Spring Semester

by Tyler, Q. B.

  Copyright © 2019 by Q.B. Tyler

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination and used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Cover Design: NET Hook & Line Designs

  Editing: Kristen Portillo—Your Editing Lounge

  Interior Formatting: Stacey Blake—Champagne Book Design

  Proofreading: Leslie Middleton

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Epigraph

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Epilogue

  Preview of First Semester

  Author’s Note

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  Also by Q.B. Tyler

  “…Two souls are sometimes created together and in love before they’re born.”

  —F. Scott Fitzgerald

  “We really shouldn’t keep doing this, Leigh.”

  I watch as he pulls his jeans up over his pelvis, successfully blocking me from the glorious dick that was just inside me no more than four minutes ago. I stretch my naked body that’s still sprawled out on my bed and rake my eyes over my best friend.

  “But it’s fun.” I giggle and he glares at me. “Oh, come on, Everett, lighten up.” I crawl across the bed to where he’s sitting and rest my head on his muscular shoulder. “Why are you so tense lately? This about your chemistry class?”

  “No.” He grunts and stands up. “We are dating other people, Leighton. It’s not fair to either one of them.”

  I fall back on the blankets and roll my eyes. “Hardly. You don’t love her, and I’m literally only dating Adam because he does my statistics homework.”

  “That’s not the point, Leigh.” He runs a hand through his blonde hair, the curls wild and tousled in direct response from me pulling it while his mouth was between my thighs.

  I hop off the bed and follow his hand through his hair, pushing it to the side like I love it and know he secretly does too. “Then what is the point? She won’t even put out.” I blink my ash colored eyes at him several times to drive my point home. I put out. I’ve been putting out. For what feels like one hundred years.

  Okay four, but whatever.

  Everett and I have been best friends since we were in fourth grade and he beat up a fifth grader for pulling my pigtails. He proceeded to walk me home every day for the rest of the year so no one would mess with me, and from then on, we were inseparable. And then six years later, our genitals became inseparable.

  We’re now in our junior year of college at Camden Graf in Washington D.C. after we both flew the coop of our small town in Arizona. My parents told me that I could only go this far if Everett came too, so we spent our entire senior year in high school studying—and not just each other’s anatomy—and both of us received early acceptance.

  But now at almost twenty, Everett and I are still doing the same shit, different day, and evidently, he’s developed a guilty conscience.

  Never mind that he got that blonde nightmare of a girlfriend first. What was I supposed to do? Sit around and watch them make out? I needed something…well, someone to pass the time until he got bored of her. Just like in high school when he dated Arianna Drake. The most popular girl in school, head cheerleader, Prom Queen—it was all so cliché I could scream.

  But, to my surprise, Everett came to me after every date he had with her so I could erase her scent. This went on for all of three months before they broke up. He didn’t date anyone our freshman or sophomore years of college, as we were basically glued at the hip, literally, with this newfound freedom of no curfew and being able to sleep in the same bed or be in each other’s room with the door closed. Everett’s roommate had an older girlfriend who lived off campus, so he was rarely there, which meant I basically became Everett’s honorary roommate. And now, junior year, we both live off campus with our own bedrooms.

  His blue eyes dart to mine, and I know by the size of his pupils that he’s getting irritated with me. “I’m sorry I even fucking told you that,” he growls and I purse my lips at his hostile comment. Lips that I know are swollen and red from his constant biting.

  Everett Cartwright is the golden boy. The all-American lacrosse star, Prom King and social butterfly—can we call guys butterflies? Whatever, he’s perfect. He does charity work… somewhere…and always tries to do the right thing. Everett, who is not only cheating on his equally perfect girlfriend, but doing so with his not so perfect best friend who he likes to bite and choke and fuck within an inch of her life.

  “Because you tell me everything.” I grab his ass as I walk across my room to pull on one of his lacrosse t-shirts.

  “Is that mine?” He pulls his sweatshirt on over his torso giving me a tiny glimpse of his delicious V cut when his t-shirt rides up.

  I look down and then up at him. “Yeah?”

  “Why do you have it?”

  “I don’t know. I liked it.” I shrug.

  “Don’t wear that around Alli.” He grunts and I roll my eyes. “She already thinks we’re fucking.”

  “Well, we are.”

  “Were.”

  “Sure, Cartwright.” I pull my long, dark brown hair into a high ponytail. Hair that is now a complete rat’s nest due to Everett’s incessant pulling. Hair that Everett has told me on numerous occasions how much he loves. I’d caught him on many occasions submerging his face in my locks and breathing in my scent like it was his oxygen mask. I’d thought about cutting it, but Everett had gotten on his knees and begged—both with his words and an orgasm—to keep it long. So, now my hair is a few inches shy of my waist.

  “I’m serious, we shouldn’t keep doing this. It’s not fair to Alli or… Adam.” He spits out his name like it tastes horrible.

  “Why do you say his name like that?” I tuck a stray hair behind my ear as I power up my laptop to start my philosophy paper.

  I meet his gaze just as anger flashes across them. “He’s all wrong for you, Leigh.”

  “I know that. Did you hear the part about my statistics homework? It’s not like I have you to cheat off of anymore. You had to go and take stats last year,” I whine.

  “I told you to take it with me. But we’re getting off topic.”

  “What’s the topic?”

  “Are you sleeping with him?” he blurts out and the words hang in the air between us.

  Do I tell him the truth? Or lie and keep him on his toes. Think quick, Mills. “What?”

  “You heard me, Leighton Alexandra Mills. Are you sleeping with that tool?”

  “Ooooh full name, are you going to spank me now?” I flutter my eyelashes at him.

  “Answer me,” he grits out.

  “Would it matter if I was?”

  If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he looks hurt. Or maybe he’s jealous. I know b
ecause I know what jealousy looks like. It spikes in my heart every time he goes skipping off to hang out with Alli after he’s been with me. It’s the look in Alli’s eyes every time she looks at me when she realizes that he’d just spent the whole afternoon with me. Alli and I hate each other for the very same and yet different reasons. It’s something I’ve pushed deep down in my soul and never let myself dwell on.

  She doesn’t love Everett, and I do.

  He’ll never want you like that. I hear her words as clear as day resonating throughout me.

  “This is done, Leighton. We’re done.”

  I stop for a second after slamming Leighton’s front door behind me. I’m half expecting her to run after me and tell me that she hasn’t slept with Adam. That she’s never let anyone touch her besides me. That she belongs to me. But then I remember my stubborn, sassy, sexier than sin best friend doesn’t run after anyone. It’s why men go crazy for her.

  It’s why I’m crazy for her.

  I jog down her steps towards my Jeep before casting one last glance towards her front door. I’d barely thrown up a hand towards her roommate who was sitting on their couch with quite literally a cup of tea, ready to hear the latest in the Leighton and Everett saga. Skyler Mitchell is more perceptive than most and caught on to our dirty little secret within seconds of meeting us, which led to me bribing her with a years’ worth of Starbucks to keep her thoughts to herself. She’s the president of the “Leighton and Everett love each other” committee and made a point to call us out on it every time I try to sneak out of Leighton’s bedroom.

  Or when we have our sleepovers.

  But she spent the first semester here banging her professor, so she isn’t really in any place to judge anyone for inappropriate relationships.

  You’re not in a relationship with Leigh, douchebag, my mind screams at me, and my dick immediately protests. Why the fuck aren’t we?

  My phone beeps breaking me from my thoughts and my heart sinks when I realize it’s Alli, who also serves as a reminder as to why I’m not in a relationship with Leigh.

  Alli Chem Lab: hiiii! what are you doing? *kissy face*

  I toss my phone to the side, fully planning to ignore her for now, when my phone begins to ring. Feelings of dread flood me instantly as I press the Bluetooth in my car. “Hey, Alli.”

  “Babe, can you come with me to this mixer tonight?”

  I let out a quiet groan as her voice comes through the speaker. “Tonight? I kind of have to study.”

  “It’s Friday night, come on…” she whines. “By the way, where are you? I texted you a few times.”

  Translation: Are you with Leighton again?

  “In the car.”

  “Oh…” I hear the question in just that one word. “Well, where were you?”

  I let out a sigh. “Library.” The lie comes out before I can catch it, and I wince at the fact that I’m being dishonest with her. But I’m tired of the same old why do you hang out with Leighton so much? You see her more than you see me. It’s starting to grate on my nerves.

  Then break up with her!

  I know I did this to myself. I asked Alli out to trigger Leighton’s jealousy but all it did was make her get a boyfriend of her own.

  Fucking tool. I hate that guy. I grip the steering wheel thinking about him fucking her. About him kissing her. Touching her. Just…being near her.

  All of it makes me irate.

  She wouldn’t sleep with him.

  Tell me you’re not sleeping with him, Leigh.

  “Everett?” Her voice washes over me and I rub my forehead as I come to a stoplight.

  “Yeah. I mean yes, I’ll meet you wherever.”

  “A bunch of us are pregaming at my place. Come over early?”

  “Yeah…okay. Sure.” I pull into my parking spot outside of the townhouse I share with two other guys from the lacrosse team.

  “Okay…and babe?”

  “Uh huh?”

  “Don’t bring Leighton.”

  I walk through the door of my house to the sounds of cheering, and I turn the corner to see my roommates Pat and Dave playing Xbox.

  “Hey, douchebags.” I drop to the couch adjacent to them and prop my foot on the coffee table. A bong sits on top of it, taunting me, and if I was sure I wouldn’t have a drug test this month, I’d indulge. I reach for the bag of Doritos next to it instead.

  “How’s the wife?” Pat asks without turning around.

  “How’s the cute Italian?” Dave asks and I groan thinking about Dave’s obsession with Skyler.

  “Skyler is still taken. And…Leighton is not my wife.”

  “Much to your disappointment,” Pat interjects. “Which I don’t know why you’re so upset. You’re sleeping with two chicks and the hotter one doesn’t even care.” He waves his arm as I watch Dave’s team tackle Pat’s. “OH, WHAT THE FUCK!”

  I grit my teeth, trying not to let it bother me that he called Leighton hot. “I’m not sleeping with Alli.”

  They both drop their controllers and turn around. “Pause the shit,” Pat says to Dave. “What?” Pat grabs the bong, lights it and takes a long pull. “You’re not fucking Malibu Barbie?”

  I roll my eyes and stand up. “I’m out of here.”

  “No, wait wait wait, don’t listen to this asshole,” Dave says. He looks up at me and then at Pat. “But…why?”

  I shrug, as I think about why I’ve kept Alli at arm’s length.

  You know why.

  “Can you just man up and tell Leighton you love her, you pussy?” Pat turns back around. “Unpause, I’ve had about enough of him.” They turn back to the television and I put both middle fingers up for each of them.

  I climb the stairs toward my bedroom and flop on my bed before pulling out my phone.

  Maybe I should call Leighton.

  No fucking way, you always give in first.

  “Fuck it,” I grit out as I press her contact. She answers on the first ring and I can’t stop the smile pulling at my lips that maybe she was waiting for me to call.

  “Everett.”

  “Leighton.”

  The line is silent, and I swear I can hear her nerves through the phone.

  “What did you mean when you said we were done? You mean you’re done…with me?”

  I hear the sadness in her voice and my traitorous dick immediately hardens as I picture her bottom lip jutting out as she twists a hair around her finger. “No. I shouldn’t have said that. Of course, I’m not done with you. We’ll always be friends, Leigh.” I hear her sniffle and I sit up on my bed to listen closer. “Leigh, are you…crying?”

  “No, you jerk, allergies.”

  I smirk. “You don’t have allergies.”

  “Well…whatever. You were being an ass!”

  The smirk falls and my eyebrows furrow in annoyance. “You wouldn’t tell me if you were fucking some other guy!”

  “Why does it matter?!”

  “Because it fucking does, Leighton,” I growl.

  “No, okay! No, I’m not sleeping with Adam. But I guess I should since you’re not going to fuck me anymore.”

  Backpedal, Cartwright. Backpedal! “I didn’t…”

  “You said we shouldn’t do this anymore. So, what, you were just saying that to get a rise out of me?”

  Yes, kind of. “Well, no—” I lie.

  “So, you meant it?”

  I rub a hand over my eyes. This isn’t going to end well. “You’re being a bitch, Leigh.”

  “And you’re being a dick!” she argues back.

  Nothing good is going to come from this. Get the fuck off the phone. “I have to go. I’ll talk to you later.”

  “Fine.” Click.

  I let myself stew over my conversation with Leighton for an hour before getting up to shower hoping that it would help alleviate the tension of arguing with my best friend. I let my head fall back to allow the hot water of my shower to rain down on my face and my torso. My shoulders feel like they’re in knots an
d my back feels tense and stiff. I hate fighting with Leighton; it makes me feel like I’ve physically gone to war.

  My shower curtain slides across the metal, and my eyes immediately fly open in wonder of who the fuck is in the bathroom when Leighton steps into the tub with me.

  My eyes widen even further when it registers that she’s really here. Looking like sex on a fucking stick. “What are you doing?” I ask, though the ability to speak is slowly shutting down as I take in her perfect body. She is lean from soccer, and while it’s her off season, she still trains three times a week with the team. My eyes scan over her face. Wide eyes that are usually lined with eyeliner and eyelashes that are always perfectly curled are now void of anything. A dusting of freckles covers her nose like she’d been sprinkled with cinnamon, and I watch as she scrunches it in that cute way she does when she’s trying to get her way with me. I follow the trail to her cheekbones and her pout that is currently pursed, waiting for me to kiss her.

  Her features are so striking, it takes me a minute to catch my breath around her. Her mother is from the Philippines and her father is from Scotland, giving her an exotic look that makes heads turn everywhere she goes. Her skin is naturally sun-kissed due to her Filipino roots which gives her a bronze glow at all times and it makes me want to run my nose all over her skin to smell the sun on her. I run my gaze down her body, wanting to touch her. Claim her. Defile her.

  “I came to apologize,” she whispers, “but from the way you’re looking at me, it seems like I’m forgiven.” I look up at her as her teeth graze her bottom lip. “I hate when you’re mad at me.”

  “I hate it too.” I move forward and lean down, pressing my lips to her collarbone and rain kisses across her chest to the other side. My hands grip her hips and I pull her flush against my chest, her hard nipples brushing against my abdomen and making my dick even harder.

  “Kiss and make up?” she whispers and when I pull back, I see the devilish look in her eye. Fuck and make up is more like it.

  “Fuck yes,” I growl at her as I capture her mouth. I rub my tongue against hers, feeding her my apology the only way I can with Leighton. What we have is sacred, and I don’t think it’s a connection that will ever go away. I’ve never felt about anyone the way I feel about her. She’s my best friend and at times I feel like the other half of me. She understands me on a level that no one else gets, and I hate the thought that one day someone could know her better than I do.