Derek’s room was down the hall, but I was still in my boxers and not ready to get dressed yet. Plus, I just didn’t feel like walking. So I texted him.
Let’s call Sarah and her friend and have an afternoon party.
His reply was almost immediate.
Tell me when and where.
I texted Sarah and we made plans to have an early dinner, then who knows?
Instead of going to Thirsties, we classed it up, meeting at Side Streets instead. Sarah sidled up to me immediately with a big smile on her face. Shit. Derek still had a thing for her—he’d told me as much on the way here. It was probably a bad idea to invite her to hang out.
But thinking about unraveling Bri’s sweater dress she’d worn last night one strand at a time was an even worse idea, so here I was.
Cori was actually working as a hostess, and she seated us right away even though they were really busy. I strategically sat next to Meredith and across from Derek to have the least amount of contact with Sarah. Her face fell a little, but hopefully she’d take the hint.
Meredith was perfectly charming—still the shy, sweet thing that I remembered—but I found her hard to engage in conversation, and for once I didn’t feel like taking the effort to bring her out of her shell. Normally, I enjoyed the challenge.
So as a group, we chatted about everything from the weather to our school’s basketball team, but I had a hard time paying attention. Nothing that came out of the girls’ mouths interested me. What the hell was wrong with me? I was always interested in what girls had to say. Especially hot ones. And cute ones. And both types were accounted for at our table.
Overall, I’d say dinner was pleasant. Nice. Just what you wanted on a pseudo double date with two attractive girls—a dinner that resembled a cordial family gathering at my grandmother’s house. It was not fun like Waffle Hut had been last night.
When our server asked if we wanted dessert, I requested the check before anyone else could speak, even though I knew Sarah had mentioned how much she loved the brownie sundaes here.
“I’m ready to drink,” I said to their questioning stares. I’d been rude, and I knew it, but I didn’t care. I wasn’t lying when I said I needed a drink.
I bought the first round at Thirsties to make up for my rudeness.
The stage was occupied by a hippie girl sitting on a stool, plucking at her guitar. She leaned into the microphone and sang.
“Forever is never ending
And that’s how long I’ll love you.
That’s how long I’ll love you,
Until forever ends.”
The song continued, but it didn’t get much better. Her playing wasn’t awful, but the chord progressions were simplistic and the lyrics were too sugary sweet. I was going to get a cavity just listening to her.
She finished her song to meager applause, except for the exuberant cheering of a group right up front. Our server came by with our drinks right as a burly guy took the stage with a ukulele. He started strumming a high-pitched cover of “Over the Rainbow.”
I’d never knock anyone for trying, but geez. If that was the best open mic night had to offer, then maybe I should consider it. I had to be better than these people.
I seriously considered it for about seven seconds. Nah. Too many people knew me here. But at least now I could tell Cori I’d actually thought about it, if she asked.
“Is anyone else having déjà vu?” Sarah asked with a grin. “Isn’t this the same booth we sat in last time?”
“Yup.” Meredith agreed. They looked to me for confirmation.
I nodded, then I gave my beer my full attention.
The déjà vu talk reminded me of the last time I sat here with them. The bar had been packed, and Bri had gotten trapped in a crowd of people. She had been so adorably awkward and totally out of her element. It was the first time I’d gotten a whiff of her scent. It wasn’t perfume—too light for that. It must have been some kind of flowery body wash or body spray or something. And what had I done? Bought her a drink to make her feel more uncomfortable—payback for making me feel like shit about being on academic probation. I’d rescued her, but only to lord it over her, emphasizing that Thirsties was my turf.
Now all I could think about was how I would play it differently. I’d still buy her a drink, but this time I wouldn’t do it to be an asshole. I’d do it because—
I slammed my glass down on the table with a thud.
Christ.
“Sorry, ladies and Derek, I’ve got to…” I threw a twenty on the table, even though I’d already paid for the first round. Maybe covering the next round would partially make up for ditching them.
I couldn’t deny it any longer. I had a thing—a crush—on my academic probation counselor.
Now I just had to figure out what to do about it.
…
I woke bright and early Monday morning, thankfully after a night of no dreams. But that was probably because I’d hardly slept.
I liked Bri.
That sentence kept running through my mind, and I kept waiting for it not to be true.
That wasn’t how things worked for me. I usually dated girls to figure out if I liked them. Wasn’t that how things were supposed to go? And I’d liked some of those girls, but never enough to keep up a relationship.
Liking a girl before I dated her—this was new territory for me.
Before I dated her… That implied that I would, in fact, date Bri.
I’d never had any fear when asking girls out. Since I didn’t have any preformed opinions or feelings about them, I didn’t really care if they turned me down. Few ever did, but even so, no big loss.
But this situation with Bri…it was different. Since the moment I’d met her, I’d been in unfamiliar territory, so why should this be any different?
The question in my mind wasn’t whether or not I should ask her out—there was no getting around that. Sure, she was my academic counselor, but that was just an unfortunate detail. Okay, it was more than just that, but I still wasn’t going to worry about it. The problem was how to maximize my chance of success.
My phone buzzed with a text, so I pulled it off my nightstand and flopped onto my back to read it and see what else was going on in the world.
It was from my dad. He wanted to know when to expect me this weekend.
Fuck. I’d totally forgotten about Mackenzie’s birthday.
Double fuck. I still needed to get her some sort of present. I was totally thinking gift card, but she was only five. Would she understand what it was? I didn’t want to give her a lame present. I had a cool big brother reputation to uphold.
Triple fuck. I guess I wouldn’t be going out with Bri this weekend no matter what happened when I asked her. The thought of skipping the party fleetingly entered my mind, but I dismissed it. My dad’s text mentioned that Mackenzie was excited I was coming. There was no way I could cancel.
So should I ask Bri out now, or wait until it was closer to when our date would be? Would it be weird to have to go to our appointments while waiting to go on our date?
Or worse, what if she turned me down? Now that wouldn’t be awkward meeting twice a week. Not a bit.
I didn’t like this. I didn’t like this at all. I developed a crush on a girl, and I’d suddenly turned neurotic. Maybe I shouldn’t have given Luke and Brad so much shit last semester when they first started dating their girls.
Nah. They should have hidden it better, like I was going to do. This situation with Bri was staying under wraps until I figured it out.
Maybe Bri and I could have dinner one night this week. I didn’t think she’d be up for going out on a weeknight—a school night—but a girl has to eat, right? Why couldn’t she eat with me?
God, my head was going to explode from all this deep thinking first thing in the morning.
Another text came through, this one from Bri.
I’m sorry, but I have to cancel our appointment this morning. I’ll see you Thursday.
Disappointment. Because I was missing my academic counseling appointment.
I needed to have my head examined.
…
Bri
As soon as I arrived at the Academic Services building Thursday morning, I rushed into the bathroom to check on my makeup and reapply if necessary. I’d figured my face would look better by now. Nope. It looked worse. I mean, it looked like it was healing, but aesthetically it looked worse. The deep purples had faded and were beginning to turn yellow.
I looked like I had gotten punched in the eye.
Which I had.
Brett had called me all day on Monday, and I let each of his calls go straight to voicemail, then I deleted them without listening. On Tuesday he started texting me to the point where I had to turn my phone off.
The hotel had been my temporary home until yesterday because it had taken management several days to arrange for the locks on my apartment to be changed. They’d be sending me a hefty bill for that service. Add that to the hotel expense, and my budget for the month was shot. I didn’t want to have to ask my parents for money, but I might not make it until my next stipend check.
I peered into the mirror. My makeup was still mostly intact, but the dark circles under my eyes didn’t help matters, so I slopped on more concealer.
I barely got any sleep last night. Even though I’d tested the lock to make sure the old key didn’t work, I was still anxious and woke up at every little noise.
That just made me even angrier. I couldn’t even relax in my own apartment.
It took until Tuesday for my tears to turn to anger, an anger that was slowly building to a boiling rage. I’d loved Brett, still had lingering affectionate feelings for him, and he’d hit me.
Part of me still couldn’t believe it had happened. That rage-infested part wanted to key his car and put fire ants in his underwear drawer.
But another part of me was scared. And that’s what I hated most. I’d accepted that I was uncomfortable in certain social situations, like in crowded bars, but I’d never felt honest-to-goodness scared before.
I gave my face one last coating of powder—my makeup had to be half an inch thick by now—and left the restroom to go to my cubicle to get ready for my first appointment.
Josh.
At least my recent ordeal served one positive purpose—I hadn’t stressed over seeing him after Saturday’s kiss, wondering if it would be awkward.
I rounded the corner and stopped. Josh was here already, ten minutes early. What the heck? There was no way he’d get up extra early. Had he stayed up all night partying or something? Maybe this wasn’t early. Maybe it was really, really late.
I took a deep breath and entered the cubicle, squeezing through the narrow entryway to my desk. I carefully kept my face turned so he couldn’t see my left side.
“Good morning, Bri,” Josh said.
With my back still turned, I shrugged out of my coat. “Good morning.”
“I went by the doughnut shop, but I didn’t know what kind you liked, so…”
I lowered myself into the chair, and the smile fell off his face as quickly as if it had been attached to an anvil.
“What the hell happened to your face?”
Crap. I guess my makeup skills weren’t as good as I hoped they were.
“Nothing,” I said, looking down at his file, not that I really needed to. I knew what was in there. I just needed something to focus on. “I’m sorry, but since I took Monday off, I’m a bit behind, so I didn’t—”
“Something happened.”
“It’s fine. As I was saying, I didn’t have time to download your new assignments, so—”
“Does it hurt?”
“No…yes…no… I’m not discussing it.”
“Who hurt you?”
“Josh, while I appreciate your concern, your academic performance is what we should be focusing on.”
“Don’t pull that bullshit with me.” His voice was low but strong. He scooted forward in his chair and rested his elbows on the desk. His eyes, normally full of laughter, were scary serious. “We’re friends now, right?”
I nodded. If I tried to speak, my voice would break, along with the dam threatening to unleash a flood of tears.
“Then tell me what happened. I know you didn’t just run into a door or something, or you would tell me.”
Dang! I was such an amateur. Coming up with a cover story hadn’t even occurred to me. That obviously wouldn’t have worked with Josh, but maybe I should think of something to tell anyone else who asked.
“I really don’t want to talk about it.”
“I’m not letting this go.” Josh’s eyes were fierce, determined. I believed him. He was like a dog with a bone.
“Not here. Please don’t make me talk about it.” My voice broke on the please. A few tears streamed down my face, and I quickly dabbed at them with a tissue, worried how much they were messing up my careful, but unconvincing, cover-up job.
Josh stared at me for a moment, then stood and squeezed himself through the small entryway to my side of the desk. He wrapped his arms around me.
“I’m sorry this happened to you.”
I broke. The floodgates opened, and a sob escaped my throat.
I hadn’t told anyone about what had happened. Not Casey, and not Frank and Marie. I was too embarrassed. But now that Josh was offering me comfort, I realized how much I needed it. Josh had realized that I needed it.
I put a fist up to my mouth to silence my sobs, not wanting my co-workers to overhear, and he held me for a while. I didn’t know how many minutes passed.
“Can you take the day off?” he asked quietly. “You’re not going to be able to get through a day of appointments like this.”
I sniffed one last time and reluctantly pulled away from him. “No. But I don’t want to, anyway. I need this. I need something normal.” I closed my eyes and exhaled.
He nodded with a sigh and then returned to the other side of my desk. “I get that.”
“What time is it? Oh, no. My next appointment will be here soon. I’m a mess.” I smoothed back my hair and reached into my purse for my compact. Crap! I needed to fix the damage done by my tears. Now on top of the skin around my eye being purple and yellow, it was also puffy, and my eyes were bloodshot.
“What time are you done here?” Josh asked.
“Three.”
He picked up his coat. “I’ll be back at three, then.”
I hesitated briefly. “Josh, it’s okay. I’ll be fine. I’m sorry I—”
“Don’t apologize,” he said. “This isn’t your fault.”
My lip quivered before I managed to rein it in. It didn’t matter if he was talking about me crying during his appointment or the incident. I’d spent the last few days taking responsibility for everything, and to hear that it wasn’t my fault…so many emotions flowed through me.
Despite what he said, though, I should have known better. It was my job to protect myself.
“Don’t feel like you have to—”
He chuckled, cutting me off. “I think we’ve already established that I don’t do stuff I don’t want to do.”
That made me smile a little. “True.”
“So I’ll be back at three. If you get done early, or if you need anything before then, text me. You have my number.”
I nodded.
He jerked his head toward the doughnut bag that was still sitting unopened on my desk. “Have some doughnuts. See you at three.”
Then he left.
I sat numbly at my desk for a few seconds. What just happened? I’d just been blindsided by kindness and compassion from an unlikely source, that’s what.
Although, after spending hours with him on Saturday, I had to admit that it wasn’t as unlikely as I once would have thought. There was a lot more to Josh than he’d have people believe. His party frat boy facade was crumbling before my e
yes.
And before I could stop it, I fell a little farther and a little faster for him.
Shit.
If I didn’t need that before, I certainly didn’t need that now. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, locking those feelings away.
A quick glance at my watch had me grabbing my cosmetic case and running toward the restroom. I had five minutes to make myself presentable.
…
Josh
I skipped class. That was the last thing Bri would want me to do, but I couldn’t focus. Every time I blinked, I saw her damaged face.
Hell, even when my eyes were open, visions of her bruised skin flashed in my mind.
I stalked through campus for the first hour, willing myself to calm down. When that didn’t work, I ran to my car—literally—and grabbed my gym clothes. Maybe working out would help. It certainly couldn’t hurt.
I wasn’t much of a weight bench kind of guy, but I hit the iron hard today. I needed to get my frustration out before this afternoon.
Someone had done that to her. Someone hurt her. And for whatever reason, she didn’t want to say who.
Okay, maybe that wasn’t fair. I understood why she wouldn’t want to get into it at her office. And I might not be her first choice of person to confide in. While I wasn’t lying when I said we were friends, we weren’t close.
Yet.
I’d had days to plan out my approach. I’d gotten up early to get her some doughnuts. Nothing sugars a girl up like sugar, right? If she liked them, then maybe I’d ask her out on a breakfast date at the doughnut shop. It would probably kill me to have to get up so early again, but since our appointment was always the first of the day, it was logical. We could meet for a casual breakfast, then walk over to the Academic Services building together.
It was brilliant. She might not even realize it was a date. Then I’d work my way up to asking her to dinner. Or a movie or something.
I’d decided I couldn’t risk asking her on a serious date and getting turned down. So I’d start casual. I liked this girl, and I wanted a chance to see it through. Who knows? My crush on her might fade after a few dates.
But somehow I didn’t think it would.
And that should scare the shit out of me. I was the guy who thought dating for a month was a long-term relationship. But I didn’t care. Or maybe I was in denial. All I knew was that I wanted to be with her.
Wanting More (Love on Campus #2) Page 11