She Runs Away (The Sheridan Hall Series Book 2)

by Jessica Calla

  I cross my arms over my chest and lift my chin. “I need to talk to you.”

  “Um, I’m kind of in the middle of something.” Ben’s tone makes me want to dump his Coke on his head.

  “I was talking to her,” I bark and gesture toward Carly. She rolls her eyes but follows me out of the game room to the café.

  “So this is your game plan? You want me to call the Psych Department and report you?”

  “I dare you.” She copies my stance, crossing her arms over her chest. Except when she does it, it accentuates her cleavage. Blech. “We’re having a good time.”

  “Because you’re acting like me. Don’t you have any pride?” I almost feel sorry for her. Almost.

  “I’ll transition from you to me, and he won’t even notice. I’ll keep his mind occupied in other ways.” As she winks at me, my hand twitches, wanting to hit her.

  I poke her, my finger landing between her boobs. “Listen, you… you… identity stealer! One way or another, Ben’s going to figure this out. He’s not an idiot. You give it your best shot though, honey. It’s gonna go nowhere.” I sound more confident than I feel. Before I completely breakdown and cause a scene, I leave her alone in the café and make my way back to Dave.

  He’s standing with Ben, whom I ignore. I ask Dave if he wants to leave. When he nods, I take his hand and lead him away.

  I glance over my shoulder to see Ben staring at me. I have the urge to stick my tongue out at him, but I don’t.

  Outside, Dave turns to me. “What the hell was that about?” He points back to the Student Center. “You’re yelling at Ben’s date, and he thinks I’m trying to hook up with you.”

  I cringe. “Yeah, I may have given him that impression. Are you mad?”

  Dave clenches his jaw then shakes his head. “Nah. I thought he was going to beat the shit out of me though. I’m thinking he’s into you.”

  “What exactly did he say?” I want to be sufficiently prepared when I yell at Ben.

  “He said you’re using me to get back at him.”

  I groan. “That son of a… I’m sorry, Dave. Ben is… it’s complicated.”

  “It’s okay. Really.” Dave smiles and takes my hand. “I guess if he’s jealous then that helps your cause, whatever that may be. Ben or no Ben, we’re staying friends, Basement Girl.”

  “Friends would be nice. I have to get away from the basement crowd sometimes. They’re all so involved.”

  “Yeah, you’re a close-knit group down there. You think it’s from November?”

  “I think November added to it, but we were all over each other within a week of school starting.” I lean in and give him a nudge with my shoulder. “You know, that crazy week you mentioned?”

  “Don’t remind me. I’d be happy to distract you if you need a break.”

  “Thanks, Dave. You really are a good guy.”

  “You’re welcome, Megan.” We walk a step, and he adds, “You manipulative bitch.”

  I gasp, but when I look at Dave, he’s glancing at me sideways trying to hide his perfect smile. I give him a playful slap as we walk to Sheridan.

  Back at the dorm, Dave and I say goodnight as my phone buzzes with a text from Ben.

  So not sorry I outed you to Dave.

  I pout and stick my tongue out at the phone. I don’t know why I’m so angry with Ben considering I tried to sabotage his date too.

  Asshole.

  I text back and pull on my pajamas.

  Maggie tsks and rolls over, turning her back to my side of the room. “Total shit show, huh?” she asks over her shoulder.

  “Total.” I hide under my comforter, wide awake.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Ben

  After Meg’s asshole text, she ignores my other messages, so I march to room three and knock.

  “Go away.” Maggie yells through the door. “We’re sleeping.”

  “I need to talk to Megan,” I yell.

  A second later Megan whips open the door in her pajamas, which consist of a tight pink thermal shirt and pink plaid drawstring pants. Her arms are crossed over her chest and her hair is twisted into one of those clip things leaving her neck bare. I salivate—she’s so damn cute—but remember my mission.

  She turns her head to look up and down the hallway. “Do you have to disrupt the entire floor?”

  “I need to talk to you.” I peek past her at Maggie who pulls the blanket over her head. “Alone.”

  Meg lasers her eyes straight into mine, until finally, she marches past me toward my room, her face bright red. I follow her, open the door, and direct her in. “Let’s have this out.”

  As soon as the door shuts behind us, she starts yelling. “Dave is nice, you know, and you were—”

  “Jealous,” I finish. “I was jealous because Dave saved you from dehydration, and now he wants you. And he supposedly has a magic, giant penis. I got nervous you would want him back and upset you don’t want me anymore, and I acted like a dick. I’m sorry. I suck.”

  She turns her head and gives me a sideways glance. “You do. Suck.”

  My apology seems to have calmed her. I study her little nose, her freckles, her pursed lips. She’s avoiding my gaze, sticking out her chin, waiting for me to respond. It’s like she’s on the defensive, putting up a shield against me.

  Then it hits me, and I call her out. “What are you so afraid of?”

  She flushes something fierce. “I… I’m… Afraid? I’m not afraid.”

  I see it in her eyes. I hear it in her words. She’s scared of those secrets. “You are.” I circle her, pointing at her. “You’re afraid.”

  “You have no right to psychoanalyze me, Ben. You dumped me in September to date someone else. I know you aren’t into me. I know what we’re doing here is nothing more than sex, but you have this nice-guy-complex—”

  I can’t help laughing at her ridiculous words. “Do you really think that’s why I keep asking you out? Because I’m not into you? I’m just trying to be nice? Does it feel safer to you to think that? To throw Juliet and September in my face every chance you get?”

  Megan’s gaze stays on me. “Don’t laugh at me. You know, all this time I’ve known you you’ve never been mean. Tonight, lying to Dave—”

  “I wasn’t lying to Dave.” I hold up my hand and shake my head. “You were only going out with him to make me jealous. No lies there.”

  “—now, laughing at me, you’re being an asshole.”

  “You’re afraid to date me, but you’re not afraid to date Dave. Why?”

  She doesn’t answer.

  I nod. “I know why.”

  “Oh yeah? Why?”

  “You need me to tell you?” Maybe she doesn’t realize. “You don’t want to date me because you’re in love with me and that scares the shit out of you.”

  She jerks back and her jaw drops. “In love? With you? It’s a damn contract, Ben. I should have known you wouldn’t be able to handle this.”

  “Me? You’re the one fake dating the player from the second floor!”

  She gasps. “You were on a date tonight too, I might add. Your supposed match from that stupid questionnaire.”

  “Supposed?” I challenge her with my eyes, targeting her, begging her to tell me the truth. She doesn’t, but I definitely strike a nerve somewhere because she’s fully engaged, staring me down.

  Then she stomps past me. “You know what? I don’t care. I don’t care about your dumb match or your dumb theories about love.”

  She reaches for the door, but I block her path. “You’re scared because you know that from day one I’ve been into you. You can’t figure out a way to get over the Juliet thing. I get that. And maybe you have some deep dark secrets you think I can’t handle. Whatever. But for fuck’s sake, talk to me.”

  She reaches around me to get to the doorknob. “Fuck you.”

  I blow off her angry curse. “Why haven’t you asked me?”

  Though her eyes shoot daggers, she stops trying to push past m
e. If she wanted out, I’d let her go, but she drops her hand and crosses her arms over her chest again.

  “Ask you what?”

  “Ask me to explain September to you. Ask me about Juliet, about what happened. I mean, if that’s all it is, then why don’t you just let me clear it all up.”

  “She fell in love with your roommate. What’s to ask?”

  I reach to touch her, but she jerks back. “That’s what happened between them. That has nothing to do with me or what I was feeling. But you never asked. You don’t want to hear how I feel about you, how I’ve always felt about you, because you’re scared. You only want to see the black and white of the situation. Contract sex, fucking when it’s convenient, that’s all easy. You don’t want to work through the grey. So fine. Be a chicken shit.”

  “Excuse me?” She pokes me in the chest. Even getting her to touch me in that way feels like a small victory.

  I grab her finger and hold it. “You’re this little beautiful princess who tries to act all tough, but deep down, you’re a little scared chicken. Scared to talk about anything that matters, to share your secrets. You’re even scared to pick a major. You’ll have sex with me in a car in a parking lot, but you’re scared to go on a date with me.” Megan’s jaw drops, and she gasps. “Hell, you’re even afraid to meet your match.”

  She pulls her finger away. “You have got some nerve calling me a chicken. You’re the chicken.”

  She’s redirecting and baiting me. I’ll listen. “How do you see that?”

  She moves closer and juts her chin toward me to talk in my face. “You wanted me in September, but you were too much of a chicken shit to get out of Evander and break ties with ‘your Jules.’ Since the shooting, you won’t talk about anything, you won’t go to a therapist, you practically gave up on the team, you won’t even see doctors about your shoulder, and you half-ass rehab. You gave up. You’re the chicken shit.”

  I try to stay tough, but my gut flips. She’s not exactly wrong.

  She moves away from me, pacing the small room as she talks. “Meanwhile, you’re all ‘Wah, I’m not connected to anyone,’ but you are connected to everyone here. Everyone loves you. Everyone on this floor looks to you. You’re the constant, the rock.”

  Her arms flail as she yells, her face and neck flushed, her emotion soaring through the room. She starts counting off on her fingers, “You have the football guys at the frat. You have your family. You have your Evander. Even though she dumped you for Chase, you have Juliet. You probably even have a white picket fence. Some of us don’t have that, Ben.” She raises her arms and looks to the ceiling. “You’re like this big star that shines and people swarm to you. Some of us have to work at our relationships. We’re not all naturals at life like you are. My dad and uncle are all I have. You? You have everyone.”

  I sigh with the weight of everything that’s happened since I came to NJU and hear myself beg. “Everyone but you, Meg. I just want you. How do I get you?”

  Megan puts her hands on her forehead and shakes her head. “Oh. My. God. What is happening here?” She pulls the clip from her head then twists her hair violently and clips it up again.

  The room calms, and I lower my voice. “I said you were a chicken shit and you flipped out. Which just proves my point.”

  “You know what? Fine. I can’t deal with you.”

  I’m still leaning against the door when she tries to leave. “I’m not letting you go until you apologize.” I fold my arms over my chest and slide down the door so we’re eye to eye, crossing my legs at the ankles.

  She gets in my face. “For what? For you being a jerk?”

  “You called me an asshole before, and it hurt my feelings.” I lift my chin and frown, pouting and sighing. It’s the “pretend-to-be-hurt” face I learned from Jules.

  She stands straight and puts her hands on her hips. “You have got to be kidding me.”

  I keep up the act, deepening my pout. “I have feelings too, you know. You can’t trample on them just because you’re in a mood.” I actually think Jules has said that to me.

  “In a mood? You know what? Not only am I not apologizing, I’m not leaving until you apologize.” She pokes my chest.

  Are we flirting or fighting? “Well then get comfortable because I can stand here all night looking at you in your girly jammies.”

  Megan steps back, shaking her finger at me. “Don’t you even dare try to turn this into sex, Benjamin Riley. There’s no way.”

  “Who said anything about sex? Get your mind out of the gutter.”

  Megan gasps again. “You jerk. You big, jerky… jerk. Fine.” She sits on the floor in the middle of the room. “I’m not apologizing, so I guess I’ll sit right here until you let me out.” I can’t tell if she’s kidding or if she’s seriously mad. “You know this is kidnapping, right? You’ll have to call your dad to bail you out when I file a report.”

  “I’ll attach our sex contract as Exhibit A to my defense.”

  “There you go with the sex references again. Too bad for you that we didn’t get more mileage out of our contract. Now you’ll have to go woo your stupid ninety-fiver and try to get into her pants. You know most girls aren’t as easy as me.”

  I stifle a laugh. “Easy? You call this easy?” I gesture between us, at our standoff. “If you’re so easy, I guess once Second Floor Dave starts singing to you about dehydration… or whatever, you’ll give it up to him too?”

  “Maybe I will.” She lifts her little chin to the sky again. I want to grab it, but I keep my distance.

  “You better not.” I’m not sure where that comes from, but the thought of Megan with, well, anyone, makes me insane.

  She stands again, her fists at her hips, her blush traveling down her neck. “Who do you think you are?”

  “I don’t think anything. I know who I am. I’m the one you want, not Dave. Stop being a chicken shit and admit it.” I puff my chest and wait. From the crazed look in her eye and the way she’s wrinkling her nose, I know she’s cooking up some sort of half-assed insult.

  “Admit what? That I regret every moment we’ve spent together?”

  Ouch. “Admit that you want me.”

  She snorts a “ha.” Then starts laughing. “You think I want you after this? This macho display…” she waves her hand up and down my body, “of asshole, testosterone-ish behavior? I will never touch you again, you conceited—”

  “Jerky jerk?” I tease, using her words. With a smile, I pull my shirt over my head. Upping the game, Smith.

  She grimaces but looks. I knew she would. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m getting comfortable. If I’m sleeping leaned up against this door tonight waiting for your apology, I want to be as comfortable as I can.”

  “Oh really?” There’s no mistaking the hitch in her voice. Success.

  She paces in a little circle in front of me, staring, planning. She looks to me, then to the door. Then into the room. I watch her, trying not to smile, loving that I’m making her as unsettled as she makes me.

  Until she stops moving and stares at me hard. What’s the game, Sweet Meg?

  When she pulls off her shirt, I know I’m fucked. Game over. I raise my eyebrows. “What’s this?”

  She tosses the pink thermal to the floor. “If you’re getting comfortable then I guess I will too.” I don’t want to give her the satisfaction, but I have to look. The times we were together were so frenzied that I never really got a chance to enjoy looking at her. “That’s better.” She sighs and stretches like it’s perfectly normal for her to be walking around my room topless. “It’s hot in here, don’t you think?”

  I sense her questioning tone but have no idea what she’s asking. I scan her pale skin, the freckles on her shoulders, her perfect tits that fit so nicely in my hands. “Huh?”

  “Hot,” she purrs. “In here.”

  “Huh?” My brain stops working as I watch her wandering my room.

  “You won’t let me out, and since you’r
e stuck at the door, I can go anywhere I want.” She hops onto my bed. “So, I guess I’ll sleep here. Naked. Alone.”

  Yeah, I lost this battle, for sure. I’m curious to see what’s going to happen though, so I fake it. “Go ahead. Get naked for all I care. I’m not leaving this door until you apologize.”

  She smirks at me. “I bet I can get you to leave that door.”

  I’m sure she can. In fact, I’m just about to, but I force myself to hold off. Let’s play, Smith. I push down my pants and step out of them, leaning against the wall. My hard-on thanks me as it stretches against my boxers. “I bet I can get you to apologize.”

  Megan’s gone from insanely mad to crazy sexy in about thirty seconds. She looks me over and chews on her bottom lip, planning again. She pulls the clip out of her hair, and her blonde hair falls over her bare shoulders. Then, she lays on my bed and lifts her hips, pushing her pajama pants off. She rolls onto her side to watch me. She’s in nothing but a pair of pink cotton panties, and her body makes this S curve from her shoulders, to her waist, over her hip, down her leg. Amazingly, her blush disappears even though she’s splayed out practically naked on my bed. “Move away from the door,” she says softly.

  “No.” My heart pounds as I study her. “Apologize.”

  She smiles as she shakes her head. “No.”

  Always a competition. I push my boxers down so that I’m naked and let her see how much she’s turning me on. She copies me and pushes her panties over her hips.

  Holy naked woman luring me to bed. “Are you really never going to let me touch you again?” I grab my dick and see her glance at it. “Because that would be a damn shame, considering.”

  “Considering what?” Her eyes lock on mine.

  “Considering the things I want to do to you. Apologize.” It sounds like I’m begging. Maybe I am. I’m about five seconds from jumping her.