#Poser

by Cambria Hebert

  “No.” I protested, feeling a little steadier. I wasn’t going to let some freak reaction ruin his first day back from training. “I need someone to wash my back.”

  “You sure?” His eyes searched mine.

  I stretched up and kissed him. “I want you to stay.” I reached around and grabbed the white loofah I used with my body wash and held it out.

  We took turns washing each other. He seemed a little more withdrawn than usual, and it made me worry. But once it was my turn with the loofah, my touch seemed to relax him, so I took my time and made sure my hands were extra bold.

  By the time I was done, he was back to his normal alpha male self. I wrapped my legs around his waist when he picked me up and pushed my back into the shower wall. Before descending upon my mouth, he hesitated. “This okay?”

  My heart squeezed at his genuine concern. “Anytime you touch me is okay,” I whispered.

  We made out until the water turned cold, but he never tried for more. He seemed content just to explore the inside of my mouth with his tongue and make me squirm against him.

  When the water was off, he wrapped a towel around me before himself and rubbed my shoulders vigorously to get me warm. He didn’t dry himself until after he’d lifted me out of the shower and stood me on the fluffy rug I’d bought for the floor.

  Once he was dry, he pulled on his shorts and then watched with hooded eyes and I blow-dried my hair. It was gonna have to be a braid or something kind of day because I didn’t feel like going to all the trouble straightening or curling it.

  Once it was dry and I applied lotion to my face, I reached for my clothes, but B beat me to it. The attentive way he helped me dress bruised my heart in some weird way. His tenderness was almost unnerving.

  “Are you okay?” I asked.

  He paused and glanced up. “I’m straight.”

  I rolled my eyes. Lord, he was talking in bro code. “I’m a girl.”

  His smile flashed. “I’m well aware.” To punctuate his sentence, he grabbed my boob.

  He was so stupid I smiled. “What the hell does ‘I’m straight’ mean?”

  Braeden stepped closer and slid his palm along my waist, caressing the dark-green silk halter-top I wore. “It means everything’s all good.”

  “I’m sorry I freaked in the shower. I guess you just scared me.” It seemed like a dumb explanation, but it was the only one I had.

  “Are you still having nightmares, Ivy?” His tone was a little grim.

  I glanced away. What did that have to do with anything? “I don’t know if I’d call them nightmares,” I hedged. Of course, the dreams were about Zach and the horrible mistake I made of sleeping with him, and any dream about Zach could be considered a nightmare.

  “Ivy,” he growled, a note of warning in his tone.

  This was clearly something that bothered him, so I fessed up. “Sometimes.”

  I pulled back and picked up the white shorts I matched up with my top and slipped them on. They were super cute, made of loose material with extra white fabric around the waist that tied into a big white bow. I concentrated extra hard on tying that bow instead of the way Braeden crossed his arms over his chest and stared intently.

  “If you ever need to talk about it, I’m here,” he said.

  A laugh bubbled out of my throat. Right. Like I was going to talk to him about the guy he hated and that one time I had sex with him.

  But he wouldn’t be deterred. Gently, he grasped my wrist and pulled me away from the mirror. “I mean it, Ivy. You can talk to me. Even about this.”

  I nodded. “I’m fine, honestly. They’re just dreams. It’s probably just karma making sure I get what’s mine because I was so stupid and slept with him.”

  “You’re not stupid,” he said, harsh, and paced away. He couldn’t go very far because the bathroom wasn’t that big. When he turned back, emotion burned behind his eyes. “I hate that you beat yourself up over this.”

  I didn’t say anything because I did regret it, and nothing was going to change that.

  He reached out and fingered the necklace around my neck. “I love you, Blondie.”

  Why did it seem like he was trying to say a lot more than just those three words?

  “I love you too.”

  The air in here was thick, so I opened the door to let in some fresh. “Go get dressed. I’m starving.”

  I heard him in the bedroom, talking to Prada, as I styled my hair in a messy bun on top of my head. The entire time, I couldn’t stop thinking about what happened in the shower and just now when he asked me about my dreams.

  Why did it feel like he thought the two were connected?

  What was I missing?

  Chapter Four

  Braeden

  Her body remembered.

  It remembered exactly what her mind wanted to forget.

  It made perfect sense now. The dreams, the weight I sometimes noticed on her shoulders, and just now in the shower… Her body knew exactly what happened.

  The mind and body were connected in ways we would never understand. So even if Ivy’s brain didn’t know why it was reacting, the body told it to anyway.

  Did I make the wrong decision? Should I have told Ivy about the pictures I found, about the proof of her being sexually assaulted?

  I felt like I was being shown two roads to travel, but neither of them led to my destination. I was damned if I did, damned if I didn’t.

  Maybe it seemed exaggerated now because I’d been gone. Maybe all the changes of her moving into this house, getting a job, and me leaving were just a lot to deal with all at once. Now that I was back, I could be around more. I could make sure she felt safe. Maybe things would calm down.

  School would be starting back up, we would all fall into a routine, and her body’s memories would fade. The fight or flight response surely would too.

  Right?

  God, I fucking hoped so.

  I couldn’t stand to watch it. To see her body react and her eyes fill with jumbled emotion, then guilt. She thought her torment was punishment for having sex with that dirt bag.

  I’d never in my life hated someone as much as I did Zach.

  And that was saying something, because I was such a hothead. I didn’t even hate my father the way I hated Zach.

  Hate was a dangerous emotion. It could drive a man to do things he might not ordinarily do.

  But love was just the same.

  This was the reason, up until now, I kept women in a neat little box wrapped up in a just for fun bow. Deep down inside was this place, a place I always sensed was there. I hid it behind a smile and sarcasm. I posed as a guy who didn’t have what I did inside.

  Darkness.

  A place where anger lived but so did fear. Fear and anger made a deadly cocktail.

  My love for Ivy was so strong it had the ability to unleash that darkness.

  So did my hate for the one who hurt her.

  Ivy was still fussing with her hair and face when I was done throwing on a T-shirt and tan cargo shorts. Why women fussed so much over themselves I would never understand. Ivy was fucking gorgeous the second she rolled out of my bed in the morning. She didn’t need to make such an effort.

  But Ivy didn’t see herself the way I did, the way most other people did. She thought she needed to do all that to make herself look better. I could tell her it wasn’t necessary until I was blue in the face. Still, it wouldn’t matter. The thing I learned was putting herself together was something she needed to do, if only for herself. Makeup and shit was sort of like her happy place, like football was mine. I wasn’t gonna bitch or argue about it. I’d love her no matter what.

  I stopped in the bathroom doorway and admired the way her silky green top rode up on her midsection, exposing a smooth patch of skin as she fussed with her hair. “I swear to God, woman, you take longer in here than it took all the founding fathers to create the Declaration of Independence.”

  Just ‘cause I wasn’t gonna argue over her hobby didn�
�t mean I wouldn’t tease her about it.

  She shuddered. “Ew. Did you see those men’s hair? If I were making history, I wouldn’t have looked like that.”

  I snickered and crossed my arms over my chest and leaned in the doorway. “I bet they were studs back in the day.”

  She lowered her arms, shirt falling back into place. So I admired her round ass instead.

  She made a rude sound and turned from the mirror. “If they were studs, then the women back then had no standards.” I liked the way her nose wrinkled with distaste and the way her eyes took on a shade of green to match her top.

  “You look hot,” I told her.

  She rolled her eyes, but I knew she liked the compliment. Girls like compliments.

  “Such a way with words,” she mused.

  I caught her around the waist and pulled her into the doorway with me. I leaned back and spread my legs, bringing her up against me. “I told ya I’m not good with words.”

  “The way you kiss makes up for it.” She leaned in, but I turned my face.

  “Is that all I am to you?” I joked. “A piece of man candy?”

  She licked me.

  Took that wicked tongue of hers and slid it right up the side of my face.

  “Man candy? No. Sour Patch Kid? Totally.”

  I wiped my face with the back of my hand. “Have I ever told you what a good kisser you are?” I deadpanned. “The best.”

  “I have been told that before…” she mused.

  I lunged at her, catching her around the waist and turning us so she was against the doorframe and I was in front. I moved fast, lightly digging my fingers into her sides, getting all the spots I knew would make her squirm.

  “Stop!” she shrieked and jerked, trying to avoid my tickling. “Braeden James, stop it!”

  “Ooh, someone means business.”

  She laughed and collapsed against the doorframe. Prada came racing out into the hallway and started barking at us. When Ivy kept laughing and screeching, Prada jumped on my leg like she was going to attack me and save her favorite girl.

  I relented and pulled back slightly. Ivy’s cheeks were pink from the commotion and her top was slightly askew.

  Prada chewed at the end of my shorts and pulled. Ivy laughed and scooped her up. “Good girl,” she crooned.

  “That vicious thing tried to attack me, and you tell her she’s a good girl?”

  Ivy pushed out of the doorframe, carrying the dog. “Oh, you poor thing. You could have been seriously hurt.” She stuck her lip out in a pout but slapped me in the midsection as she moved past. “Man up, Nancy.”

  I grinned and swung around to follow her. “If I were a woman, my name would not be Nancy. I need something with some sass.”

  Ivy turned and glanced at me over her shoulder as she walked, her eyes amused. “This is quite an interesting conversation, but I need coffee.” All her attention moved toward the fluff ball in her arms. “And this little princess needs some breakfast.”

  The entire way downstairs, I admired the view of her behind. What happened in the shower was seemingly forgotten. There was no trace of it in her eyes just now.

  But I knew better. I knew it was possible to hide stuff way down deep.

  I did it all the time.

  I had a feeling Ivy did too.

  Chapter Five

  Ivy

  My favorite sport was shopping.

  But if anyone asked, I’d say football.

  Wouldn’t want to offend Braeden and Romeo, you know.

  Seriously, though, what was better than the thrill of finding the perfect outfit? A hot sale? Going into a store and seeing nothing but racks of possibility lining the walls was exhilarating.

  The colors, the fabrics, the shoes… the makeup.

  Yep, shopping was where it was at. I even liked grocery shopping.

  But there was one kind of shopping I didn’t like.

  It was basically the black sheep of the shopping world.

  Textbook shopping.

  Ew. Like who wanted to go into a stuffy old store that smelled like must and mold and sort through piles and piles of books that contained knowledge about chemistry? Or math.

  Now I’m not talking about a nice little bookshop with coffee and romance novels. Those were fun. I liked a fun beach read just as much as the next girl.

  But school books?

  Boring.

  And because I disliked the chore so much, I put off buying my books as long as humanly possible… so the campus bookstore was out of one of the ones I needed. That meant I had to go off campus to this little bookshop a few streets over from the boutique.

  At least Braeden went with me. Being with him made the task a lot less torturous. The place wasn’t busy, and it didn’t take long to get what I needed. Not like the campus bookstore. We’d been there for like two hours.

  The place was flooded with college students, some of them clearly freshmen, looking fresh faced and frazzled at the same time. But then there were the regulars. The students who’d been attending Alpha U just as long as I had.

  Seeing them all answered a question I’d had since classes ended last year.

  Would everything the #BuzzBoss said about me (aka Missy, aka my backstabbing friend) be long forgotten? Or would my unwanted status as a #slut still haunt me?

  The second I walked in, I’d known.

  People didn’t forget as easily as I’d hoped.

  And it seemed that me being on Braeden’s arm made me even more interesting.

  I caught the stares, the casual double glances. I noted the way a few cellphones came out and the people attached to them started typing furiously.

  Great.

  Just what I needed.

  Everyone sending Missy a report on my every move. I could only imagine what would show up later on the Buzzfeed.

  Braeden acted like he didn’t notice, but I knew he did. Just the way he angled his body toward mine while we were getting books and the set of his shoulders spoke volumes.

  He saw, he understood, and he didn’t like it. He acted like my personal living, breathing shield.

  Just knowing that caused two reactions within me:

  1) Safety. I felt safe because I knew with him in my corner, things couldn’t possibly get as bad as they did last semester. Now that Romeo was gone, Braeden had a lock on the most popular guy on campus. People would be more afraid to harass me, for fear of his retaliation. Not only that, but he loved me. It’s amazing what the love of the right man could do for a girl.

  And

  2) Fear. Yes, this was the complete opposite of the first reaction. What could I say? Braeden always had a way of bringing out extreme feelings in me. I liked—no—I loved knowing B was here for me. I loved knowing he was my anchor. But. He had a temper. I hadn’t always understood why, but now that I did… well, it wasn’t something I could just forget about. I knew Braeden would never hurt me. He’d literally injure himself first, but that didn’t bode well for others. He was extremely protective, extremely territorial… and he wasn’t going to just sit back and let rumors fly. I was honestly afraid he might do something that would come back and hurt him later.

  However, bringing all that up to him in that moment was just bad timing. So I didn’t. I smiled and pretended I didn’t see the sideways looks as we got books and supplies. Of course, we could barely walk two feet without people approaching Braeden. Most of them were football players, and everyone was nice.

  It made me relax some. Maybe I was just overreacting.

  Too bad that feeling was short lived.

  After we went to the old, creepy bookshop to get the one book the campus store didn’t have, we walked over to a nearby café.

  It was a total college place. A lot of the students hung out here, especially the upperclassmen because they all had cars.

  The café sat high on the sidewalk, so much that you had to walk up about five steps to get to the courtyard that led to the front door. Down the center was a regular
sidewalk, but on either side were flagstone patios with black wrought iron tables and chairs.

  The building itself was made of brick. It sort of looked like a cottage, not like a modern café, as the name suggested. The windows in front were arched and the front door was painted black with a bright green symbol in the center. The words LOTUS: Coffee with Atmosphere were spelled out in small letters beneath it.

  Funky music played through the speakers and filled the outside space. People milled around and talked over coffee and food.

  I was tense.

  I hated being tense. Going on campus today and facing everyone for the first time since last semester totally frayed my nerves. Usually, I was good at hiding any insecurities, but not right now. Right now I felt like a long length of perfect rope…

  That had been hacked off halfway with a pair of dull scissors.

  The ends were coming undone, tattered and messy.

  I really hoped my hair didn’t look the way I felt.

  As if he could sense the frazzled way I felt, Braeden draped his arm across my shoulders and pulled me into his side as we walked toward the door.

  “B!” some guy yelled from a table off to the right.

  “Yo!” Braeden swung around, pulling me with him.

  Toward the back of the courtyard was a round table full of a bunch of the Wolves. It was almost funny the way their huge bodies took up so much space and made the table seem insufficient.

  “Bring that girl over here,” the guy hollered.

  I swallowed and Braeden chuckled. “Ready to meet the fam?” he said low as we started toward the table.

  “Do I have a choice?”

  “Nope. You know they all want a look at the girl who brought me down.”

  I felt my hackles rise. It was a welcome feeling. A familiar feeling. I wore that spunk like a great-fitting leather jacket.

  I glanced around the table and my eyes fell on Trent. He winked, and I grinned.

  “Trent!” I said and pulled away from Braeden.

  He was already getting up and coming around to greet me. Before I thought better of it, I flung myself at him, giving him a hug. He hesitated for a second but then returned the quick embrace.