The Valentine's Dare (The Sycamore Serial Book 1)

by Owens, Nicolette

  “Ah - fuck.” Kierra watched his face spasm, his brows draw together as he worked in and out of her faster and faster, until finally he groaned and fell forward. “I’m gonna come.”

  She kissed his ear. “Do it.”

  He did, his thrusts shallow as he came, legs twitching, hands clawing the bedsheets. Kierra kissed him and he kissed her back, staying inside her for the briefest of moments after his orgasm.

  “I don’t know about you, but I could use a glass of water.”

  Kierra smiled at his ever-gracious attitude. “Now that you mention it, I am parched.”

  Mason extracted himself from her embrace and pulled what he could find of his clothes back on, his eyes on her as he backed out the door. “Be right back.”

  She had no doubt of that. Once the door was closed, Kierra sighed and leaned back on his bed, an impossible smile on her lips. I should’ve done this sooner, she thought, realizing how relaxed and happy she felt for the first time in a while.

  Her underwear was on the floor. Kierra pulled it back on, then walked around the room, half out of curiosity and half to look for her shirt. His roommates will be home any minute, she thought, cheeks burning at the memory of how much sound they’d made in the bed. I hope he has understanding neighbors.

  Mason’s room was full of bookshelves, his books organized in a haphazard, color-coordinated manner. He had a large wooden desk that was covered in papers, pens, and other supplies, and beside it there was a large chalkboard on a rolling frame. Kierra went over to it, looking for a place amongst his math notes where she could write a naughty word or two.

  It wasn’t math, though - not exactly. Up close, she could see that besides the numbers, the board was covered in names. Some of them were familiar, like Mason’s roommates Thomas, Frankie, and Glenn - who she’d heard of but never met, because he was out on foreign exchange. There were other names, though, all boys’ names, and each one had a row full of numbers beside it. So it’s some kind of spreadsheet, then.

  Her eyes fell on the bottom right corner, where a sentence with two blanks had been filled in. “The prize of the year is a total pool of: $1,047. The target of the year is: Kierra Adair.”

  Kierra stared at her name for a moment, then glanced back up the chart, barely registering other words. “February 14th, 2015 by 12pm EST. A kiss wins 1 point, a date 2, and sex 3. 4 points are needed to win.”

  She didn’t quite get it until she remembered what Lacy had said: “every year, Mason hooks up with the Matchmaker during the dance instead of his date. It’s kind of his thing.”

  And he had a bet running about it.

  One that he’d just won.

  He was standing at the counter opening up a bottle of wine when she stormed out, her face red, eyes full of unshed tears.

  “I don’t ever want to see you again,” Kierra said, those eyes meeting his in a blaze of hatred. “Stay the hell away from me, Mason Pryor.”

  He reached for her, but she was gone before he could even say a word, the slam of the door in its frame reverberating through the whole room. Mason stood there with his mouth agape, corkscrew halfway through the cork in the bottle, when he realized what must have happened.

  “I’m a fucking idiot,” he breathed, furious with himself. “I left her in the room with the chalkboard.”

  How was she supposed to know that in just a few hours he was going to cancel the bet and pay out the pool to everyone, costing him over $1,000 in cash? All she saw was what she was worth - to him, to his friends, to the whole building. No wonder she ran out.

  For a moment he considered going after her, trying to explain - but what could he say? The truth was, Mason hadn’t done anything to cancel the bet before they slept together; he hadn’t even thought he’d get that far.

  I’m a fucking idiot, he thought, as he finished uncorking the bottle and prepared to drown in his sorrows. I lost the best girl I’m ever gonna get.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Saints and Sinners

  February 14th

  The dreaded day arrived, and like every other Valentine’s Day in Kierra’s life, it was full of heartbreak and disaster.

  It’s been a week and a half since she’d seen - and slept with - Mason. By avoiding the clubs and adjusting her schedule, she’d managed not to get closer than 100 feet away from him. Leila and Lacy had helped as well, fending off any visitors at the door and checking the hallway before she left for class to make sure he wasn’t outside.

  To Mason’s benefit, though, he had made himself scarce. Leila and Lacy hadn’t told her if he’d come to the door to talk to her, but if he had he’d been warned off in no uncertain terms - and apparently, he’d listened.

  She didn’t know how that made her feel.

  Thankfully she had enough on her plate with the dance; sitting around and thinking about her feelings wasn’t an option. Kierra had thrown herself into the preparation of it, and she was pretty proud of how everything had turned out. For one thing, all her decorations were spot on; and for another, all her matches made sense.

  Except, of course, for setting Mason and Anna up, she thought; but at the end of the day it was what they both deserved. Talk about a couple created by destiny.

  If the thought of them together pained her, it was only some lingering feelings that would soon be gone - so she told herself, at least.

  “Where do these go?” Kierra was interrupted from her reverie by one of the freshman volunteers coming up to her with a dozen heart-shaped mylar balloons. It was the day of the dance, after all, and they had preparation to do.

  “Over there. Tie them to the chairs behind the table.” She pointed at the far end of the ballroom, near the head table where all the snacks and drinks were going to go. “What was your name again?”

  “Carey,” the girl said, beaming brightly. “Nice to meet you!”

  Her enthusiasm was so sweet that Kierra could feel her teeth rot. “Thanks for volunteering.”

  “Of course!” Skipping away, the girl set to tying the balloons up. Kierra stared at the floating, red-and-pink monstrosities, more convinced than ever that Valentine’s Day was just a cheap excuse to make her feel sad.

  Needless to say, cheering up in time for the dance was going to be difficult. Let’s just hope the vodka gets here before I need it even more than I do right now. The only thing worse than a lonely February 14th was a sober one.

  Kierra cast her dark thoughts away and busied herself with the seating chart and corsages. Each of the tables set up in one half of the ballroom had a spot where a name placard would go; under the placard they each got numbered corsages, which had a twin somewhere else in the room. At the right moment in the night, Kierra would announce it was time, and everyone would pin the corsage on their dress, get up, and look for their date. All she had to do was survive until that moment; after that, everything was out of her hands.

  “Looking good, chica.” Kierra turned to see Leila entering the ballroom and looking around at the decorations.

  “It’s only halfway there. I still need the food, drinks, music, lights… and of course the people.”

  “About that.” Lacy popped out from behind Leila, her short frame barely reaching the other girl’s shoulder. “Are you going to be alright tonight? What with Mason being here and… everything.”

  “I’ll be fine.” Kierra smiled reassuringly, but even she could feel how fake it looked. “It’s not like we were engaged or something. So we had a shallow, poorly planned one night stand, but without all the alcohol. So what? I’m considering it my toxic rebound. Now I can move on.”

  Neither of the girls appeared to be convinced at all.

  “Just let us know if you need something tonight,” Lacy said. “Anything at all.”

  “I don’t want to ruin your date with Frankie.”

  She shrugged. “Hoes before bros. Sistas before mistas. Chicks before dicks. Ovaries-“

  “Okay, I get it, I get it. No need to keep going.” Kierra held up a hand to fo
restall her continuing. “I’ll be fine, okay? Now go, and pretend like you don’t know who your dates are tonight.”

  “Got it,” Lacy said, grinning.

  “I actually don’t know who my date is,” Leila said. “But whatever.”

  “He’s the only guy at Sycamore House who’s taller than you?” Leila scrunched up her brows in thought, but seemingly came up with nothing. “Thomas, Leilei. It’s Thomas.”

  “Right.” Leila glanced over at Lacy. “So we’re dating Mason’s roommates. So what. Nothing awkward about that, right?”

  Kierra tried to hide how nervous it made her feel. She felt bad, but she was almost hoping their dates went poorly, because otherwise she knew Mason would be in her life more - and even with his graduation just months away, she wasn’t sure she could take that.

  Lacy changed the subject. “I’ve got to go study for my chemistry test on Monday. There won’t be any time tonight, after all.”

  They left, and Kierra turned back to her work once more, but somehow she couldn’t get the nagging feeling out of her head that she was forgetting something. It was only hours later, staring at hands as red as the balloons, that she would realize what it was that had slipped her mind.

  To say that everything went off without a hitch would have been an exaggeration.

  In truth, the dance started off well because Kierra had planned things so thoroughly. Volunteers at the entrance helped people with their coats; at least one freshman was always available to escort them to their seats; the food was far away from the door, to encourage people to enter the room and visit along their way; and the music was loud enough to keep the energy up but not so loud no one could talk over it - with a dance playlist to go on when the lights dimmed and the romance began.

  Kierra kept herself occupied as much as possible, flitting around the ballroom to check on things, her strappy heels clicking on the floor as she made her way around the perimeter of the room. If she was tense, it certainly wasn’t because every few minutes she looked up in anticipation of seeing Mason enter; it was just because she was in charge.

  Keep telling yourself that, she thought sardonically, glancing at the punch as she passed the food and drinks table. What she wouldn’t give for a glass or three right then. Maybe after everyone has arrived and I’ve announced it’s time for the dancing to begin. After all, no one would be looking at her once they had their dates on hand.

  Speaking of dates, she turned and saw Lacy standing with Frankie. They hadn’t gotten their corsages yet, but she had a feeling they knew; or at least, Lacy did. Broke the rules with that one, didn’t I?

  Spotting her, Lacy said something to Frankie and then crossed the room, a smile playing on her pixie-like face.

  “If you somehow screwed the pooch and forgot to set me up with him, I’m gonna be way pissed.”

  “Really? Because I doubt he’d say no to a trade.” Kierra leaned in close, lowering her voice. “He totally was staring at your ass as you walked away.”

  Lacy beamed. “That’s exactly why I wore this dress! You look great in yours, by the way.”

  “Thanks.” Kierra was wearing a knee-length dress with slashed black-and-red; the red was on theme for the night, while the black set off her hair - and expressed her true feelings about the day.

  “I actually came over to tell you something.” Lacy was practically grinning with glee. “Something Frankie told me.”

  Oh boy, here she goes. Kierra kept her mouth shut tight, knowing as usual that Lacy would spill the beans faster if she pretended like she didn’t care about the gossip.

  “Okay, okay! I can’t hold it in.” Predictably. “Frankie just told me something about Mason.”

  Kierra froze. “Really?” her voice came out strangled and awkward.

  “Trust me, you’re going to want to know this. Apparently-“ she leaned in close, stage whispering. “Apparently, and Frankie is pretty upset about this, he cancelled the bet.”

  Kierra frowned. “But he won, technically.”

  Lacy shook her head. “No, he backed out of it at the last minute. And in order to do that, he had to lose, so he paid out everyone who bet against him - and from what Frankie said, it cost him a pretty penny.”

  “Frankie’s upset about that why?”

  Lacy sighed, frustrated. “I thought you’d be excited about this.”

  “Nope, not excited, not at all.”

  Stomping her foot in frustration, Lacy raised her voice. “But obviously he did it because he cares about you!”

  Suddenly it seemed like the whole room was staring at them. “Keep it down a bit.”

  “I’m just saying.” Lacy lowered her voice again. “If he’d just wanted to win the money, he could have. But he didn’t. That has to mean something.”

  It probably did. Kierra just wasn’t sure she could handle figuring it out what it meant. “Thanks, Lace. You should probably go back to your date, though. He’s motioning this way.”

  “I will. Just promise that you’ll think about it.”

  Fat chance I’ll think about anything else all night. “I promise.”

  About thirty minutes after the guests had started to arrive, when the room was almost full and the playlist was trending towards sappy song, Kierra glanced over to the door and saw him.

  Not the boy from the fourth floor who made her smile; not the tender, French-speaking scavenger hunter who carried her up four flights of stairs.

  It was Brooks.

  She felt like someone had poured a whole bucket of cold water down her dress and slapped her repeatedly. Even from across the room, the urge to turn and run was overwhelming. What the hell is he doing here? He can’t possibly have an invite, he doesn’t even go here anymore.

  That’s when she remembered what it was that had bugged her all day.

  Mason’s third roommate, Glenn, was out on foreign exchange. She’d been given a placard for him and had even set him up with a girl, because Frankie had told her there was someone coming in his place; a grad student, specifically. When Kierra had asked him what his name was, Frankie hadn’t been able to tell her; so she’d set him up with a girl she’d been told was a lesbian and considered it no more. But she’d never gotten that final name from Frankie.

  He couldn’t possibly have gotten back in, she thought, barely noticing as she body-checked another student in her haste to back away from the door and put as many people as possible between her and her ex. Not that fast. Even his father’s lawyers couldn’t have done this. Everyone knows what he did.

  But did they - did they really? Sure, they knew he put a guy in the hospital, but did they know that Evan hadn’t fought back at all, hadn’t so much as laid a finger on Brooks? Did they know what his face looked like when his hands were covered in blood, what happened when the guy he was beating up fell unconscious and he kept going and going, like God himself couldn’t hold him back?

  Only Kierra knew; and beyond speaking to the police on Evan’s behalf, she hadn’t done anything about Brooks, not in the tangible sense. There was no restraining order, no proof of her fear of him. She’d thought his school suspension would be enough to keep him away - at least for a while; at least until the year was up.

  Of course he’s here. I couldn’t have just a little bit of heartbreak on Valentine’s Day; I had to have a lot. Spotting a freshman, Kierra intercepted his trip to the food table.

  “There’s a guy over at the door who just came in - auburn hair, blue eyes, red tie. I need you to double check his invitation; he’s not a Sycamore House resident.”

  “Sure thing, boss,” he said, disappearing into the crowd, which was much too thin for Kierra’s taste.

  Wanting to make herself scarce quickly, she hurried over to the hallway that led to the bathroom, trying to face away from the doors at all times. Please don’t let him see me, please don’t-

  A hand on her arm stopped her. She froze, a rabbit facing the jaws of a predator.

  “I didn’t know you wanted to avoid me t
hat bad.”

  Mason. Kierra sighed audibly, turning to face him, her heart still recovering from the scare. “I didn’t see you come in.”

  “Oh. I thought you were avoiding me.” His hand fell off her arm, his eyes downcast. Kierra surprised herself by worrying for him; he looked almost gaunt, his face thin, his eyes darkened by lack of sleep.

  “It’s just a little awkward, you know?”

  Wincing, Mason looked away. “Right, of course. Because of…” he shrugged, looking helpless and small. “I get it. I wouldn’t want to be around me either, after what I did.”

  The look on his face was agonizing; Kierra had to harden her heart to keep from forgiving him right then and there. “There are worse things you could’ve done. Why don’t we just agree to let it go and move on, okay?”

  Mason glanced at her, his eyes hollow. “Move on? If that’s what you want.”

  “It is,” she insisted, making sure there was space between them, a visible gap between her and her temptation.

  “Then that’s what we’ll do. After all, we’ll be seeing each other plenty.”

  “I’m glad you understand,” Kierra said, genuinely.

  “As long as we’re being friendly…” Mason glanced out into the crowd; Kierra followed his gaze, spotted an annoyed-looking Anna across the room. “Since you set me up with my ex-girlfriend, I think you owe me at least one date.”

  Kierra opened her mouth to acquiesce - what harm could it do, at this point - when her eyes slid past Anna to the figured behind her, who most certainly hadn’t been kicked out of the dance.

  Brooks was still there, and this time he was looking back at her, his eyes penetrating. She shivered, frozen to the spot; for a long moment no one moved, no one even seemed to breathe, and then Brooks glanced over - and right at Mason.