapter Three

  Bri

  “He was unbelievable, Casey. I can’t even put it into words.” I swirled my straw around in my water. We were sitting in our favorite booth at the Bookstore. The Bookstore wasn’t a real bookstore, though. I think it used to be years ago, but now it was a hole in the wall diner/bar with shady lighting and mouthwatering nachos. It was also the establishment of choice for grad students. Most of us worked with the undergrads in some fashion, either as a teaching assistant or, like me, an academic counselor, so we steered clear of the mainstream bars, preferring to stay in our little darkened pseudo literary cave.

  “You have put it into words,” Casey said drily. “You’ve been talking about him for the last ten minutes.”

  I made a face, but subtly checked my watch. She was right. Dang.

  “It was just so frustrating,” I said in my defense.

  “Yeah, you mentioned that a time or two.”

  “I mean, this kid is obviously smart, but he’s lazy as anything.”

  Casey rolled her eyes. “Isn’t this ‘kid’ a junior? So that makes him like, what? A year younger than you?”

  “Academically, he’s a sophomore,” I muttered. “But yeah, probably.” I was young to be a grad student. My birthday was in August, so I wouldn’t turn twenty-three for another seven months.

  “What’d you say when he asked you out?”

  “What do you mean?”

  Casey grinned. “I bet he’s hot. Anyone with the guts to ask you out like that has to be.”

  I stuck out my chin in indignation. “I didn’t notice if he was hot.” That was a lie. Josh Davidson, with his sandy hair that fell in waves on his forehead and his clear blue eyes, was definitely hot. It was more than that, though—he carried himself with a confidence that was enviable. So forgive me if I tried to knock him down a few notches.

  “Did you say yes? When’s the date?”

  “No, I didn’t say yes! I’m with Brett, remember?” As the words left my mouth, my stomach clenched at the pseudo-lie. Sure, I had Brett for now, but things had been off between us for a while, and the distance didn’t help. “Besides, I’m his academic counselor. I shouldn’t even be talking about this to you.”

  Guilt immediately and intensely washed over me. It was beyond unprofessional to discuss students on my caseload, but my interaction with Josh Davidson was like that teacher at my high school who went on a spring break trip with her students and then wound up pregnant—it begged to be talked about.

  Something about him got under my skin. Like a splinter. Or a fungus.

  “Don’t worry,” Casey said. “It’s not like you told me his name or anything.”

  True. Still, I’d never discussed any of my cases before. Granted, none of them had ever asked me out and then kissed my hand. That didn’t make it right, though.

  “Anyway,” I said, changing the subject, “Brett is coming this weekend.”

  Casey leaned back in her chair, and I could have sworn a look of distaste crossed her face.

  “So I guess I won’t see you at my party, then.”

  I frowned. “Why do you say that?”

  She leaned her elbows on the table. “Come on, Bri. You know Brett won’t want to come.”

  I shook my head. “That’s not true.”

  “Oh-kay.” She stood up. “I’m going to the ladies’.”

  I leaned back. She’d never come right out and said it, but she didn’t like Brett, which was why I hadn’t talked to her about the problems in our relationship. Truth be told, Brett didn’t seem to like her much either—or any of my friends, really. He always complained whenever I wanted us to spend time with them, but I’d already told him about the party, and he’d promised he’d go this time.

  If he showed up at all.

  Anger burned in my gut. He’d canceled the last two weekend visits. Now that he was out in the “real world” working full time,
it was like I didn’t even know him anymore. He’d changed. And I wasn’t quite sure what to do about it yet. This weekend might very well determine the fate of our future together.

  I drummed my fingers on the table.

  Casey walked back to our table, phone in hand. “Hey, my little sister is at Thirsties. I told her I’d swing by.”

  I almost asked what little sister? She was an only child. Then I remembered—Casey’s little sister in her sorority. Alpha something or other. Even though Casey was no longer active now that she was a grad student, she still kept in touch.

  “I thought we were hanging out.” I winced at the whining undertones in my voice.

  She tucked her phone into her back pocket. “We are. Come with me.”

  “I don’t know…” I hesitated, trying to think of a good excuse for not going. “It’s going to be crowded.”

  “No, it won’t. It’s still early.” She shrugged into her coat, pulling a knit hat over her hair. “Come on, Bri. Natalie’s waiting for me.”

  “Okay,” I grumbled.

  I hated Thirsties. That was where all the “cool kids” hung out. I never felt like I belonged there as an undergrad, and now as a grad student, I knew I didn’t belong.

  My stomach slipped down to my knees as we walked the few blocks to the bar. When we turned the corner to see a line a people waiting to get in, my stomach fell to my feet. Once we got in and I saw the wall-to-wall people inside, my stomach was on the floor, getting trampled.

  I stopped short inside the doorway and my foot was nearly impaled by the stilettos of the girl behind me.

  “Ugh. Get out of the way.” She pushed past me, and I caught a whiff of perfume and hair spray.

  Casey looked over her shoulder and reached back to grab my hand. “Come on, Bri.”

  “Sorry,” I muttered, willing my feet to uproot themselves from the floor.

  She wove in and out of the throng of people, keeping hold of my hand. I trailed behind her, careful not to bump into anyone.

  I’d never felt so out of place. I was wearing jeans, a sweater, and boots, which was the perfect attire for the Bookstore, but Thirsties was like a fashion show. Girls were done up to the nines—past the nines, actually. More like to the tens. Hair was contorted into gravity defying curls, eyelashes were impossibly long, and heels were dangerously skinny and high.