Palm South University: Season 3 Box Set

by Kandi Steiner

  Cassie swallows. “It was never a game to me. I feel so stupid.”

  “Don’t,” I chime in. “Don’t let a boy make you feel stupid. Ever.”

  Cassie nods, the table silent now. We take turns sipping from our glasses or eating chips, all of us thinking about our own games we’ve played over the years, and the battle wounds they’ve left behind.

  A text from Clinton pings on my phone and I glance down, relieved that he responded.

  - Okay, Ex. Have a good winter break. Call me anytime. -

  - I will, and you, too, Bear. XO. -

  “In other news,” Ashlei says as I tuck my phone back in my purse. “Okay, Cool offered me an extension on my internship. I’ll be going back again next semester!”

  “What?!” Jess and I say in unison. “That’s amazing!”

  “Congrats, Lei. That’s a big deal,” Skyler chimes in.

  “Thank you. I’m really excited,” she says, tucking her hair behind her ear with a blush. “It’s going to be hard, balancing everything again, but I think I can do it.”

  “I know you can,” Jess says, hoisting up her glass again. “Looks like we need another toast!”

  We all lift our glasses with a laugh, and Jess clears her throat.

  “To this amazing group of bad-ass lady bosses conquering the world and taking absolute zero shit,” she says, looking all of us in the eyes. “You bitches inspire me, and I love every single one of you.”

  “Cheers!”

  As I clink my glass with theirs, I feel myself shedding the final layers of my old self, settling into the new Erin Xanders. And maybe that’s what that scarred skin was — it was old skin, skin that needed to be shed to find my true self. I’m not scared anymore, and I’m not giving up on me, either. Maybe I just need to toughen up, to stop putting everyone else before me and start focusing on number one.

  I will not be defined by what has happened to me, only by what I do to overcome it.

  This is it — this is what I’ve been working for my entire college career. I’m going to be president of Kappa Kappa Beta, and as far as I’m concerned, my new story begins right now.

  I KNEW SHE WAS here before I even heard the knock.

  It was a gentle rap of the knuckles on my window, nothing more, no demand or urgency in the sound. It was a soft, regretful notion, an apology, a plead for forgiveness. It struck me to the bone when I heard it, so much so that I’m still lying here in my bed, eyes on the ceiling, heart pounding hard in my chest as I work up the courage to go to my window.

  I heard about what happened between her and Grayson the day after Semi-formal, and two things struck me at the same time — one, the need to run to her, to hold her, to make her okay again — and two, the outrageous and uncontrollable urge to break Grayson’s jaw.

  I’d wanted to give into both, but I’d stayed strong, doing neither. I knew Cassie well enough to know she wouldn’t want me to run to her before she was ready to see me, and a small part of me wondered if she ever would again. She’d chosen Grayson over me, and although I wanted to believe she didn’t have a choice, that she didn’t want to, it still hurt. It still felt permanent.

  And as much as I would have loved crushing my fist into Grayson’s face, I knew that wouldn’t have made Cassie happy, either. It would have only made things worse for her.

  So, I’ve waited, my hope fading like a dying glow stick of light with each passing day. I leave to spend winter break at my aunt’s house tomorrow, and I’d almost given up on Cassie.

  But here she is.

  Kicking my sheets off, I pad over to the window in just my boxer briefs, pulling the string on the blinds until I’m standing face to face with the only girl I’ve ever loved and hated simultaneously. I love everything about her, but hate the power she holds over me. The sweetest contradiction.

  She’s standing in a simple, white tank top and plaid sleep shorts, her hair tied up in a mess of curls on top of her head as her swollen eyes take me in. I reach down, heaving the window open, the light breeze of the night sweeping into my room as I stare at Cassie. She watches me, too, lip quivering as she shrugs and lets out a long sigh of a breath.

  I just reach out with both hands, helping her climb inside just like I did almost exactly a year ago to the day.

  And just like last time, she kicks off her Keds by the foot of my bed, climbing into it first and pulling the sheets up to her shoulders. I slide in behind her, hesitant at first until she reaches back for my arm, pulling it around her middle. With a relieved sigh, I pull her closer, fitting my body to hers and holding her tight.

  “You were right.”

  The same three words she said to me last year, and they hurt just as bad this time around.

  “I wish I wasn’t.”

  I squeeze her a little tighter, fitting us a little more together, hoping she feels some sort of comfort from the fact that I’m here.

  “I’m so sorry, Adam,” she whispers, her voice breaking on my name.

  Only the moon lights up my room, but it’s enough for me to see the first tear slide down her cheek. I catch it with my thumb, wiping it away before pulling her even closer. “It’s okay. I’m here.”

  “You always are.” She squeezes her eyes closed. “I don’t deserve it.”

  “You’re always here for me, too,” I remind her. “Even when I’m an asshole.”

  She twists in the sheets to face me, one hand pressed into my chest as she looks up at me. “I just left you there. I let him make me choose. I gave you up, and for what? To keep a relationship with a guy who was cheating on me for months.” Two tears escape one right after the other, chasing each other down until they drop to my pillow. “I was miserable without you, Adam.”

  I swallow, my chest aching as my hand finds her hip, resting there. “I was, too.”

  “I’m not crying because of him,” she says, waiting until my eyes are locked on hers again before continuing. “He hurt me, yes. But not as bad as I hurt myself by making a decision I didn’t want to make, one that I didn’t believe in. I’m just so sorry. Please, please forgive me, Adam.”

  “Shh,” I whisper, pulling her into me and pressing a kiss into her hair. “It’s over, we’re okay. I’m here.”

  Cassie fists her hands in the sheets wrapped around us, digging her head into my chest. For a while I just hold her there, one hand pulling strands of hair from her hair tie as I run my fingers through it, the other rubbing soft, slow circles on her lower back.

  “What now?” Cassie whispers into the darkness, her breath on the skin of my chest.

  “We don’t have to figure that out tonight.”

  She stiffens in my arms, her breathing nearly stopping altogether as she pushes away from me just enough to lift her head. I look down at her, too — our lips just centimeters apart as she searches my eyes with her own. I swallow, gripping her waist with one hand just as she closes the space between us, her lips finding mine on a sigh.

  If time was a train, this is what it would feel like for it to slam on its brakes.

  I’ve waited so long to touch her again, to hold her, to kiss her that it almost feels like a dream. It’s as if my body isn’t my body, my hands aren’t my hands, my lips aren’t my lips — like I’m watching it all from above. I wince as her mouth opens for me, my tongue sliding in to meet hers, and that’s when the reality hits me.

  She’s here, she’s in my bed — in my arms.

  It’s almost too much, too much history and pain and unexplainable pleasure rolled into one single moment. She melts in my arms as I deepen the kiss, one hand running the length of my abdomen before tucking into the band of my briefs.

  I inhale a breath and hold it there, tongue still working hers as I flip us, sliding up between her thighs, her red hair spilling out of her hair tie and over my pillow. She moans when I kiss down her neck, sucking the skin just behind her ear as her nails dig into my back. Our breaths are so loud and heated, years of wanting pouring out without a filter now, my sheets
the stage for the show long overdue. Cassie flexes her hips against me, the hot center of her meeting the bulge in my briefs, and I groan, pulling back.

  Her eyes widen as I take a pause, squeezing my eyes shut, trying to think clearly.

  “You don’t… you don’t want to…”

  “Oh, I want to,” I clarify quickly, cock aching at the thought of being inside her. But I lift my eyes to hers, running my thumb over her swollen bottom lip. “Trust me, I want to. But the first time I take you, I want it to be us — just us. No exes, no drama, no pain. I just… I know I’ll never forget our first time, and I want to make it worth remembering.”

  Cassie swallows, nodding with tears misting her eyes as she pulls me down to kiss her again. She kisses me with all the unanswered questions we’ve shared, with all the what ifs and what nows.

  “Don’t let go tonight, okay?”

  “I’m never letting go again,” I answer, resting between her thighs again as I kiss her lips like I’ve never tasted them before, like tonight is all I have.

  I slide one hand under the cotton of her tank top, groaning with appreciation when I feel she’s not wearing a bra. My hands roam over every inch of her, palming her breasts before moving down to grip her waist again. Cassie arches off the bed, offering her neck to my mouth, nails digging into the flesh of my shoulders like she’s holding on for dear life.

  And for the rest of the night, we explore each other, kissing and touching with our clothes staying completely intact, even when it’s nearly impossible to do. I take my time with her, showing her I’m in no rush, that I’m not going anywhere — and I hope she can say the same.

  For the last year and a half, we’ve danced around each other, never fully giving in, always something or someone in the way. But now that I have her, now that there’s nothing but scraps of cloth between us, I know there’s no way I can ever let her go. I meant what I said about not figuring anything out tonight, but in my heart, I know as well as she does that this is it — this is our time.

  Cassie McBee is finally mine, and I have always been hers.

  With my heart in her hands, Cassie pulls me closer as the sun rises through my window, sealing that thought with the sweetest, most perfect kiss.

  Tweet/Instagram your thoughts on this season using #PalmSouth and join the Palm South University Discussion Group on Facebook.

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  I’m going to try to keep the acknowledgements for this season just like the episodes — short, sweet, and full of heart.

  Before I jump into the peeps behind the book, I want to talk directly to you — the reader. Palm South University is my passion project, and if you’re reading these acknowledgements, it means you’ve been with me through three whole seasons of it. I know the dedication and love that takes. You have waited between episodes, between seasons, falling in love with these characters right along with me and trusting me when I tell you I have more to tell. You’ve thrown these books at your friends, shared the sales and free promos, and without you, I couldn’t write one of my favorite things to write. Thank you for taking a chance on PSU, and even more so, for staying along for the ride. I love you.

  Now, for the ones who helped breathe PSU to life.

  First and foremost, I have to give a huge shout out to my beta readers on this season. PSU is its own little beast, and without beta readers who know and love these characters as much as I do, it wouldn’t be possible to keep the serial alive. So, thank you Kellee Fabre, Patricia Leibowitz (Trish Mintness), Ashlei Davison, Danielle Lagasse, Jess Vogel, Becca Mysoor, Katrina Tinnon, Natalie Williams, Mykayla Wilson, Haley Sue Brewer, and Sarah Green. You girls are absolutely incredible and your notes helped shape this season.

  I also want to send some love to the girls who the KKB ladies are named after — Ashlei Davison, Erin Spencer, Cassie Graham, and Jess Vogel. Circle of Trust forever, babes. I love you.

  To my tribe – Staci Hart and Brittainy C. Cherry — thank you for always pushing me to be the best that I can when it comes to my writing. I work on the hard days because of the inspiration the two of you constantly provide, and I’m so thankful to have you both to celebrate the small wins — like writing “the end.”

  I always have to thank my Momma and my best friend, Sasha, for being there between all the craziness of writing. Thank you both for grounding me and helping me work through my crazy emotions, whether tied to writing or not. I couldn’t do this thing called life without you.

  Kathryn Andrews — thank you for binge reading PSU in time to give me eyes on Season 3. I love your passion for my work almost as much as your passion for our friendship, and I am so lucky to have you in my corner.

  Thank you to my editor and formatter, Elaine York, for putting that last shiny wax on this season and making it gorgeous, as always. You are amazing at working with me and my ridiculous timelines, and because of how quickly YOU work, I can be the spazz that I am and miss my own deadlines. That’s more valuable than you know.

  To Erin Spencer and Nina Ginstead, thank you for helping me spread the word about PSU and being the best promo peeps ever. I adore both of you more than I can say.

  And lastly, thank you to my amazing readers in Kandiland and the Palm South University Discussion Group. You guys keep me going when I feel like I can’t, and it’s because of you that I get to do what I love for a living and live a dream I’ve dreamed for so long. I love you.

  A Love Letter to Whiskey

  Weightless

  Black Number Four

  Revelry

  The Palm South University Serial

  PSU Season 1

  PSU Season 2

  The Chaser Series

  Tag Chaser

  Song Chaser

  Straight, No Chaser

  Tag Catcher

  Kandi Steiner is a bestselling author and whiskey connoisseur living in Tampa, FL. Best known for writing “emotional rollercoaster” stories, she loves bringing flawed characters to life and writing about real, raw romance—in all its forms. No two Kandi Steiner books are the same, and if you’re a lover of angsty, emotional, and inspirational reads, she’s your gal.

  An alumna of the University of Central Florida, Kandi graduated with a double major in Creative Writing and Advertising/PR with a minor in Women’s Studies. She started writing back in the 4th grade after reading the first Harry Potter installment. In 6th grade, she wrote and edited her own newspaper and distributed to her classmates. Eventually, the principal caught on and the newspaper was quickly halted, though Kandi tried fighting for her “freedom of press.” She took particular interest in writing romance after college, as she has always been a die hard hopeless romantic, and likes to highlight all the challenges of love as well as the triumphs.

  When Kandi isn’t writing, you can find her reading books of all kinds, talking with her extremely vocal cat, and spending time with her friends and family. She enjoys live music, traveling, anything heavy in carbs, beach days, movie marathons, craft beer and sweet wine—not necessarily in that order.

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  Kandi Steiner may be coming to a city near you! Check out her “events” tab to see all the signings she’s attending in the near future:

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