I tried to take it back, but he held it out of my reach. “You don’t have to pay for me,” I said, then lowered my voice. “It’s not like this is a date.”
Even though I wish it were. I was sad the night was over. Even though it most certainly wasn’t a date, it was the best night I’d had with a guy in years. Or ever.
Apparently I hadn’t lowered my voice enough, because I could tell by the way Cori and Amber stilled that they were listening intently. So much for being discreet. Of course, I got the impression that not much that happened with these guys got past those two.
“I insist,” Josh said, handing his credit card to the server without even looking at the bill. “You really helped us out tonight.”
A small part of me deflated. His paying the check was like paying for services rendered. The cost of driving one crazy drunk girl home? A late night stack of pancakes.
But what did I expect? It wasn’t like Josh was going to confess his undying love to me simply because I did him and his brothers a favor.
“It was no big deal,” I said. “Anyone could have driven her home. Well, any female, anyway.”
“Probably,” Josh agreed. “But another female didn’t do it. You did.”
I fought a blush and looked down, fiddling with the silverware that was left on the table. Driving a drunk girl home and hauling her up the stairs to her dorm room was not how I had planned to spend my night. Neither was staying at Waffle Hut until three in the morning. In fact, if things had gone according to plan, I would’ve left the party at precisely the two-hour mark, and I wouldn’t have even been there when everything happened.
Josh had said he wanted me to let my hair down. I guess I had—as much as I ever did, anyway. I’d never been a big drinker. My one foster father had taken away any desire I might have developed for alcohol.
Another reason I rarely drank was that I was scared of what my DNA held. I knew very little about my birth parents, but I did know that Child Protective Services took me from them when I was two. My imagination had run wild over the years as to why CPS got involved. Who knew? I could be the child of alcoholics or drug addicts or worse. I had no desire to find out.
We exited the restaurant to the parking lot, and the two couples immediately hopped into Brad’s car. Josh stood by my car door, and I fumbled with my clicker, accidentally setting off the panic alarm.
“Crap,” I muttered, trying to find the right button to turn it off. Why was it that those things were so easy to set off, yet I could never seem to press the right button to make it stop?
Josh looked at me with an expression I couldn’t read. Was he going to hug me? Should I hug him? This wasn’t a date, but ending up at a restaurant with two other couples sure made it feel like one.
I found myself swaying toward him, my body betraying me, wanting to be pressed up against him with his arms wrapped around me.
“I should get going,” I said, fumbling with my keys again.
Josh reached around me, and for a second I thought he might be making a move, but instead he opened my door for me. When I was safely inside, he shut it. He leaned down, so I lowered my window.
“Hey, can you, uh, text me when you get home?” he said sheepishly. “I just want to make sure you get there safely.”
“Sure.”
“Sorry. I know you’re an adult and everything, but—”
“Josh, it’s fine.” It was actually kind of sweet. He cares.
His face was only inches from mine, and I could feel the heat of his breath in the frigid air. My eyes met his, and I saw a look in them I didn’t recognize. He’d never looked at me like that before.
No one had looked at me like that before.
My gaze traveled to his lips. God, I’d never noticed how full they were. They had a slight gleam to them—he’d just put on ChapStick. Was it flavored?
Only a few more inches and I could find out. I closed my eyes so I wouldn’t be tempted. Clearing my throat, I retreated into the safety of my car.
“See you Monday?”
He stepped back from the window, his face twisted in a grimace. “Yeah, Monday.”
Dang! Why did I have to bring up the tutoring? It killed whatever this was between me and Josh.
Good. That was a good thing. I was losing sight of reality. We weren’t dating, and we never would. Never should. I was his academic counselor, and it was best that I reminded us both of that.
I rolled up my window and pulled my seat belt across my chest. As I latched it, there was a knock at my window.
I rolled it down. “Did you forget some—”
Josh quickly snaked his hand around to the back of my neck and leaned in, touching his lips to mine. I gasped in surprise, and he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss. His lips gently sucked at my bottom lip, and tingles ran down my spine into my toes, then shot back up again into my head, making me dizzy.
My eyes closed, and I leaned into him only slightly, an invitation. He nipped at my upper lip with his teeth, and I could taste the beer from earlier in the evening on his breath.
When he pulled back, he left me wanting more.
I stared at him, breathless, speechless, my eyes wide.
He ran his thumb over my lips and said, “Drive safely.”
Then he squeezed himself into the backseat of Brad’s car with Luke and Cori.
I sat for a moment, trying to catch my breath. I left the window open—the cold air felt good against my flushed cheeks. With both hands on the steering wheel, I concentrated on breathing.
What just happened?
Brad’s car idled next to me, and I realized they were waiting for me to leave first, so I backed out of my space.
I drove home in a daze, putting my fingertips to my lips at every stoplight.
What just happened?
And why is my body still tingling?
True to my word, I texted Josh as soon as I parked in front of my apartment building, then I sat there for a few moments still in a daze.
What just happened?
Josh kissed me.
And I liked it.
I can’t be his counselor anymore was a thought that absurdly popped into my head. I can’t be his counselor and feel tingles when he kisses me.
When he kisses me.
Would there be another? Or was this just a one-time, caught-up-in-the-moment thing? More importantly, did I want there to be another?
The tingles were my answer.
I sat for another moment in my car, hugging myself and running a finger over my lips where his had been.
His ChapStick wasn’t flavored.
I giggled, thinking about how I came by that information. Josh made me giddy. I could drown in my own giddiness, and I wouldn’t mind, not if it involved kissing Josh.
But not now. For now, I was going upstairs to brush my teeth and go straight to bed. I’d have to set an alarm, though. As much as I wanted to, I couldn’t sleep the whole day away. I had work to do. It was almost four now, so if I got up at eleven, I would still get seven hours of sleep. Even though I normally liked to catch up on my sleep on the weekends, seven hours would have to do.
Tomorrow. I’d think about everything tomorrow when I was rational and not high on hormones. Josh made all of my senses sit up and pay attention.
I unlocked my door, locked it behind me, and then hung my coat and keys on the hook behind the front door.
“So you finally decided to come home.”
My hand flew to my chest, and I nearly jumped out of my skin. My blood was pounding through my veins. I scratched at the wall to find the light switch.
My visitor beat me to it.
A lamp clicked on in the living room to show Brett sitting on the couch.
A little laugh escaped my lips, a nervous reaction. “Holy crap, Brett. You scared me.” I leaned against the wall and forced my hands to remain at my sides instead of covering my mouth in guilt. Could he tell that I’d kissed someone?
Then I dismissed the thought. We were done.
I’d broken up with him. I didn’t owe him anything, not even an explanation as to why Josh’s kiss excited me more than his ever had.
I put my hands on my hips. “What are you doing here, anyway?”
I wanted to add, and why are you sitting in the dark like a creeper? The dim light of the lamp cast shadows over his face. I couldn’t see his eyes.
“I got off work early, so I thought I’d drive down so we could sort through our little misunderstanding.”
I crossed my arms. “What misunderstanding?”
“You know what misunderstanding. From the last time we talked, when you were so pissy. You’ve had plenty of time to cool off and get over it.”
“Brett,” I said slowly. “It wasn’t a misunderstanding. I mean, I guess you misunderstood me, but I broke up with you.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” He took a step toward me, and I instinctively took a step back. It’d been almost two months since I’d last seen him, and he was like a stranger to me. He’d never been this menacing before. He took another step, and his eyes came into view. They were hard and cold.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. This was Brett, the man I’d spent two years with. He was understandably upset over our breakup. Maybe I did owe it to him to at least talk about it.
But it would have to wait until tomorrow. I was exhausted, and he needed to get a hold of himself before we could have this conversation.
“I’m really tired. Can we talk about this in the morning? You’re welcome to sleep on the couch.”
“I’m not sleeping on the couch. I’ll sleep in your bed, where I belong.”
“I don’t think so,” I said firmly. “You can’t just waltz in here after neglecting our relationship for the last six months and expect everything to be okay. We’re done, Brett. We gave the long distance thing our best shot, and—”
Suddenly, I was flung to the floor by what felt like an explosion on my cheek. My eye felt like it was simultaneously throbbing and rattling around in its socket. My vision went black, then slowly returned, dotted with specks of white.
I put my hand up to my face.
Did he just…? He hit me. I can’t believe he hit me.
“Where were you tonight?” he yelled.
I stood slowly, my hand still covering my cheek and eye as I fully regained my vision.
“You hit me.”
This couldn’t be happening. It was like an out-of-body experience.
“Answer the question.” His authoritative tone snapped me back to reality. Who did he think he was?
“None of your business!” I yelled back at him.
He lashed out at me again, and though I saw it coming, I was still disoriented and didn’t move out of the way fast enough. His fist deflected off my fingers a little, but my cheekbone and eye socket rattled, then filled with an incredible pressure.
My ears were ringing, my eyes watering as my vision went black again. I crouched on the floor on my knees, covering my face while I waited for my vision to return.
“Did you cheat on me? Why were you out until almost four in the goddamn morning?”
“Get out,” I whispered.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
I lifted my head to stare up at him, but I didn’t stand. “I’ll scream. These walls are paper-thin. Everyone will hear, and someone will come. You’ll get arrested.” It wasn’t an empty threat. He was bigger and stronger than me, so I had no chance of physically fighting him off. I had to make him listen to reason.
He stilled for a moment. “You wouldn’t do that to me. You wouldn’t have me arrested.”
“Don’t test me.” It took all of my resolve to make my voice strong, to keep it from shaking. “Just leave. Leave now, please.” When he stayed in the middle of my living room, hands on his hips, I screamed at him. “Leave!”
“Fuck this.” He grabbed his coat off the couch and shrugged into it. “I drove all this way to see you, and this is how you treat me?” He looked down at me, his expression a mix of disgust and disinterest. “You’ll regret this.”
He slammed the door behind him, and I scurried over to it to lock it. Then I collapsed on the floor in front of it, sobbing.
…
I stayed huddled on my bed for the rest of the night, a frozen pack of peas on my eye and a frying pan in my hand. It was the closest I had to a weapon. I’d wedged chairs under the doorknobs of both the front door and my bedroom, but that didn’t ease my paranoia.
Stupid, stupid, stupid. Part of this was my fault. He had a key to my apartment, and getting it back hadn’t even occurred to me, nor had it occurred to me to ask management to change the locks.
That was the first phone call I was making Monday morning. Fool me once, shame on him. Fool me twice… Well, you know how the saying went. Let’s just say I wasn’t about to be fooled again.
How could I have missed the signs? Violence like that didn’t come out of nowhere. Was he always controlling and violent, and I never noticed? He’d always been somewhat possessive, but I’d never minded. I’d even thought it was romantic. It was nice to feel so needed and wanted.
In all my years in the foster system, I’d never been physically abused. Some of the homes where I’d been placed had been sketchy, but I’d never felt unsafe. Unwanted, maybe, but never in danger.
I’d had no control of my life when I was a child, and then what did I do as an adult? Attach myself to someone like Brett. For two years. I’d invited the violence into my life.
I didn’t have the energy to beat myself up over it right now. I’d been awake for twenty-four hours, and I needed to pack. Until those locks were changed, I wasn’t staying here.
As sunlight began to make its appearance for the day, I threw clothes in a bag, along with my toiletries. There were several hotels in town, and even though check-in wasn’t usually until the afternoon, maybe they’d let me in early since they more than likely had a slew of vacancies.
The clerk at the front desk of the hotel looked at me strangely. Actually, he looked anywhere but my face. I guess he was trying not to stare. God, it must look bad. I hadn’t had the courage to look in a mirror yet. He must have felt sorry for me though, because even though they “don’t normally do this,” he checked me into a room at eight thirty a.m.
My first order of business was to take a shower. I’d been too scared to take one before, just in case Brett came back, and I felt dirty, grimy.
It was there in the bathroom that I made the mistake of looking in the mirror. My left eye was bloodshot, the skin around it swollen and turning purple. I gingerly touched it with my fingertips and hissed at the pain.
Ever since I’d barricaded myself in my bedroom earlier, I’d been on autopilot. Keeping myself safe had been my only concern. Now that I saw what he’d done to me, I broke.
I’d thought I knew him.
I’d loved him.
I’d given my virginity to him.
Until recently, I’d thought I’d marry him some day.
I felt like such a sucker, a fool.
I let the tears flow, let them be washed down the drain as scalding hot water poured over me. If only the water could wash away my stupidity.
Chapter Eleven
Josh
I rolled over and squinted to look at the clock. Almost one in the afternoon. I pulled the sheet over my face to block out the light streaming in from the window. If I was smart, I would get up and close the blinds. That would require way too much effort, though.
I felt like I was hung over, but not from drinking—from dreaming. Was that even possible? I slept like shit, mainly because I kept having these wicked dreams about Bri where she was wearing a Catholic schoolgirl uniform, except every time I tried to talk, she’d rap my knuckles with a damn ruler. Then it started raining paper, but not just any paper—copies of that stupid personality test. Bri grabbed one out of the air and wrote a big fat F on it in red Sharpie.
Even an idiot could figure out the symbolism—I wanted Bri t
o like me, and I guess my subconscious was scared she didn’t.
Shit. I sat up and put my head in my hands. I didn’t need a dream to tell me that my interest in Bri had shifted. In the beginning, all I wanted to do was get under her skin because she irritated the shit out of me with all her talk about study skills and graduation requirements.
Now I wanted to get under her skin in a different way.
This wasn’t right.
In the light of day, I could see that. When was the last time I’d been on a date? Not since last semester. That was my problem. I saw Bri on a regular basis, so she’d become the target of my thoughts.
That and her damn bedroom eyes and tight dress.
Last night, I’d gotten caught up, thinking there could possibly be something between us, thinking that I might want something between us.
Do I?
I ran my hands through my hair. Christ.
I liked this chick. She’d looked so sweet and innocent and sexy and ravishing as she’d sat in her car last night. And all at the same time. How was that even possible? Most girls could pull off maybe one or two of those looks, but not Bri. She somehow managed to pull off all of them simultaneously and without even meaning to.
So I’d kissed her. How could I not? She was just so fucking…irresistible.
Fuck me.
The one girl I found totally irresistible was the one I should resist at all costs.
I liked who I was with her. She made me give a damn.
But this was a no go. She’d never be interested in me. She had her life totally in order with all the ducks and chickens in a straight fucking line. I highly doubted fuck-ups were her type.
I could be good for her, though. Show her the fun side of life.
My mind wandered to all the fun things I wanted to do with her, most of which involved no clothing.
Then what little logic I had kicked in. Me and her? Wasn’t gonna happen.
I had an appointment with her coming up, so I needed to get that through my head. Fast.
What I really needed was to go out and meet some girls. Or better yet, I could meet up with some girls I already knew. Less effort that way. Work smarter, not harder.
That would surely get my mind off Bri and her sweet lips.
Wanting More (Love on Campus #2) Page 10