Fate (Choices #2)

by Lane, Sydney

  On Friday, Eric walks into my room and sits down beside me on the couch where I’m playing a video game. He picks up a remote and asks if he can join. After I restart the game, we build our football teams in silence. I could almost play this game with my eyes closed. I never quite outgrew the allure of video games.

  We play for an hour before Eric asks, "When were you going to tell me?"

  The bottom drops out of my stomach. He knows. I mean, Jenna knows, so of course he knows. I could pretend I don’t know what he’s talking about. I could lie, but we both know that I understand the question. We both know I’m a piece of shit.

  "I don't know,” I sigh, throwing my remote on the floor. “Maybe I wasn't going to. I was waiting for her to make a decision."

  "So what? You're a couple now?" His voice remains calm, although I can see his carefully controlled anger simmering just below the surface.

  "Not yet, but I won't stop trying. So, if you're here to talk me out of it, it won't work." I don’t mean to challenge him, but I know exactly what he thinks I should do. Hell, I know what I should do. I just can’t do it.

  "I'm not trying to talk you out of anything. I'm here as a friend. I'm just trying to figure out what it is that you are so willing to give up everything for. You do know that you can be blackballed for this, right?" I nod my head. "And there's nothing I can do about it." I nod again. I'm a grown man, and I don't expect anyone to fight my battles for me. "And if anyone asks me, I will tell the truth. I won't be a part of hiding it."

  "Look, E. I know this puts you in a bad place, but I can't stop. I want her. Only her. I will do whatever it takes to get her. If I could change it, I'm not even sure I would. I don't want to hurt Declan, and I don't want to get kicked out of the fraternity. All I know is that she makes my world a better place. She's all I think about, all I want. What would you do if someone asked you to stay away from Jenna?"

  "Not happening." His eyes flash with anger.

  "Well, now you see." I don’t have to say another word. I’ve seen how he looks at Jenna. I know what he would do if anyone stepped on his territory.

  "Just be careful, man. That's all I got to say."

  When he lays down his remote and leaves the room, I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. That, at least, went better than I thought it would.

  Disappointment overwhelms me. I'm as disappointed in myself as the guys are. I'm disappointed that I don’t have the balls to walk away. Disappointed that I have screwed over the nicest guy I’ve ever met. Disappointed that I’m not the kind of guy Quincy needs. If I were, she wouldn’t have to make a choice. And now, I’ve dragged my friends into it. It’s not like I’m asking them to choose, but they now have to carry my secret. I’m not just hurting Declan, I’m hurting them. We’ve always been a team, us against the world. At this moment, however, I feel isolated. They don’t understand, and I can’t expect them to. How can you explain something you don’t understand yourself?

  I blame Quincy for not making a decision, but the truth is, I’m just as much to blame. I knew it was wrong, but I did it anyway. I can’t keep making this all about her. I need to accept responsibility for my own actions.

  Eric’s words weigh heavily on my conscience. I knew it would suck if I got caught, but I guess I never really thought they’d blackball me. I would deserve it. Before I met Quincy, I would have never believed I would do something like this, not to a brother and especially not to Declan.

  I’m finding out a lot about myself. I’ve never been the kind of guy to go after another guy’s girl. I’ve never lied to my friends, and I’ve never risked it all for anyone. I’ve never had a reason to. Until now.

  Yeah, I’m learning a lot about myself. I’m just not sure I like it.

  Chapter 27

  I’m working with Quincy tonight. Despite my dark and guilty feelings, I can’t stop watching her, analyzing her, hoping that I’ll somehow begin to understand her. Hoping that something, some little sign, will justify how I feel. What I’ve done.

  Throughout the night, she avoids me. She couldn’t be more obvious about it if she’d worn a sign. When she comes up to the bar, she only talks to Devin. She never even looks my way, and that’s fine with me. I know that her choosing Declan, walking away from me, is the best thing she could do. It might just save all of us.

  The bar is packed, and I barely notice when a group of girls sits down behind me. Devin nudges me in the shoulder.

  “Dude, you’ve got company.” He smiles as he nods toward Whitney and a group of her sorority sisters. Just what I need. I saunter over to the girls, taking my time. Whitney’s eyes are predatory. They wander down my body and back up. When our eyes meet, she smiles seductively at me. Damn, she looks good. Hey, just because I don't want her anymore doesn't mean I'm blind.

  “What can I get you guys?” I flirt, knowing I’m playing with fire. The girls yell out their orders, and I make a show of mixing their drinks right in front of them. I told you, girls love bartenders. And I like girls. Well, most of them.

  Alex comes over and tries to give me some shit for flirting, and Devin gives me a knowing smile. He knows there is a girl under my skin, and he knows I’m doing my best to run from it. The difference between guys and girls – he’ll never say a thing, but she probably notices more. Girls see everything, pick up on the little clues guys don’t see.

  I work hard, wiping sweat from my brow throughout the night. The place is at max capacity, and I don’t have time to think about Quincy. I find myself having fun for the first time in weeks. Some of my friends come in, the ones from school who aren’t in the fraternity. It’s refreshing to be with people I’m not hiding from. I don’t have to worry about what they think, and right now, that means a lot.

  Hours go by, and the customers begin to dwindle. I’m talking to the girls at the bar when Quincy walks through. Her hair is loose, just the way I like it. She has on a tiny pair of shorts that say ‘look at me’ without screaming for attention. Her lips are wet with some kind of lip gloss, and her cheeks are pink. I don’t know if it’s make-up or if she’s flushed. Either way, she takes my breath away.

  She talks to Alex on her way through, and I swear she’s teasing me on purpose. Her hips have a little extra sway to them, and she casts one worried look over her shoulder before walking out. The door closes behind her, taking everything good with her. It’s only then that I notice Alex standing in front of me.

  “You’re stupid if you let that one get away.” She shakes her head, unwilling to meet my eyes, before turning back to her tables. Yeah, well, I’m not the only one making decisions here.

  Whitney and her friends are still at the bar, and her glare shoots daggers into my back. She couldn’t have missed what just happened, the look of disappointment on her face obvious. She scowls at me the rest of the night. When her friends get up to leave, she waves a resigned goodbye, rescuing me from an awkward brush-off. I didn’t want to have to deal with her tonight.

  When my shift is done, I hang around the bar, shooting the shit with some guys from one of my classes. I suddenly have no desire to go to a party, my bed sounding better by the minute. Devin raises an eyebrow when I leave alone, and I can’t help but smile. He knows Whitney was ready and willing, and he’s never seen me turn her down.

  It’s official.

  Little Miss Perfect broke my dick.

  When I slide to a stop in front of the fraternity house, the first thing I notice is Quincy’s car parked in the driveway. Jenna’s car is here, too. The house is dark and quiet, though. There is a party tonight at a brother’s house, and I can only hope that’s where they all went.

  A television is on in the entertainment room, calling to me in the darkness. I assume no one is home, but when I turn the corner, I'm confronted by my worst nightmare. Eric and Jenna are asleep on one couch, twisted around each other like a pretzel. Declan is watching the movie, and Quincy is asleep with her head in his lap. She’s so trusting, curled up like a kitten, and she loo
ks like she’s right where she belongs.

  A sudden, intense need to puke consumes me as bile rises in my throat. I step back, but not before Declan notices me.

  “Hey, man. Did you go to the party?” His voice is low so he doesn’t wake Quincy. His hand absently runs through her hair, and she smiles in her sleep, leaning into his hand.

  I shake my head, afraid my voice will betray me. I can’t tear my eyes off her face.

  “Yeah, we didn’t go either. The girls came over to watch a movie, but I’m the only one who made it.” He has no idea how much I hate him right now. The way he said ‘the girls’ made me want to pull my own hair out. My eyes are drawn to his hand in Quincy’s hair, the hair I had wrapped round my fingers just days ago. I’ve touched her, tasted her, and slept beside her, but I don’t even have the right to say her name or claim her as my own. Outside of my cabin, she doesn’t belong to me.

  I finally find my voice, forcing the words past the tightness in my throat. “I’m headed upstairs. It’s late, and I have an early morning tomorrow.” My eyes travel to Quincy’s face and down her body before returning to Declan. “Later, man.”

  Quincy’s eyes flutter open, and for a moment, she appears confused, like she doesn’t remember where she is. The moment she sees me, she panics, pushing herself to her feet. Declan puts a hand out to steady her.

  “Whoa! Where are you going so fast?” He has the concerned boyfriend bit down pat.

  She’s staring at me, like she’s trying to tell me something, but I’m too far gone to try to decipher it. I stare back, anger and jealousy radiating from within, until she looks away.

  “I have to go. I have lots of studying to do tomorrow, and I need to get some sleep.” Turning to Declan, she says, “Sorry I fell asleep on you.”

  “It’s Ok. I know you were tired. Jenna said she was spending the night here. Do you want me to take you home?” If she even tries to leave here with him, this won't end well. There’s only so much a guy can take.

  Shaking her head, she says, “I drove over here, so I’ll be fine.” She briefly wraps her arms around Declan’s waist before stepping away from him. I can’t help but notice how uncomfortable she seems, her body stiff against him. “Thanks for the movie. I promise I’ll be Ok to drive.” She brushes past me in the doorway, no longer willing to meet my eyes. When her hip grazes mine, I want to grab her and pull her to me. I feel like a stray dog, wanting to piss on her leg to mark my territory. “Night, Brody.” Her voice is low but filled with meaning.

  “Sweet dreams, Quince.” I force the words out, calm and collected, opposite of the emotional warfare devastating my insides. Honestly, I feel as if someone just kicked me in the nuts, that sick but indescribable feeling you never forget. No matter how strong you are, it’ll bring you to your knees.

  Suddenly, I feel as if I’m suffocating, all of the air being forced from my lungs. I jog to the front door and step out onto the porch, taking in large gulps of air. I bend over, hands on my knees, trying to right the world. I lean against the wall and watch Quincy walk away. She glances over her shoulder, and for just a moment in time, her heart reaches out to mine. I just wish they were speaking the same language.

  Chapter 28

  I didn’t sleep well last night, and even though that’s not uncommon, it’s the first time I've lost sleep over a girl. Sometimes, I feel like I’m losing my mind. Other times, I know I have.

  I could not get the image of Quincy asleep in Declan's arms out of my head. I tried to think of everything, anything else, but my mind always found its way back to her. Her soft moans when I touched her, the first time I made her laugh, her head in Declan's lap... I'm relieved to roll out of bed and get the day started.

  Get haircut. Check. Go to UT game. Check. Go to work. Check.

  When I get home from work, people are already overflowing from the house into the yard. Jenna's car is parked out front, and it ruins any hope I had of having a good night. On my way in, I stop at the keg and grab a beer. Several brothers are standing around, ogling at the girls as they walk by.

  After a few beers, I finally begin to relax. Some of the tension eases out of my shoulders, and I find myself actually enjoying the party. I hear Seth before I see him. When he walks out onto the deck, he notices me and strolls over.

  "Hey, douchebags, how much you wanna bet I can chug beer faster than any of you?" His words are slurred, but they spur everyone into action.

  We take turns filling our cups until we're all standing in a circle. After raising our cups in unison, we all throw our heads back and chug. The cool liquid flows down my throat but warmth spreads through my body. Fuck. Seth wins.

  "Two out of three," I challenge him. All of the guys rush to refill their cups, and we chug two more times. Seth wins, and he smiles as he collects five dollars from each of us, clapping us on the backs.

  The alcohol assaults my system all at once, and when I look at Seth, I see two of him. I throw my arm around his shoulders and slur, "You crazy fucker." He's already gotten me drunk, and I've only been home an hour. I love this guy.

  One of the other guys starts taking bets on who can hook up first. I look around, spotting Whitney on the deck. I smile to myself, knowing I got this one in the bag. Seth follows my line of view and gives me a shit-eating grin.

  "You got this one, Bro." He shoves me toward the steps leading onto the deck.

  I'd like to say it's the alcohol clouding my judgment, but I still know exactly what I'm doing. This isn't about a bet. It's about making a point. And damned if she doesn't start looking better the closer I get to her.

  "Hey, Whit." I bump her hip with mine.

  She wraps her arm around my waist, the other hand resting on my chest, and I recognize the look in her eyes. Too easy. You know, it would be so much better if she'd at least play hard to get. "You wanna go upstairs?" Her eyebrows furrow together, confused. She's not been in my room since the beginning of the semester when she blew my brains out. "We can talk or whatever." Her face lights up. So predictable.

  "Sure," she says, with too much enthusiasm. I cringe as I slide my hand down her arm, clasping her hand in mind. She waves to her friends as I lead her toward the door. I hesitate before walking in. I don't know if Quincy is even here, but I know that when I walk through that door, this might change everything. And not for the best.

  My eyes roam over the room, searching for Quincy, and the hair on the back of my neck bristles when I see her. As always, she's never far from Declan, standing beside him, smiling up at him. My fists clench as I pull Whitney behind me. I was right to do this before it goes any further. Except, when Quincy sees me, sees Whitney, the look on her face is almost my undoing. She looks hurt while also looking desperate, like I kicked her puppy or something. And damned if it doesn't get to me. If I weren't already drunk and thinking about last night, I would stop right here. I would tell her I didn't mean it, that I was just pissed, but nothing about this situation is normal, and I can't do that. She keeps pushing me, further and further away.

  I pull Whitney behind me to the bar, asking for a shot of Jager, something, anything, to make this whole week disappear. Only then do I look at Whitney. She's still holding my hand, a drunken smile on her face. She used to turn me on. Why can't I still be that guy?

  I lean against the wall, and she stands between my legs. For the first time, I feel the slight stirring of arousal, and I begin to think I can do this. If I could just drown myself in her, maybe I could stop remembering Quincy with her head in Declan's lap, while he ran his fingers through her hair.

  Jenna walks by, shooting daggers with her eyes. I guess I should just be glad we're in a crowded room. Otherwise, I think she'd have some choice words for me. But I didn't screw this up. Little Miss Perfect did that all by herself.

  I have the sudden urge to get away from this crowd, and I take Whitney's hand again, dragging her behind me. When I reach the stairs, I quicken my pace, taking the steps two at a time. Whitney can barely keep up with me, b
ut we both make it upstairs without falling. I back her against the wall outside my room as my mouth crashes into hers. She pulls me close, tangling her fingers in my hair. She grinds her hips into mine, and I almost forget.

  Beside her, I open the door and push her inside. I sling the door shut behind me... except I never hear it close. Quincy is standing in the doorway, breathing hard and looking all kinds of pissed. Fuck. I push Whitney behind me.

  "What are you doing, Quince?"

  "Get her out, Brody." Her chest heaves. "Get. Her. Out!" In that moment, her facade cracks. She no longer looks fierce. She looks broken.

  I turn to Whitney, who is cowering behind me, looking anywhere but at Quincy. "Whitney, can you wait outside a minute?" Quincy is all of five feet tall and a buck o' five, yet she looks fierce. Whitney walks past her, shooting a worried look over her shoulder. All of the fight leaving her, Quincy falls back against the wall, sliding to the floor. Something inside of me cracks when tears begin to roll down her face, her eyes accusing me.

  "Why, Brody? Why did you bring her here?" I'm suddenly sober, the alcohol no longer clouding my vision. I kneel down next to her, my broken girl, and wrap my arms around her. "Tonight, I came here for you." Something inside of me snaps.

  "Shhh. Shhh. Hold onto me, baby." She reluctantly wraps her arms around my neck as I lift her and lay her gently on the bed. "Just lay here. I'll be back in a minute." I drop a kiss to her forehead, feeling, for the first time, that we've had a real breakthrough, that maybe we're finally on the same page.

  Out in the hall, Whitney is waiting for me. She looks like a woman ready to kill.

  "What the fuck just happened, Brody? I mean, really?" I can understand her anger. I used her. More than once, I've used her, but this time was cruel.