Our Secret: A College Bully Romance (Golden Crew Book 1)

by Belladona Cunning

  Fuck. My. Life.

  The air steadily releases from my lungs. This would be the moment I’d assure her she won’t, no matter what happens, but I can’t lie to her like that. Last time I moved away, we were only a few hours apart, and the friendship fell apart within a few months. We may be older, but history has a penchant for repeating itself.

  So, no. I’m not going to give her false hope. Giving her false hope will give me false hope. And false hope, even though I already know the outcome, will still hurt when I have to leave.

  Giving her a small smile, I lightly pat her hand. I know that won’t go a long way to making her feel any better than right now, but it’s all I have. All I can give.

  Making my way out of the apartment, I head across campus. Where usually I’d look through the trees and revel in the somewhat cooler autumn breeze wisping around my body, I find that I no longer care if it’s warm or bright with sunshine. My world is a constant state of gray, and I don’t even know how to go about getting my spark back.

  Heading into Meece Building, I keep my eyes on the floor and run through what I need to do. First, I’ll need to stop by the financial aid office to see if I can ever transfer. Sometimes, colleges are fickle as fuck when it pertains to leaving. So, I need to make sure they can accommodate me. Hopefully, they can.

  Second, I need to tell my dad and Duncan my plan. I’ll probably do that tonight. Duncan will be upset, no doubt, but hopefully, he will help me out a little bit. If GOU made me wait four months and it’s as small of a town as this, then I’d hate to see what hoops a larger university will make me jump through.

  Lastly, I’ll need to break the news to Maverick. He’s been so excited to come back to my hometown. Even though he’s two, he’s smart as a tack. He wants me to take him to every place I went to when I was little. Breaking his heart is going to rip mine to shreds. Lord, I can hardly bear the thought.

  My chest aches as I slip in through the door. Grabbing my shirt, I clench it in my fist until the pain subsides. Coming closer to my desk, I dump all my things to the floor except my laptop and brochures.

  Already, I can feel his eyes burning against the side of my face.

  The same way it’s been since the Monday after our ill-fated kiss. Coincidently, the same day I woke up in the clinic. That’s weird.

  On the inside, I’m reeling and all jittery, but on the outside, I appear emotionless and numb. Even with everything that happened, I can still feel him like he’s an integral part of me. It’s sickening.

  Or is it … I shake my head roughly, nearly growling under my breath. It’s sickening that I want the person who hurt me the most. Period.

  Sitting down, I open my notebook and grab a pen. Since class hasn’t begun, it’s as good a time as any to continue with my search for different schools. It’s a hapless pursuit, filled with broken hopes and dashed dreams, but I have to at least try. Again. All with the hopes that it will keep my little boy safe.

  Opening my laptop, I quickly swivel the mouse, so the screen alights once more. I search through a list of colleges, all the while his gazes burn into the side of my head. Shit must be about to start up again if Hunter is deigning to acknowledge my presence this intently. Usually, it’s a passing glance, and maybe, just maybe, a lingering stare from him, I catch out of the corner of my eye. But he’s never outright stared at me this keenly.

  “Tidewater.” His voice is quiet, subdued. “Virginia?”

  It burns on the tip of my tongue to answer, but I withhold. Easier to ignore than it is to confront. And if I let my mouth run free right now, I’d be tempted to ask him what his game his. He can’t just be all pissy, broody, and telling me I shouldn’t be here—oh, and that I disgust him—one moment, then gazing at me like I’m a priceless mystery he wants to solve the next.

  Clicking out of that screen, I review another. For the first ten minutes of class, I research and ignore everyone, even Mr. Erikson. The entire time, I feel his brooding presence like a vice around my lungs, and it’s practically smothering me.

  The hour-long class seems to drag on for days, even though I know I’m being dramatic for thinking so. It’s simply hard sitting here next to him, wanting nothing more than to ask why. What did I do for him to turn on me and treat me like I’m nothing more than disposable?

  By the time the torture session comes to an end, I’m over adulting for the day and ready to go back to my apartment. However, before I can gather all my things, Hunter is right there, blocking my path.

  “Can we talk?”

  “Uh … that’d probably be a no,” I half-ass reply.

  He growls softly under his breath, the sound deep, gravelly, and temping. “Stop ignoring me.”

  “Ignoring you?” I mull over the words. “Weren’t you the one who nearly … let’s see,” I say, ticking off each finger, “Well, you initiated a kiss and nearly tore my clothes off in the process. Then, when you were caught by your girlfriend, you told me to fuck off and that I disgusted you. Oh, and now you have the gall to demand I stop ignoring you? Did I leave anything out?”

  Bringing my gaze to his, I raise an eyebrow in challenge. But instead of being met with anger, I see a heat so startling hot blazing in his eyes. It makes the back of my neck start to sweat. Swallowing hard, I try and fail to break the connection. Getting lost in Hunter’s allure will definitely be the wrong idea.

  We stare in silence, and clicking sounds through the room as various students and rubberneckers take our pictures.

  What is this, high school?

  His eyes flick down along my body, causing that familiar tug in my lower stomach to bloom. His tongue flicks out and runs along his lips before he takes the plump piece of perfection between his teeth. “No, but I got what I wanted anyway,” he finishes with a wink.

  The troubling thing is, he’s right. He got me to stop ignoring him and all with a few words. Goddammit. “It’ll be the last time.”

  “We’ll see about that,” he grunts.

  As quickly as they met, our eyes separate. Hunter’s glare rakes over the classroom, making all the dumbasses shove their phones back into their pockets and go on about their business. All within the span of a minute.

  I guess when you’re the golden boy of the town, that applies to all things.

  “So,” he says, turning his attention back to me. “Virginia, huh?” Was I hearing things, or did he sound kind of … sad?

  Yeah, I definitely am hearing things. “None of your business. I’m gone, you should be happy.”

  Instead of replying, he sits there in his chair, legs widely spread apart and relaxed. His pointer finger trails along his upper lip as his eyes burn into mine. Hunter being quiet and subdued like this, is not a good thing. Even I know that, and I haven’t been around him for years.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I spy someone growing closer to Hunter’s and my staring contest. Reluctantly, I pry my eyes from his and glance over at the newcomer. It’s no one I’ve met before, but by the pin on his shirt—who the fuck wears that shit after high school, I’ll never know—he’s our freshman class representation.

  “Hey, Hunt,” he quickly greets him amicably, but then just as fast, he turns his attention to me. “Wouldn’t happen to be Harloe Rose, would you?”

  My brows furrow. “Yes. Can I help you?”

  Hunter fumes, “Get lost, Ramsey.”

  Ignoring him, I focus on the newcomer who looks as pale as a ghost as his eyes flicker between Hunter and me. “D-Did I come at a bad time?”

  “Yes—”

  “No.” I glare at him, watching as a dark smile threatens to tug at his lips. “Seriously, Hunter?”

  Rolling my eyes, I give—Ramsey, I think his name is—all my attention. “You were saying?”

  Hunter fumes silently from beside me. I can’t stop myself from peering at him from the corner of my eye, watching how his hand curls into a fist, and how all his attention is on the side of Ramsey’s face so intently, you’d think he was imagining his fist
right there for interrupting us.

  Honestly, it serves him right. Hunter should know what it feels like to not get what he wants, and right now, he wants to talk to me, and he’s not getting it. Take that, asshole.

  Ramsey explains, “You’re needed in the Dean’s office. As soon as possible, please.”

  While confused, I say, “I’’ be there after my last class of the day, so can you tell him it will be around 3?”

  He nods and thanks me, and then turns around, leaving the way he came with a bit of pep to his step. I can’t help but notice that he stares at Hunter over his shoulder with fear riddling his chestnut brown eyes.

  Gathering my things, I toss my bag on my shoulder and begin walking away. But being the guy Hunter is, he can’t have that. He always has to have the last word, and since that Ramsey kid interrupted us, he didn’t get that.

  “Never pegged you for a chicken, Lo.”

  Pausing briefly, I crane my head to the side. Surely, I didn’t hear what I thought I did. Peering out the door, I call back, “Repeat that?”

  Then, I peer back at him, noticing that Hunter now has a challenging glint in his eyes. If it were just me, I’d stand tall and show him what I have left in me. But it’s not, so he’s going to be sorely let down if he’s expecting a fight out of me.

  My options are limited; his are endless.

  “Leaving,” he states in that sexily lazy way of his. “That’s a coward’s way out. The Harloe I know wouldn’t give in so easy.”

  “I’m not a chicken,” I seethe.

  “Really?” He licks his lips and takes the bottom one into his mouth. Dragging his teeth along the surface, he releases it with a smirk and a fuckboy chin jerk. “Fucking prove it.”

  He thinks he’s baiting me, but he’s not. I’m luring him. Hunter is nothing if not inquisitive, and what I’m about to say will leave him guessing.

  “Innocence has no place in the hell you’ve created.”

  Hunter’s brows shunt inward. Clearly, he’s perplexed by my words, but like, all men he refuses to admit it. His gaze is hard and unyielding as if commanding me to explain further.

  However, I’m not in the business of giving him what he wants anymore. Falling for his mismatched eyes and sexy tricks got me in a bind last time. I won’t do that anymore. Giving him an empty glower, I turn around and head toward the Dean’s office.

  CHAPTER 17

  Silencing my cell once more, I curse my older brother under my breath. He just doesn’t freaking get that I don’t want to speak to him. Not now—not ever, if I can get away with it.

  Nothing will go back to the way it was before. I’m not going to magically grow close to my family. I haven’t since I found out about Harloe, and I don’t foresee that happening in the future, either. Owen needs to get the hint that if I wanted to speak to him or anyone else in my family, I would reach out to them.

  Not like that’d do me anyway, regardless if I was ready to talk or not. But if they want to believe that, that’s okay, too. I’m not going to stop them.

  Dropping the towel, I tread toward the glass-encased shower and step underneath the hot spray. Immediately, I groan from the hot water pelting against my sore muscles, relieving the pain from my evening workout. Putting my hands against the wall, I hang my head between my shoulders and simply allow all the stress of the day to roll off my back and down the drain.

  Shit’s all messed up. Has been since I had that grand idea to throw a party that ended up backfiring in my goddamn face. Big time. Not for the fact that I got whole ass drunk that night, but because of what happened when I was drinking.

  It hardly leaves my mind, and when it does, the smallest thing will trigger it, and here the memory comes running back like crack to a junkie. I can’t escape it, can’t outrun it. Harloe is stuck in my mind where she’s been the last three years. Except, where I was full of hatred before, I’m filled with self-loathing now.

  Even though I have options, the only person I think about has emerald eyes, a sassy mouth I can’t even say I wouldn’t enjoy filling, and a temper like no other. Even today, she’s my match in every way, and I hate it being thrown in my face, but powerless to do anything about it.

  Fucking Harloe. Always messing shit up for me.

  The blaring ringtone alerts me to my brother calling once more. Its piercing wail continues to ring, and ring, and ring out over the sound of water slapping against the marble tile in the co-ed shower.

  “Get the goddamn picture already!” I yell out, my muscles tightening and releasing as I try to keep myself from shattering that piece of shit all over the tile floor.

  The sight reminds me of the predicament I’m in at the rental as well, angering me even more. Easton, Zeke, Leo, and our other roommate haven’t been in for even two months yet, and it’s already breaking down. Oh, it looks nice, cosmetically, but behind the picture, everything is falling apart. My shower is toast, and so is the guest bathroom. The kitchen disposal doesn’t work, and we’ve been hand washing dishes for a fucking week.

  I’m over it. Too much shit is breaking in my life, and I can’t handle it. At any moment now, I’m going to snap and hit the closest thing to me.

  Control is what I need and crave. Except, it’s the only thing I don’t have. What’s going to go next? My weight training?

  Weightlifting to get ready for next season is kicking my damned ass, and I’m having a hard grasp of keeping up with the older places on the team. Something that’s never happened to me before, and now I’m knee-deep in it.

  I’m knee-deep in everything, sludging around in half-ass boots and expecting not to get dirty. Without weed and having to slack down on the drinking, I’m more on edge than I’ve ever been. You’d think I’d learn how to control this anger raging inside me, so I could be in control, but I’m nowhere close.

  Instead, my sense of control is like an entity, and it’s micromanaging me. The only thing I want is peace and quiet, no one to bother me while I get my head back on straight. I don’t give a shit what happens afterward, but until then the only thing I want is to collect my thoughts like a rational son of a bitch, possibly jack off because that’s all the action my cock is seeing nowadays, and get my shit straightened out in my head.

  Also, I want to figure out Harloe’s reason for coming back to Golden Oaks. Something tells me that she’s not here because she wants to be, but because she has to be. What could make her, the girl who used to eat guys like me for breakfast, change so dramatically?

  Oh, trust and believe there is still a fire inside that girl. A blazing inferno that still draws me in, even while I’m clambering to keep my distance. But that’s always how it’s been with her. That’s how it all fucking started between us.

  And I’ll be fucked when she showed up in class today, with that fucking laptop and those fucking college brochures … I don’t know. I just—None of that felt right.

  As I start shampooing my hair, the main door to the co-ed bathroom opens and shuts. Not paying any attention, I start rinsing out my hair—that is, until my shower door opens. Immediately, I halt my actions. Looking up, I don’t bother covering myself up, because whoever it is must know that it’s me and want something. They’d have muttered their apologies and stepped off, otherwise.

  Everyone always does.

  No matter who it is, what they want, or where it will take them—that’s all anyone ever sees in a Prince, especially me. I’m nothing more than a steppingstone.

  A familiar face blinks at me through the steam, and I find myself stiffening even further, only this time with rage, as I resume rinsing my hair. “What do you want?”

  She says nothing but starts undressing like she didn’t lose that right when she almost had her girls drown Lo in the toilet. Like any red-blooded male, my eyes should be skimming down her body as each inch of flesh is revealed. But I can’t be fucked to even pretend to care.

  When she’s fully naked, Cass steps into the shower and allows the door to close behind her.
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br />   “Saw you come in and figured I’d join you.” She smiles coyly, nibbling on her bottom lip.

  I hope she doesn’t expect me to buy that crap. There’s nothing innocent about her. That’s one of the reasons I started this “acquaintance with benefits” arrangement. Can’t say we’re friends because, you know, she’s a bitch.

  And we’re definitely not anything now. “Get fucked, Cass. I told you weeks ago I was done with your bullshit.”

  That’s also the exact reason I know she’s trying to play me. Cass and I may fight like cats and dogs, but we both know it’s purely physical between us when we were together. Now that we’re not, she has to have ulterior motives.

  Since I broke it off with Harloe sophomore year, I’ve made it clear to anyone I fuck—which has mainly been Cassandra—that I don’t do the whole ownership thing, unless it’s me owning you. I was very explicit about that. And since Lo, the needs have never been there.

  It’s not going to work with me. I belong to no one, not even myself.

  “We both know you weren’t serious.” She playfully slaps her hand against my chest when she gets close enough.

  “What’s the real reason you came in here?” I ask, grabbing my shower gel.

  Her smile grows larger. Only, I couldn’t care less what she’s smiling for. I’m not fucking with her games anymore, so whatever she has planned, it can go on somewhere else. I’m exhausted, still have to hang with the guys tonight for beers, and I refuse to be yanked in different directions. Harloe’s presence alone is doing a bang-up job of that.

  Finally, when she sees her fake smile will get her nowhere, her entire body seems to depress right in front of me. “We haven’t been together in quite a while, and I figured … well, you need a little outlet just like I do.”

  “Get this through your head—we are no longer going to fool around.” I make sure to enunciate every word, so she has no choice but to take my words at face value.

  Crossing my arms, I lean back underneath the spray, so it’s hitting the middle of my chest. Water slides down my body in rivulets, attracting her heated stare. Then her eyes jump up to mine.