“Breathe,” Hassan said, suddenly in her ear. “You look like you’re not.”
Eh. Turned out she wasn’t. Edy exhaled in a gust as they turned onto Louisiana State University’s sprawling, rolling mass of emerald greens. Another worry hit. What if she couldn’t handle the college curriculum? What if she wasn’t smart enough or sturdy enough to keep pace with school and the dance team that paid her tuition? She attempted to beat her fears back with a dose of reason. She had sound DNA as the daughter of two brilliant Ivy League grads; she could do this. She had done so much already. She had the foundation for college. She could keep up. Confidence was key.
Hassan slipped his damp fingers through hers and she squeezed. They’d be absolutely, positively, fine. Damn her nerves, she was an awesome dancer and a top tier student. She—they were born for this moment in their lives.
Ali spun the steering wheel for a sharp right turn and the suitcases piled in the front passenger seat went for a slide. He shoved them back with characteristic impatience. Edy glanced down at Hassan’s hand, comfortable alongside hers and smiled.
“Look, Edy,” Hassan said, voice a whispered awe. “Death Valley.” He pointed to a massive uprising of rounded white concrete, LSU’s colossal football stadium. It seated more than a hundred thousand, and at least on one occasion housed a crowd so ferocious, so hysterical from an out-of-nowhere win, that their reaction registered on the Richter scale. That was the school Edy chose to attend; that was the stadium and the crowd she’d dance for.
Suddenly, there was very little breathing room in the car.
She focused on the back of Hassan’s head as he continued to stare out. Silken black locks, sun-streaked in brown and brushing his neckline, once again he’d let his hair grow wild. Most days she longed to rake her fingers from root to ends. Now, she wanted to put her hands there and curl into him, making the world disappear.
Hassan turned to face her. “We’re here,” he said in wondrous fashion. “College.”
“We’re here,” she echoed sickly.
“Edy will get out first,” Ali said. “We’ll ensure her bags make it to the room, then we’ll settle you in, Hassan.”
‘We.’ ‘We’ll ensure her bags make it to the room.’ ‘We’ll settle you in, Hassan.’
Had Hassan heard it, too? Better still, did it mean that Ali and her father were doing things together again? Edy put the question aside for the moment, content with the happiness that hope brought.
Mounds, that she’d read were Indian burial grounds, swelled the landscape, undulating it. Buildings that hinted at some Italian influence dotted here and there with smooth, tan stucco rushing up to brilliantly red rooftops. The oaks were everywhere, bursting with bright green plumage and shading the wayside across wide spans of meadow. Moss-strewn magnolias swept near the ground in a breathtaking version of southern beauty Edy had yet to know.
Hassan glanced back at her, with his warm green eyes, shot through with gold, and they shared a single broadening smile. This was their home; the place they’d chosen to start life together. The story of them would pivot in this place, at this moment.
Maybe she should kiss him.
“You want me to kiss you?” Hassan said slyly, quietly. “You look down when you do.”
Edy laughed and discreetly flipped him off. One of these days, her actions would take him completely by surprise.
“Let’s get this over with as quickly as possible,” Ali announced. He glanced at Edy’s dad with clear worry; the latter looked as if he hadn’t slept since Rebecca left him. “There’s still much to do.”
They found her dorm, Laughton, after some twisting and turning. Once there, the jutting, seven-floor edifice complete with fluttering purple banners welcoming new and returning LSU students stood stark.
Edy’s gaze dropped to a cluster of grinning girls, each distinctly slight and lissome, with hair in a bevy of subdued and wild styles: long, black and bone straight, strawberry blonde and endlessly curly, boyishly short, shock purple, and shaved on one side.
“Cake? You okay?” Hassan said.
Edy snapped to attention. They’d parked in front of Laughton. Fear squeezed her heart.
“Yeah,” she said.
He gave her an admonishing look, acknowledging the lie, before climbing out the rental car. Edy followed, steps quick, eyes down, pointedly ignoring the girls on the staircase.
They weren’t waiting for her, were they? No, that was dumb. Why would they be?
Hassan yanked out first one suitcase then another from the trunk, strong-arming most of it. When Edy moved to help, Ali stayed her with a hand. She suppressed a sigh.
“Good afternoon, fellow LSU dancer!” came a bright voice. “My name’s Tamela Carpenter and I’m one of your teammates. Is this your family?”
Oh God, they were here for Edy. An impossibly short girl stood before her with boobs that needed to be tied down. She had a square face and blunt mouth, as if her lips perpetually practiced scowling. For whatever reason, those same lips tried out a smile too big for comfort.
Edy winced, then looked around as if she’d forgotten who she’d come with.
“I’m her father,” Edy’s dad said from behind her. He stood up straighter, commanding more dignity in that single gesture than any she’d seen all day.
“Alas,” Ali said. “We’re but neighbors.” He gestured to himself and Hassan.
“I’m her boyfriend,” Hassan said. “Hassan Pradhan.”
“Oh wow, I thought that was you,” said a girl with blonde pig-tails. Another nudged her roughly in the ribs.
“Well, I’m Tamela,” the first girl reiterated. “Your captain.” She let the declaration ruminate for a while, as if to ensure Edy understood what that meant.
The warning felt palpable. But when the girl’s smile returned, bursting to fullness, it was enough to make Edy wonder if she’d imagined it all.
“Since he’s Hassan Pradhan,” the captain said, “you must be Edith Phelps. Our only dancer from Boston.”
The blonde with the pig-tails broke from the pack and pulled out a rumpled sheet of paper. “Got it, Tamela.”
Standing next to him, she could feel Hassan’s impatience. He shifted with her bags and tried on a tired smile.
“Great! And you prefer Edy, right?” the captain exclaimed. “We’ve been expecting you. All those accolades, the Boston Ballet, and New York School of Ballet, too? We are looking forward to seeing what you could… teach us.”
And there it was. The bit of cattiness her warning tone had hinted at.
“I’m looking forward to what I can learn here,” Edy said carefully.
It was the right thing to say. When the captain smiled this time, it lit with authenticity. “Your roommate, Naomi, is already here. As are these clowns.” She jerked a thumb at her entourage. A rolling thunder of names ensued. Edy caught only some of them. Holly, Kaylee-Courtney, Bonnie, Dawn, London. They descended, wrapping her on all sides and launching into some bizarre song about music and motion and sisterhood. Edy resisted the urge to squirm, remembering her lifetime of discomfort with girls and her preference for the all-boys club of Hassan and the Dyson brothers. She’d made up her mind to end that foolishness. What better way to go at that in earnest than with her new teammates?
She forced a smile, but figured it looked peculiar. Luckily, Ali was there to save her.
“Ladies,” he said. “We appreciate this warm welcome, but…” He gestured at Hassan.
Tamela withdrew and the girls followed her lead. “Yes, sir. Right.”
Edy could feel the eyes on her as they made their getaway. Then, she heard it.
“We’ll be back to check on you once you’ve settled in,” Tamela called. “Make sure to leave this evening free.” A fresh round of giggles followed.
Edy checked in, signed her dorm contract, and received a key. Three floors up in the elevator had them facing a lengthy narrow hall with doors dotting both sides the whole way down.
“
This way, I think,” Ali said.
Hassan bumped luggage against everyone’s legs, since he had the most, earning curses from his dad the whole way down. Eventually, Edy found her door. She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders to meet her room and roommate.
She opened the door to a miniature sitting room. Purple and gold hit her like a strong drink to the gullet. Cheap pine was strewn throughout the place, but this was her space now. And she loved it.
Edy went for what she assumed was her room, only to crash into a tall, willowy figure with nut brown hair twisted into silken locks and gathering at the back for a massively billowing, awe-inspiring afro.
“Edy?” she said. “Naomi.”
Edy grinned like a dork. This was the girl she’d been emailing all summer, once the school confirmed that they’d be roommates. She’d never seen her so why did she have this overwhelming urge to hug her? Naomi yanked Edy into her arms.
Hassan grinned at her stupidly, knowingly, and began moving the luggage into the bedroom.
She hugged Naomi back, smiling weakly while surprised at herself, then followed Hassan into the bedroom where he and Ali piled the luggage up amidst more cheap pine furnishings. Edy’s father stood back. When they were done, Hassan turned back to her with what looked like hesitancy. It was then Edy realized that although he’d be within walking distance, she had no idea when she’d see him again.
“Cake,” he said. It was time to leave.
She met him with the intention of telling him to go on, that things would be okay, but somehow the words didn’t form. His words didn’t form either.
Edy wondered how a boy she’d known her entire life could make her breathless. She was breathless now.
“We should go,” his father announced. “I’d like to remain on schedule.”
Edy closed her eyes. Hesitation followed. Hassan grasped her face with both hands and covered her mouth in a touch of delicious sensation. Cinnamon, sugar, and heat pressed in, then snatched away with his shuddering exhale.
“And you wonder why your mother didn’t come,” Ali said. With a polite nod at Naomi, he nudged his way out the door, completely forgetting to say goodbye to Edy.
She couldn’t help but cringe.
“I’ll call around later to see if you need anything,” her dad said to the floor and went the way of Ali.
“Right,” Hassan said. He smiled first at Naomi, then at Edy. “I better go.”
“I’ll say,” Naomi said and pursed her lips teasingly.
Hassan grinned, devilishly this time, and with both men out the door, swept Edy into a crushing hug. “I missed you this summer.”
She laughed and felt stupid when her vision blurred. “I missed you way more,” she said. After that, he headed for his own dorm.
Chapter Seven
Despite Wyatt’s promise to Lottie, he didn’t want to sit around waiting to stumble upon Edy. First, she’d never believe it was a coincidence. Second, he couldn’t stand the wait. Just breathing the same air as her rushed the blood through his veins and bled the loneliness from his bones. He ached to see her. A glimpse of Edy would ease his need.
“What are you thinking?” Lottie asked, bare legs stretched from the cream couch to the glass coffee table of the Baton Rouge townhouse he now rented. “Seeing Edy?”
Wyatt dropped into a chair. “No.”
“Liar.” Lottie licked, then bit, into an obscenely long Snickers bar and puckered her lips at him. “You need to stay away from Edy for now,” she said for the hundredth time. “Otherwise, she won’t buy into you running into her.”
“She’s not going to anyway.”
Lottie gave him an inscrutable stare. “So, what? You’re just going to hunt her down?”
Wasn’t that what they’d already done? Wyatt looked away, annoyed.
“You’ll scare her off.”
“Then why am I here?” He cursed. He thought about smashing some shit.
Lottie shrugged. “Winning her over?”
“How?”
She made a point of devouring half the candy bar before answering. “Maybe we should start with Hassan instead of her. There’s got to be a weak link in their relationship.”
Wyatt threw up both hands. “I’ve been through that, Lottie, and got shot for my trouble.”
She snorted out a laugh, then buried it with a hand. Wyatt smiled despite himself. “Yeah, so, I got shot,” he said, extra surly. The event only filled him with a little bitterness now. He knew his stupidity had played a part.
“Getting shot gets you extra cool points, at least.”
“What?” Wyatt said. “Why?”
“Because it’s bad ass. Do you have scars?”
Who the hell got shot and didn’t have scars? “Uh, yeah?”
“Well, it gives me an idea,” Lottie said.
“I’m not getting shot again.”
“No, not that. But it’s a better plan than staring at Edy.”
He probably wouldn’t enjoy it as much though. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Lottie stood, and her razored blue-jean shorts failed to cover even the whole of her pockets, leaving white fabric to poke out the front on her thighs. “Instead of staring at Edy, you’re going to compete with Hassan and be the better man.”
Wyatt snorted. “Ha ha.”
“I’m serious. You’re going to be sexy. We’ll clean you up and drop money at her feet.”
Wyatt shook his head. “She doesn’t need money. She never has.”
Lottie dismissed this with a wave. “There’s always something to want. A purse, shoes, a vacation—”
“Those are things you want,” Wyatt said.
“Well, maybe we can all get them together. Rome would be awesome.”
He’d take them to the fucking moon if it got him somewhere with Edy at last. Still, Wyatt sighed. It was one thing to talk about rivaling Hassan Pradhan but his cousin had never seen the guy’s muscles or heard girls go on about his eyes or the buttery-melt of his smile. He was smooth, easy with people in a way that awkward Wyatt could never manage. Not to mention that he’d never known Edy to want more than a charm bracelet here or song for her iPhone there. He tried to tell Lottie all this, but she waved it away with a hand.
“Let things play out. Something has to work.”
But it didn’t, right?
He wanted Edy bad enough to hope. He had missed her friendship so desperately it ate away at him in California, even as he nodded and agreed and pretended to understand the “objectification he had subjected her to”, as his psychiatrist put it. He had only ever loved her. That could never be wrong. It was why he could never turn off his feelings, even when he shoved back at them and her in anger. Even when he screamed her away and wept, snotting into his pillows, she remained right there in his soul. Edy Phelps was the most intense, overwhelmingly desperate ache of his being. When they were friends she had cared for him. She had showed him more attention and love than anyone ever had. Wyatt had fouled that up; he had pushed too hard, too fast. For his trouble, he’d wound up riddled with bullets.
“Wyatt. Seriously, you have got to stop thinking about that girl all the time. Let’s get crushed instead. That’ll help,” Lottie said.
Wyatt gave her a long look. “Crushed?”
She rolled her eyes like she did when he didn’t know who sat on top of the Billboard Charts. “Slammed. Sloshed. Slizzard. Peeled. Drunk.”
“Oh.” Oddly enough, he didn’t have drinking experience. With his father’s beer cans littering the house like carpet, he’d certainly had ample opportunity. But the odor always hung in his nose like something dying or dead. “I, uh, don’t know if…”
Lottie had another dismissive wave. “This is the way to her. She’s pretty and bound to be popular. You know Hassan will be. You have to make friends. As many as possible. It’s easier when you’re wasted.” Then, gentler, she said, “Have you ever had friends, Wyatt?”
The question shot through him, lodging like yet another bull
et. “Friends?” he managed weakly. There was Edy, but he couldn’t say her. “I’ve had…you.”
Lottie’s lashes fluttered and she dropped to the edge of the couch. “That’s it, isn’t it? Me and her…we’re the only people you’ve ever had.”
Her sympathy curled his insides into nausea. “So?” he said roughly. “I’ve never been popular. Big deal.”
Lottie sighed audibly. “So, I’m rethinking my involvement in this.”
Wyatt whirled on her. “You can’t. You promised you’d help me get her back. You owe me.” A flash of dangerous energy coursed through him and he flexed his hands, chest heaving.
“I want a new deal. A new deal in light of all this new evidence.” Lottie grinned proudly. “You see that? I sound like a lawyer. Anyway, I want to help you make friends. I’ll help you make a thousand new friends and be the most popular guy in any room. You should have your pick of girls, not just Edy. If, after all that, you still want her then…”
Wyatt hesitated. The fury in him hesitated. “Any girl?”
Lottie laughed. “Yes!”
“Is there a downside I’m not seeing?”
“You’re waiting to go after Edy,” Lottie said.
Wyatt bit his lip. That was true. But he’d been thinking, maybe he’d approached the Edy situation all wrong. Could it be that she’d want a guy that people liked or… a more sexually experienced one? One that others found attractive too?
“It’s worth a try,” Wyatt said. Anything was, really. “What’s our first move?”
Lottie frowned. “You throw a party, of course.”
“But,” Wyatt hesitated, because the next point seemed obvious, “we don’t know anyone.”
Wrecked (Love Edy Book Three) Page 5