Crushed (The Rushed New Adult and College Romance Series Book 2)

by Gina Robinson

  Morgan's door was closed, but unlocked. I managed the knob and pushed the door open with my foot again. Her room was bright and smelled like her perfume. Her bed was covered with girlie pillows.

  I set her on a chair, dumped the backpacks, swept the pillows off the bed, and opened it for her. I held out my hand to help her into it.

  She bit her lip and shook her head. "I need to get out of these clothes first."

  "I'm not leaving until there's someone here to sit with you. I won't look." I turned my back.

  I heard her rustling in a drawer behind me. "Modesty's a funny thing, isn't it? You've seen everything I own, but this embarrasses me."

  "It shouldn't."

  I heard the bedsprings creak.

  "I'm decent," she said.

  When I turned around, she was sitting in bed with her pillow propped up behind her, wearing a white cami that showed her dark nipples. I wondered if she was just trying to torment me. I grabbed a few of her decorative pillows from the floor and put them behind her, making her comfortable.

  The girl from the living room stuck her head in the room. "Victoria's on her way back from class. She'll be here as soon as she can." The girl hesitated. "I can sit with Morgan until then."

  She looked like a scared frosh.

  "Thanks," I said. "I'll sit with her until Victoria gets here."

  The girl looked like she wanted to argue. I gave her a hard, unyielding stare. She nodded and cast a worried glance at Morgan. "Give me a shout if you need anything."

  "You really don't need to stay," Morgan said to me after the frosh had left. "Vicki will be here in no time."

  I didn't move. I had a sick suspicion. I needed to know. "This isn't an ordinary period. You aren't…?" I couldn't make myself say the words.

  She shook her head and looked into her lap. "I don't know." She bit her lip. "I'm late. Does it matter? It's over now."

  "Was there anyone else?" I had to know.

  She met my eye and shook her head.

  I held her gaze. "Would you have told me?"

  "I don't know." Her voice was soft. "I really don't."

  Victoria charged in before either of us could say more. She was red from running, and out of breath. She glanced at me and then at Morgan. "I came as soon as I could. I'll take over now."

  Chapter Sixteen

  Morgan

  I was sure I'd lost Dakota there, in that moment when neither of us could voice our true fears. Hookup guys don't hang around in general. Hit them with a pregnancy scare and they're long-gone history.

  So I was surprised when he called me later that night to see how I was doing. And when he texted me the next day to check up on me again. But there was a strain now, a polite distance. He didn't mention getting together again. And our sobriety buddy companionship seemed like a thing of the past. And then communications simply ceased. I shouldn't have been surprised.

  I recovered quickly. By Saturday, I was back to my old self. I was sitting in the living room on Saturday evening, trying to look politely bored and done with the party scene, like it was beneath me, when Zach strolled in to pick up Alexis.

  I set down the magazine I'd been mindlessly leafing through. "Well, if it isn't my savior."

  He turned my direction and smiled. "Savior? That's a little over the top."

  "You did save my life." I felt another huge sigh of relief that all I felt when I looked at him was friendship and gratitude.

  He shrugged.

  "If you say it's no big deal, I'll have to smack you." I gave him my sly smile, wondering if he could see the difference in me. The lack of desperation. The lack of longing for him. "I suppose you're here for Alexis."

  "Yeah. She texted. She's running behind." He came into the living room and took the chair next to the sofa where I was sitting.

  "If you say that's typical female behavior, I'll totally forget you saved me and have to kill you."

  He laughed.

  "How's apartment life?" I asked.

  "Almost a week in—epic." He leaned forward like he was about to tell me a secret. "Just between you and me?"

  I nodded.

  "I'm trying to talk Seth into moving in with me at semester."

  "Miss the old roomie, huh?"

  "Yeah. He kind of grew on me. And I could use someone to take out the garbage."

  I laughed. "Then what will we do about the garbage if you steal our new favorite houseboy?" It felt good to be joking around with him again.

  "You'll survive." Secret over, he sprawled back in his chair. "How are you feeling? Alexis said you were sick earlier in the week."

  It seemed to me that the question was more than innocent. That he and Alexis suspected something. I felt a blush creep up my cheeks. "Better, thanks."

  "Good to hear." He studied me, looking too nonchalant and casual. "I hear you and Dakota are tight now."

  My cheeks went into full flame mode with the implication. Gossip ran high in the house, and either Dak or Alexis could have filled him in. There was no use denying it. I kept my tone casual and light. "Misery loves miserable company. Odd bedfellows and all that crap. Dak has probably told you. We're keeping an eye on each other. Sobriety buddies, we're calling it. Just until our birthdays and we move past that MIC/MIP mess."

  "Just buddies?" He didn't look like he believed me.

  "Yeah, of course."

  His eyes narrowed. He knew. Of course he knew.

  I deflected any further questions by going on the offensive. "How are things with your parents? Who are you spending Thanksgiving with?"

  He swore beneath his breath. "Both of them. I get two Thanksgivings this year to make up for all their shitty behavior for my entire childhood. The newness of my near-death episode hasn't worn off yet. When it does, I'm sure it will be back to business as usual. And I can go back to living my own life without being smothered." He paused. "Alexis and I are giving Dak a ride home for the break."

  He was testing me again.

  "Are you? Good to know he isn't getting behind the wheel of a car again. I guess I can cross checking up on his ride home situation off my sobriety pal checklist." I smiled, trying not to show I was hurt by Dak's sudden lack of attention. "Keep an eye on him over break, will you? Make sure he doesn't do anything stupid."

  "Talk about giving a guy an impossible task!" Zach smiled and shifted in his chair. "How about you?"

  "Victoria's giving me a ride." I sighed. "It's going to be a hellish week. Torn between two Thanksgivings. Half the day with Dad, half with bitter Mom. Who will make a huge dinner and expect me to gorge myself as a form of torture. So I won't be able to eat a bite of my stepmom's cooking. And to cap off the week, a baby shower for my stepmom and soon-to-be baby sister."

  He winced. "Family drama."

  "Yeah, welcome to the asylum." I shook my head. "A word of advice—pace yourself with the eating."

  He grinned and patted his stomach. "No problem there. I'm a bottomless pit." He studied me, looking like there was something more he wanted to say. "Morgan, you've always been a little like a sister to me."

  Which was true. But then, so were most girls in the house. Zach was always trying to brother people to make up for accidentally killing his little sister when he wasn't much more than a baby himself. But we had a special bond because I had an older brother who died before I was born. I was the replacement child. I should have seen that Zach had been brothering me before, and nothing more. But having a crush on a guy kills good judgment and common sense.

  I smiled encouragingly and tried not to get emotional. I was glad he still felt that way after all that had happened.

  "Take this as brotherly advice." He hesitated, holding my gaze. "For your own good, don't lose your heart to Dakota. He's my best friend. I know him better than anyone. He's a good guy. But he's capable of being an epic douchebag, too."

  I started to stutter a lame response just as Alexis came down the stairs and spotted us.

  Her gaze bounced between us. Although she
smiled, her eyes grew narrow and suspicious. "There you are!"

  Zach stood. She ran to him and threw herself into his arms. It was clear she was making a statement.

  The truth was—I looked on dispassionately. I wasn't in love with Zach. But why had he warned me about Dakota? And was I that obvious?

  Dakota

  I sailed into Thanksgiving break feeling like the world's biggest jerk for avoiding Morgan. I needed time to process. I needed time to figure out what the hell I wanted and what I was doing. I needed to figure out my feelings for Jordan.

  My first night back for break, Jordan insisted on partying with a group of her friends from high school. Four of her girlfriends shared a rented house in Ballard. The night was dark and stormy. Rainy. Typical for Seattle in November. The weather restricted the bounds of the party to the house, which rocked with music.

  Jordan drove, which pissed her off. Her car was old, parking was hard to find, and gas was expensive. When I slipped her a twenty to cover it, she took it gladly, but scowled at me to show her displeasure with my situation. That it had all been over a fake show of hurt and anger over Alexis peeved her. She hadn't forgiven me for that.

  As we got out of the car and walked toward the party house, she hung on my arm like she owned me, possessive in a clingy way I hadn't noticed before.

  She cooed in my ear, "Be good and you'll get laid later." She stroked my cheek. "I've missed you, baby."

  I wasn't turned on. I didn't reply or rush to assure her I'd missed her, too. I'd never been good at lying to her. I was saved from responding when the door to the house opened and Marsha, her high school best friend, waved to us.

  "You're here! Let the party begin." Marsha hugged me and pulled us into the house as I held Jordan's hand. "Dakota! Long time no see. Come on in and get yourself a drink. Coats in the first bedroom to the right. Keg's in the kitchen. Hard stuff's on the table. There are a ton of new people here, Dak. A good crowd. You'll like them.

  "Jordan, introduce him around." She whispered something into Jordan's ear while slyly looking at me. The two of them had a good laugh at whatever she said.

  Jordan pulled me up the stairs, introducing me to person after person. I felt like I was on display, the trophy boyfriend. The rich boy.

  In the kitchen, I poured Jordan a beer and grabbed a cola for myself.

  "Are you serious?" She stared at my beverage as I handed her a beer. "Is there anything in that?"

  "What do you think?" I said.

  She grabbed a bottle of cheap rum from the table and poured a healthy dose into my cup so quickly I didn't have time to pull it away. Then she grinned. "There! All better."

  I glared at her.

  The party was a bore. Over half the people worked together. I was on the outside of their inside jokes. Jordan chugged beer after beer and hung on my arm, chiding me for being a stick-in-the-mud when I dumped my drink down the sink untouched.

  "Righteous prick." She glared at me and pouted. Then begged me to get her another beer.

  As the night wore on and people got drunker, they laughed at the stupidest, most inane things. Jordan thought they were hilarious, and drank more.

  After a couple of hours, I couldn't take it anymore. I grabbed her arm and pulled her away from the group she was hanging with. "Let's ditch this place."

  "Good idea." She slurred her words.

  Shit. She was plastered.

  She grabbed my arm, as much for balance as seduction, and pulled me to the bedroom where the coats were stored. We were alone in the room. She shut the door and threw her arms around me, grabbing my crotch in the process. "I've missed you. Let's do it. Here. Now. I want you so bad."

  "Not when you're like this." I held her at arm's length. "You're drunk."

  "What? Now you've become a romantic?" She fumbled with the zipper to my jeans.

  I caught her hand, staring her down.

  She burped and turned green. "Let go!"

  I was no dummy. I dropped her hand and watched her rush to the connected bathroom. A second later, I heard her puking. We'd been here. Done this before. But we usually got hammered together. The world was a different place when you were the only sober one at the party.

  I'd been resisting the urge to drink all night, but I was tired. And tired of fighting it. Tired of being odd man out and feeling misplaced. A downer. A wet blanket. Me, the life of Tau Psi. My rep would soon be in serious tatters. My mouth went dry.

  Ah, shit.

  I had to talk to Morgan before I pounded down a beer or six. I pulled my cell phone out and called her before I thought too much about it or how calling her complicated things. "Hey, sobriety bud. I'm at a party and my ride is puking in the bathroom, totally shitfaced. What do I do?"

  "Call a cab," she said without missing a beat.

  The sound of her voice made my heart race. Fuck, I wanted her. I needed her. I'd been furious with her about the pregnancy scare she hadn't shared with me. Scared. Relieved. You name it. Now I just missed the hell out of her.

  "Now why didn't I think of that?" I said.

  "Party fog. It messes with the mind." She paused. "You aren't drunk, too?"

  "I'm insulted. Do I sound drunk?"

  "Not a good test, Dak. You can be a surprisingly erudite drunk."

  Her laugh made me smile.

  "I'll take that as a compliment. It's taken great restraint to avoid drinking. I'm surrounded by saboteurs. That's why I need you." Why had I said that?

  She laughed. "Need me, do you?"

  Shit, she had to pick up on that slip of the tongue.

  "What do you want me to do?" she said. "Jump on my white public transit steed and rescue you? Where are you, anyway?"

  "Ballard."

  She paused again, like she was thinking. "Too far."

  "Where are you?"

  "Dad's. In Puyallup."

  "Ah," I said. "Far away."

  "Far, far away. Locked in a tower under the watchful gaze of my evil stepmom." She sighed. "There will be absolutely no fun here. And no temptation to drink. She's warned me she's put a sensor on the liquor cabinet. If I so much as open the door, the security company will send her a message. And she'll know who the culprit is. Apparently, I'm the only one without the code to disarm the alert."

  "Wicked. And shows no sense of trust."

  "Yeah. And she's totally naïve. If I wanted to drink…" She laughed again. "Call a cab, Dak. Text me when you're home safely." She hung up just as Jordan staggered to the bathroom door and braced herself against it.

  She was trying to be seductive, but she was wobbly on her feet. She summoned me with a crook of her finger.

  I sighed and went to her. As I put my arm around her to support her, she breathed puke breath in my face. I looked away. "I'm calling a cab and taking you home."

  "I'm not leaving without my car."

  "You can get it tomorrow." I pulled her toward the bed to look for our coats.

  She punched me in the shoulder and swore. "I'm not leaving. What's wrong with you? I'm not going home in a cab." She glared at me.

  "I'm going."

  "Fine." She glared at me. "You're going alone."

  "You can't drive home."

  She shook loose from me, swearing. "I'll spend the night here."

  "Have it your way." I grabbed my coat and turned to leave.

  She caught my arm. "Dakota Bradley—walk out on me and we're through!"

  I was used to her threats and the way she used them to manipulate me. This time, she'd unwittingly given me the out I'd been looking for.

  I shook her off and stormed out.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Morgan

  My phone rang an hour later. Like rang. With the ringtone I'd stupidly set for Dak. Like he was someone special. As if he thought I was someone special beyond a sobriety buddy of convenience and sometimes hookup. No more hookups. I repeated it again to myself. No. More. Hookups. With. Dak. Period.

  My heart was doing that odd fluttery thing it
did with anything regarding Dak. I let the phone ring until the last second and picked it up against my better judgment. "Home?"

  "Safe and sound." He sounded seductively happy. Light and free.

  "Caught a cab or took your chances?" I had to know.

  "Took a taxi. Not easy to get in Seattle. Left the ride at the party." Okay, he sounded almost euphoric.

  It made no sense, but then I guess it didn't have to. The joy in his voice was contagious. "Your ride, how is he getting home?"

  "Spending the night at the party house."

  Was that relief in his voice?

  "You hope," I said. "Did you take his keys?"

  "No. Should have thought of that. Don't worry…they'll be fine." He paused. "Morgan, I'm sorry." His voice was low and genuine. So true and emotional, my resolve cracked and my eyes watered.

  I tried to brush it off. "About what?"

  "You know what. About being a douche and not calling after—"

  The phone shook in my hands. I bit my lip and blinked back tears. Crap, the whole thing made me so emotional. It was like I was almost grieving. Which was stupid. A pregnancy would have made my life beyond complicated. But I wasn't the hard-hearted bitch some of my sorority sisters made me out to be. "Let's not talk about it. Ever."

  "Let me just say one more thing and I promise I won't mention it again."

  I took a deep breath and nodded. As if he could see me. We weren't Facetiming. I cleared my throat and made some lame noise that passed for permission.

  "You could tell me. I'm not the kind of guy who would leave you in a lurch. I'd feel better knowing you trust me and that we can work things through together. You can tell me anything." He cleared his throat. "That's all."

  I pictured him with that sweet, apologetic look on his face. The look that made me want to take his face in my hands and kiss him softly and sweetly. The look that made me want to cry. I couldn't speak.

  "Morgs? Still there?"

  My voice caught. "Yeah."