Chapter 2
Jackson
What amazes the hell out of me about this college campus is not the awesome architecture, but the number of slutty women and asshole guys roaming around. I assume that given the Rhode Island location, a lot of these pretenders are trust fund babies. I really don’t give a damn that they have money, but some of them act like idiots because of it. My first rule for college life: stay away from assholes. While sitting in the enormous park that flanks the entrance to the main building, under a tree with the latest edition of Top Gear, I decide this is where I intend to stay when I’m not studying. I also intend to keep my one and a half good friends as they are, and everyone else will be an acquaintance. I have no time for fake bullshit. I say half because I know Jade is my friend and her roommate Maia, well, I think she genuinely dislikes me. Which is awesome, because she’s hot and sweet, and I have no desire to meet someone here at all. So long as she keeps me at arm’s length, it’s all good. Although I can’t help but feel like it might be fun to change her mind.
I flip the magazine shut and stare up at the sky as it shoots off a kaleidoscope of oranges, purples and blues. The nervous habit I have of rubbing my palms together and interlacing my fingers causes me to look down and inspect my hands. My nails, though I attempted to scrub them well, still bear remnants of engine oil and congealed grease. The callouses on my hands remind me of the years I spent ratchet in hand, tightening bolts and clamps. Had I not had the hands of a hardworking man, looking at me you might assume that I was a pretty boy. That’s precisely why my hands are the best part of me.
I reach into my pocket to retrieve my phone. Scrolling through the camera’s images, my fingers stop when I reach a photo of a long-haired blonde and a sweet little girl with olive skin and bouncy light brown curls. I pinch the screen until the blonde woman is completely removed from the image and stare down at the little girl’s magnified face. As I examine every little delicate feature, I notice that when I look into her eyes, they mirror mine exactly. I didn’t tell Jade I found her. I didn’t tell Jade that I spent almost every cent that I earned on private investigators to find her. I didn’t tell my parents either. No one knows, except me. Just like no one knows that one day after a few beers too many, I had dialed the number the investigator gave me and was greeted by the sweetest little voice in the world on the other end. And no one knows that when her mother took the phone from her hand and I called her out on her lie, she gently hung the phone up. No love lost there, I guess.
And then that moment, you know that point when you just have to say “Fuck it!”? I had a moment like that one. I know she’s lying, but the investigator showed me a birth certificate without my name on it. And to think I didn’t follow Jade to Brown because I was waiting in a small time suburb in the hopes that one day she would come back home. I squint as the glaring afternoon sun peeks at me from behind a silver-lined cloud. This is precisely why I have no desire to go near another woman anytime this decade. I know I probably shouldn’t be so bitter; not every girl is Shana, and I am definitely a lot fucking smarter than I was back then. No hat, no sex; a simple rule that I could kick myself for not following in high school.
I shake my thoughts away from the negativity that is invading my mind. I’m here for a new start. I hold my hand over the phone, my finger hovering over the menu button wherein the delete function lies. The bouncy curls and bright eyes stare back at me and I close the gallery. I’ll keep the photo. And make sure Jade never sees it. If she knows I found Shana and didn’t tell her, she’d never forgive me. I shove the phone into my pocket, deciding that distraction is my best option. As I make my way to the huge campus library to try to find my textbooks for this semester, the familiar golden brown hair and frame of my half-friend comes into view. I pick up my pace to a casual jog until I catch up to her. Maia has changed into a pair of yoga pants and a razorback tank. She has taken her makeup off and I wonder to myself why she even bothers with that shit to begin with. She’s even more beautiful without it.
“It’s not safe for you to be out here after sun down unescorted!”
My teasing comment causes her to stop and visibly stiffen. I jog up the last few stairs until I’m one step above her. She pulls her hair into a messy bun as she turns her head in my direction.
“Hey!” Her expression is pleasant, and it stuns me.
Maybe she’s not so stone cold after all.
Judging by the way she’s fumbling with the corner of her book bag, she’s nervous as hell around me. I don’t get this chick. I really don’t. I may not be interested in anyone, but I generally have the ability to charm the pants off of anyone who’s unfortunate enough to come near me. But her obvious indifference to me makes me want to ask her what her favorite food, color and movie are.
“What are you up to?” I ask, as casually as I can muster.
“Just need to grab a few books,” she answers, chewing on her bottom lip nervously, though her eyes stay focused and determined. Her lips may be her only tell.
“Mind if I tag along? I have no idea where to look for what I need. Little help please?” I cringe inwardly, preparing for the shutdown that she’s about to hand me, and my face morphs into obvious shock when she answers with a casual shrug of her shoulders.
“Sure,” she replies.
We make our way past the eight librarians that occupy the enormous reference desk and situate ourselves at one of the study spaces towards the back. She lays her book bag down and looks towards me. “So, what do you need?”
An image flashes through my mind of Maia, laying flat on her back right here on this table, with me running my hands up her thighs. I shake the daydream away, pulling my face at how random it was. And I look like a real idiot because Maia is staring at me expectantly, waiting for my response. Thank heavens I chose to wear my straight leg jeans and Calvin Kleins instead of boxer shorts. Without those constraints, I wondered how the hell I would explain my instinctive physical reaction to her question. “Um, I, yeah I have to look up the list on library catalogue.”
“Okay.” She offers me a small smile and we walk over to the library’s PC station to get started.
Maia obviously spends way too much time in here. I can tell by the way she skillfully attacks the computer to get my book lists, and how she seems to know their exact locations in each aisle and section without reading the signs above the shelves. I am especially grateful when the books I need are lower, because when she bends, the top of her black G-string makes an appearance ever so slightly above the elastic of her yoga pants. Not to mention that her ass looks amazing in those pants in the first place. Calvin Klein, I really owe you for all your support.
The last book I need is Technology in Mechanical Engineering, and is on one of the higher shelves. I offer to reach for it, but she ignores me. “I need to make sure it’s the right one,” she responds, before using the wide library shelves as a ladder to climb up and locate the book.
“Be careful,” I warn, but my lips curl into a grin as I enjoy the view. Her tank rides up slightly to reveal the smooth skin of her lower back. Just as she is about to come down, book in hand, she loses her footing and teeters unsteadily on the shelf. Arms outstretched, I steady her just before she missteps enough for her ass to hit the deck. For the briefest of moments she leans back into me. Her hair smells like cinnamon and sandalwood, her skin like cocoa butter. Not even Calvin Klein can protect my honor when she’s this close to me.
And in no more than two seconds flat she’s out of my arms, off the shelf, and walking towards her book bag. I lean down to retrieve my stack of books and make my way to the table. As I arrive, she hurriedly packs up her shit, says goodbye and walks straight out the door. And I wonder two things. Firstly, what did I just say about women, and secondly, what the fuck just happened?
Chapter 3
Maia
As I hightail it out of the library and get as far away as I can from Jackson, one thought keeps flying through my mind. What the hell just
happened? As I’m absconding from the library back to my dorm room, my phone buzzes incessantly in my hand. I glance down in the middle of my purposeful strut to see the familiar flashing MOM across the screen. I can’t deal with her right now. Hell, I can’t deal with her anytime. But especially not now. My thoughts revert back to the library and Jackson. What the hell? I made the decision before coming here that I was emotionally unavailable. Who am I kidding? I’m an emotional hot mess. Well, at least I was until I came to Brown. But still, I found myself in the library, purposefully finding the editions of his books that were on the bottom rows, showing off what I consider to be my finer assets. I had to resist every urge to wrap my hands around his strong arms when he caught my fall. And then I made everything awkward by skating out of there like my ass was on fire.
I shove my dorm room door open, making a mental note to call my mother tomorrow, and fling my book bag onto the bed. Jade peeks her head over a monster of a textbook and raises a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. “Everything okay, princess?” She sounds bored saying it, but I know by that her indifference isn’t anything rude; it just is what it is.
“Fine.” I offer her my best plastic grin and grab my toiletries and robe.
“I’ll be out tonight, won’t be home till late,” she reports as I fumble for my flip flops in the walk in closet.
“Oh?” I reply. My curiosity piques, wondering whether she’s going out with Jackson.
“Yeah, I have a date. A hot one.” She shoots me a sinful grin, promising that her night is going to include much more than a friendly chat over dinner and a glass of wine.
“Anyone I know?” I am clearly fishing for an answer, and Jade can definitely tell because her bored expression rapidly changes.
“I don’t think so, probably because you refuse to interact with anyone except me. I can’t imagine how that’s possible. Unless you’re assuming you know who it is,” she deadpans.
“Funny,” I retort, throwing my loofah sponge at her head. “I thought you might be taking Jackson out to show him the nightlife?” And now I’m so obviously prying that I may as well just come out and say it.
“Shit!” Jade’s hand flies to cover her mouth. “Jackson. I told him I’d hang with him tonight.” She reaches for her cell and dials using a single speed dial button.
Yup, she’s definitely into him. Two attempts later, she tosses her phone over her shoulder. “Voicemail. Ooh I know! You’re home tonight right?” She rattles the sentence off in a matter of milliseconds.
I’m slightly miffed that she assumes I have no social life, and tragically depressed by the fact that she’s probably right. “What, what do you want?”
I’m always skeptical about Jade’s bright ideas. She convinced me to ride the orientation party bus at the beginning of the year, and I wore her puke for half the night and held her head over the toilet for the remaining half. Suffice it to say I’m not a fan.
“Amuse him for me for tonight? Please? You won’t regret it I swear it to you. Please? Go to the Bean, hang out here, do whatever,” she pleads, batting her eyelids with feigned innocence.
On the basis that her begging is nothing short of pathetic, I look toward the window, roll my eyes, let out an exasperated sigh and turn back nodding. “Fine.” I pull the door behind me with the pretense of irritation, but try as I might, as I make my way down to the shower, I can’t wipe the stupid grin off my face.
I don’t mention the awkward library incident that happened not but an hour ago to Jade. I agree to occupy Jackson because it’s a no-brainer. After I ran out on him, there’s no way he has any intention or desire to hang out with me for the night. Easy. He’ll come to the door, I’ll tell him Jade had to go out and he’ll turn on his heel and go somewhere other than here. Still, with no explanation why, I grab my razor and tweezers off the chest of drawers and shove my coconut and lime body butter into my shower caddy. Rejection is best served with sweetly scented skin and the absence of stubble on one’s thighs.
An hour later, clean shaven and soapy shower fresh, I sit on my bed nervously twirling locks of my hair between my fingers. I’m wearing pajamas, the final part of my plan to ensure that I don’t give Jackson the option to ask me to go anywhere. Jade left fifteen minutes ago, wearing a band aid that doubles as a dress. Lucky guy. He won’t even need full function of his arms to get her out of that tonight. A sharp, short single knock on the door distracts me from my thoughts. I wring my hands together, another nervous habit, as I make my way to what feels a lot like my impending doom.
Jackson’s eyes meet mine as I open the door. It’s obvious that he’s surprised to see me, although I can’t imagine why, since I live here. “Hey!” I try to sound as nonchalant as possible, but I notice my voice is still an octave or two higher than normal.
“Hi,” he answers casually, and if I didn’t know better, I’d say he was trying to hold back a smile. His brows pull together when he sees that the room is minus Jade.
“Something came up. Jade had to go,” I offer in explanation.
“Right,” he scoffs, “you mean someone came up, don’t you?”
I smile back at him; at least he understands the paradox that is Jade as well as I. The fact is that she is obsessive compulsive about cleanliness, but doesn’t share the same obsession with punctuality or follow-through. “It’s cool if you still wanna hang out here for a while though,” I respond with a much keener demeanor than I had intended.
He looks unsure about what to say at this point, and I can imagine that he’s trying to rationalize whether I’m just being polite by asking, or whether I genuinely would like him to stay for a while. “If you’re not busy,” he replies, very cautiously.
Are you kidding me? He seriously wants to stay after my weirdness this afternoon! I roll my eyes and sigh, calling on my best ‘whatever’ expression. “Yes, because often when I have somewhere to be, I go in my pajamas.”
He feigns confusion. “Do you really? Well, that’s just odd.” His cocky grin just gets on my damn nerves. I sidestep him and he ambles over to Jade’s bed, collapsing with porn star precision onto his propped up elbow. The bed creaks in protest.
I sit cross-legged on my own bed facing him. He’s looking, no, staring straight at me, saying nothing. “What!” I finally ask, irritated.
“Just trying to figure out what you New Yorkers feel constitutes hanging out. Where I’m from it generally involves more talk, less silence. Oh, and the person you’re hanging with normally looks as though she actually wants to be there,” he answers sarcastically, which pisses me off.
I open my mouth to unleash my own sarcastic rebuttal, but my phone buzzes on my bed, distracting me. At the same time, an envelope appears under my door. My father’s familiar company seal glares at me from the expensive white paper. As is the case every month, a check replaces the phone calls and encouraging words that other students receive from their parents. I walk over, pick it up, and fling it into my bedside drawer. I situate myself back on the bed and give Jackson a quick once over.
If he looked tasty in a white V-neck tee and jeans, he looks absolutely edible in a light mint green dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up and dark blue jeans. His hi-tops look so clean and white, they’re almost blinding.
“So, how about a game of twenty questions?” I suggest.
“Really?” he asks incredulously. “I haven’t played games like that since high school.”
“Any better ideas?” I retort. “I just assumed that two people who don’t know each other from a bar of soap might find it useful.” Yep, there’s no doubt that my stint in the library has created a little awkwardness between us.
“You ask first,” he says. I square my shoulders off and tie my hair into a knot. “Whoa!” He throws his hands up in mock surrender. “You look like you getting ready for war. Should I be scared?”
“Definitely!” I nod with mock seriousness. As much as I’m trying to keep up the hard ass front, I have to say the edges are cracking slightly as I find my
self becoming comfortable with Jackson.
Chapter 4
Jackson
I’m not going to lie, I am nervous as hell sitting here opposite Maia. And the idea of the two of us playing a game of twenty questions is a bad one. Although, it has to be better for my self-control than a game of truth of dare. I’d be forced by my hormones to dare something completely wicked. She seemed shaken after that envelope was pushed under the door, and I’m tempted to ask why, but I really don’t know her like that. Not yet, anyway. I rub my hands together in typical villain style. The question I’m searching for is supposed to be witty, cocky. But after racking my brain for almost a minute to think of the perfect question, I give up and go for the easy option. “Where you from?”
“Manhattan. Not far,” she answers without lifting her eyes from the bed.
Okay then, this game is going to last all of five minutes at this rate. Not what I had in mind.
“Same question to you,” she challenges, this time raising her eyes to meet mine.
“Suburbs outside of Atlanta, Georgia,” I answer matter-of-factly. I now realize that she’s just being polite, to get this over and done with as quickly as possible. She knows where I’m from because it’s the same place Jade is from.
Her lips spread into a wide grin then, and a mischievous glint appears in her eyes. For a moment, I just stare. She has fucking hot eyes. If ever there were a way to describe bedroom eyes, this would be it. And I may have figured her out all wrong
Scared of Beautiful Page 2