“What the fuck?”
“Care to join me?” she purrs, devouring me with her eyes. I clutch my towel a little more tightly.
“You need to get out. How many times do I have to fucking say it for you get the point?”
“Oh, come on, you know you want to. For old time’s sake.” She lowers the sheet enough to reveal her naked breasts.
“You need to get the fuck out of my room right now,” I say, keeping my eyes on her face.
She sits up, letting the sheet fall away even more. “Or what?”
“Or I’ll make sure you’re never welcomed in this house again. Or maybe, maybe I’ll tell the administration about how you’ve been getting an A in biology by fucking the professor.”
“You wouldn’t,” she answers with the deer-caught-in-headlights look.
“You know very well I would. I’ll make sure everyone knows exactly who you are and where we stand. Let’s see if you’ll be head of a sorority then. You’d be lucky if you don’t get kicked out of the school.”
“Are you threatening to gossip?”
“I’m threatening to tell the fucking truth. Fuck, Abby, I need you to get out of here.” When she doesn’t move, I raise my voice, adding, “Now!” Her eyes widen and she sniffs before throwing back the sheets from her naked body. I snatch her clothes from the floor and toss them at her.
“You’ll regret this,” she says while throwing on her dress.
“I’ve regretted many things—meeting you, being with you. But this? This is something I know I’ll never regret.”
“I hate you.”
“Good. Hold on to that hate and stay the hell away from me.”
She leaves, and I blow out a breath. I know Mia is coming here tonight, and the last thing I need is to remind her of my mistakes, of my history. I start getting dressed, making sure I don’t let Abby ruin my mood. The thought of seeing Mia erases the bitterness.
I pull on a shirt then check my phone for any messages from Mia. When I see I don’t have any, I make my way downstairs.
Down in the living room, I see the party is in full swing. I still don’t know how the hell we fit so many people into this house, but every party seems more packed than the last. I bump fists with Zack then nod at Blake, who are both talking to a few other players.
“Hey, Hunter,” Chase calls.
I walk over to where he’s standing. “Hey, Boulder. Where’s your girl?”
“She’s not coming. Said she’s not in the mood to party,” he shrugs. “How’s your girl?”
My girl, yes. Because although we might not be official, I know she is. I can tell by the way she whimpers every time we kiss.
“She’s good,” I know there’s a stupid smirk pasted on my face.
“Good. She looked like she was in bad form when she came in.”
My blood runs cold. “What do you mean bad form? When did she come in?” My head starts spinning. I don’t know what he means by ‘bad form’, but the need to know she’s okay immediately seizes my body.
“Yeah, she walked in maybe twenty minutes ago, crying. She ran upstairs. I followed her to make sure she was okay, but then I saw her go into your room.”
“And then?” I ask, knowing she must have seen Abbigail there. Fuck, fuck, fuck!
“I came back down to the party.”
“Did you see her come down?”
“No. I thought she was still upsta—”
Before he can finish his sentence, I turn to the rest of the guys. “Did any of you see Mia?”
“Nope,” Zack says.
“Nope,” Blake adds.
“Is she the hot little thing you’ve been spending all your free time with?” says a tight end named Connor. I want to punch him in the face, but think better of it. I have priorities, and he isn’t one of them right now.
“Yes, did you see her?” I force the words out of my mouth, enunciating every single one carefully.
“Yeah, she came downstairs. Ran out of the house, actually. She was definitely cryi—”
I don’t wait for him to finish. I run out of the door as fast as I can.
I hear the distinct sound of Mia’s voice, yelling at someone to stop. I run to where I think she may be, and find her trapped between both of Brandon’s arms against the side of the house. She looks like she’s staring down the barrel of a gun, waiting for the end to come. She’s accepting defeat. Her eyes go from him to me, pleading for me to intervene. To do something.
So, I do.
Before I can register anything else, I have Brandon pinned to the brick, using my weight to hold him aloft while my hand wraps around his throat. He’s afraid of me. I can tell by the way his eyes beg for mercy. He knows how vicious I can be on the field. Imagine what I could do to him with the right motivation.
His feet hang in the air while I push my shoulder onto his chest. He isn’t light, but practice has made me into a beast and I know how to use my weight to my advantage.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” I ask in a lethal voice.
“Nothing… I—She… We were just talking,” he says, his voice shaking with every word.
“And does she look like she wants to talk to you?” I say emphasizing the word ‘talk’ as I tighten my hold on his neck. He must think I’m an idiot. Talking was not what he wanted to do with Mia. I feel my heart rate increase, beating so hard it could jump out of my body. My anger rises rapidly, and I know I’m on the verge of losing control.
“Ah, she, I mean, I wanted to make sure she was okay,” he responds.
“This is how you make sure someone is okay?” I retort. Every lie he tells makes me want to punch him in the jaw. I exercise as much control as I can. With every question I ask, I think of what could have happened if I hadn’t been here. What could have happened to her had I not been looking for her. Each ‘what if’ adds wood to the already burning fire within me.
“Why does it matter? Back the fuck off, Hunter,” he says, attempting to sound tough, but his shaking shows otherwise.
“It matters because she’s a person, you imbecile, and because she’s mine,” I growl like a fucking caveman, but it’s true. She is mine. She has been since the day she ran into me in class. She would have been mine earlier had I not been too distracted to notice her. She’s mine and I’m hers.
Brandon seems to sober up, his eyes widening as he finally grasps how serious I am.
“Hunter, I didn’t know she was your girl,” he says, trying to downplay the whole situation.
“It shouldn’t matter whether she’s my girl or not. She said no—that’s enough,” I say. “I don’t ever want to see or hear about you trying to take advantage of a girl again. If I do, you will regret it. Now fuck off. And when it comes to her,” I say, pointing to Mia, “Do not look at her, do not touch her, do not think about her, do not approach her. If you see her walk in one direction, you walk the opposite way.
You’re lucky I don’t kick your ass right now. If I ever see you do this shit again, you won’t be so lucky.”
I shove him once more against the wall before releasing him. As soon as I do, he runs towards the front of the house.
I’m trying to calm myself down by taking deep breaths, but this is halted when I hear a sob. I turn around to find Mia sitting on the grass. Her knees are drawn toward her chest, her hands covering her mouth to mute her crying. But it’s unsuccessful. Tears are running down her beautiful face. She looks so fragile, like someone who is breaking but is desperately trying to keep the pieces together—to keep herself together. I know exactly how she’s feeling. I’m always trying to hold shit together, to pick up the pieces, but it never works. Things always manage to break.
I approach her slowly, afraid I might scare her. If she did see Abbigail upstairs, she may be thinking the worst of me right now. Part of me knows this, while the other part of me, the one I have to fight to restrain, wants to run. Wants to run to her. Wants to pick her up from the floor, and hold her in my arms while I p
rovide her with the comfort she needs. The comfort I need too.
I kneel in front of her, and she senses my presence immediately. I wait for her to look up, and when she does, she is consumed by anger. Seeing this, I move to sit next to her instead; I know this will be a serious conversation.
I mirror her posture, embracing my knees as I pull them towards my chest. To anyone else, I probably look awkward as hell, and uncomfortable too. It would be an accurate description, but it’s where I need to be.
She looks away from me, not saying a word.
Still, I’m not going to leave her alone—not unless she asks me to, and even then, I’m not sure how far I’d go. I am willing to be her shoulder to cry on, or her punching bag to lash out at. I’m willing to be whatever she needs me to be.
When she stops crying, she tries to compose herself. I look in her direction to see her shake her head. I lift my eyebrows questioningly. After a few awkward minutes, she finally makes eye contact and the disappointment I see in her eyes breaks me.
MIA
“Hey, are you okay?” he asks.
“I’m fine. I’m not a damsel in distress. I don’t need you saving me,” I bite back. Screw him and his kindness. It’s all an act.
“That’s not what it looked like when I got here,” he says, visibly irritated.
Well, fuck him.
“I was handling it.” And I was about to handle him, too.
“Really, how? By crying?”
“I had it under control. I was just about to do something about it.” And I was. I was just caught off guard. I saw the guy approach, and I immediately got up, but before I could move away, he caged me in. For a second, I contemplated doing nothing, just letting it happen. Why resist when people hurt you anyway? It appears that regardless of how much I try to not let people continue to destroy me, they do. So, this time it was going to be my choice.
Before I caved into that feeling, the rational part of my brain knew that this wasn’t me. I was just about to stop him, but then Colton came up behind him.
“That certainly looked like it was under control,” he states. Funny that he seems to care so much about what happens to me.
“Just like you had Abby under control upstairs?” I respond, daring him to contradict me.
“That wasn’t what—”
“That wasn’t what I thought? Is that what you were going to say?”
“Mia.”
“Are you going to tell me I didn’t see Abbigail upstairs, in your bed, naked?”
“Yes, but—”
“Yeah, but nothing. I saw what I saw, Colton.”
“Yes, but you don’t understand—”
“I do understand. I am nothing to you. I knew it from the beginning. I knew you weren’t boyfriend material. I knew you would play with my heart like you play with every other girl’s, like it’s a game. But honestly, this isn’t your fault. It’s mine. But you know what? I don’t care anymore.”
“Those tears tell me otherwise. Clearly, I mean something to you.”
“You meant something to me, but that was my mistake.”
“No, it wasn’t, Mia.”
I stand up, turn around and start walking away when I feel a cold hand grab my arm.
“What do you want?” I demand.
“You.”
“How poetic. You want her, too. And every other girl.”
“No, Mia. If it hasn’t been clear to you from the last few months we’ve spent together, I want you. I only want you.”
“Somehow I don’t believe you.” Sarcasm drips from my words. This isn’t a telenovela. This isn’t a happily ever after romance story where those words would sweep me off my feet.
“Mia—”
I pull my arm away and walk in the direction of my apartment.
“You can’t walk away from this,” he says desperately.
I whirl around to face him. “Like you’ve faced all your demons? Please. Cut the bull.”
“Just wait. You can’t leave.”
“Watch me.”
He appears at my side, matching my every stride. “No. You can’t walk away from an argument, from a fight. You have to stay and fix it.”
“Not all things can be fixed, and not all things are meant to be fixed. You should know,” That’s the last thing I say before walking away, once again leaving it all behind.
* * *
I walk through the door just as Kiya is about to walk out to head to the party. Colton’s party. The party we were both supposed to go to, but one look at my face makes her cancel her plans.
“What’s wrong?” Kiya asks, but I don’t really know how to answer.
I go with the easier version. “A lot.”
“Come here,” Kiya pulls me into a bear hug. I know it’s supposed to make me feel better, but all it does is open the dam, and the tears start to fall again. She lets go of me, drops her purse, shakes off her heels and grabs my arm, pulling me towards the kitchen.
“Let’s talk about it over spiked Oreo shakes,” she says. Because my roommate knows that nothing else will get me to talk.
I sit at the kitchen table, waiting for Kiya to finish her magic drink. Finally, she places a glass in my hand while guiding me to the living room. When she sits on the couch, I follow. She turns on the TV, and I am thankful for every minute she gives me to pull myself together. At this moment, I am thankful I still have her in my life.
“You ready?”
“As I’ll ever be.”
“So, what happened?”
“My dad stopped by the house today. My dad, who after my mom was killed on her way to pick up his drunk ass from a bar, didn’t go to her funeral. Who, after leaving me, decided to finally show up,” I yell. I feel myself getting angrier by the second, each statement bringing back a new memory.
“Oh, my God. No wonder you’ve never mentioned him. I’m so sorry, Mia. What did he want?”
“He wanted to explain, a second chance. A do-over!” I state.
“And?”
“I’m not really about giving second chances to people who don’t deserve them. I mean, why open myself to getting hurt twice by the same person? It doesn’t make any sense.” I know that as I say this to my roommate, I’m really talking to myself too.
No second chances for people who don’t deserve them.
“So, what did you do?”
“When I opened the door and saw his face, I didn’t know what to do. I was angry, but…for a brief second, I was also glad to see him–the fact he was alive and looked like a decent human being. My father took my silence as permission to speak and asked for forgiveness. He said he’d gone to rehab, that he’s been sober since the day Mom died.”
“That’s good.”
“And, he also said there’s someone else in his life.”
“Oh, shit. Really?”
“Yeah, and that broke me. Mom hasn’t been dead for long, and while he couldn’t be there for me, he has been there for his other daughter. The one he wants me to meet.”
“Oh, M, I know that probably hurt. But you might want to try to forgive him. He is your dad, after all.”
“He sure as hell forgot to act like it when I needed him the most. No need to start now.”
“You might want to give him a chance though? That way you won’t regret it.”
“Anyway,” I say moving the conversation along. “I didn’t know what else to do, so I ran away from my own house.”
“No wonder you looked like a wet raccoon when you came in the house.” My roommate tries to lighten the mood with a joke. I don’t think she’s joking though.
“I ran over to Colton’s house.”
“Of course you did. You guys are inseparable. I don’t know where you end and he begins anymore. And I really don’t know how you stop yourself from sleeping with him. If you weren’t my friend, I would have my hands all over that.”
Bracing myself, I push through. “I’m sure I’ll have no problem with that,” I answer. My words are bi
ting.
“Is everything okay?”
“I think you already know it’s not.”
“Did something happen with Colton, too?”
“I ran to his house, and because I’m an idiot, I just let myself in his room and found Abbigail in his bed. Naked.”
Kiya’s mouth hangs open. “No shit. What the… You’re kidding, right?” I wish I was.
“I guess knowing he wouldn’t be able to get any from me made him get it from somewhere else.”
“Fuck, Mia. I’m shocked, truly.” She takes my free hand and squeezes it. “I’m so sorry. I never saw him as the type to do the whole celibate thing. I mean for the last few years, he’s had his pick of women and rarely turned them down, if the rumors were any indication, but he seems different with you—not just when he’s around you, but overall. Blake tells me about it all the time. Shoot, watching the two of you was making me believe in fairytales. True love and shit.”
“Well, don’t believe in it. Clearly, it’s not real.”
“What did he say?” she asks, then adds, “Sorry, if you don’t want to talk about it, you don’t have to.”
“No, it’s fine. I need to get it off my chest. He was in the shower when I came in, so I left. He found me outside, said he could ‘explain’.” I put the word “explain” in quotation marks because how the hell could you explain sleeping with someone else?
‘I’m sorry, my dick made me do it.’
Yeah, right.
“Are you sure? I mean, you didn’t actually catch him sleeping with her. And Abbigail is a bitch.”
“His clothes were on the floor. I mean, I can be naïve, but the evidence was there. Trust me, I wish it wasn’t true, but it is.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything. It’s okay.”
“It’s not okay.”
I shrug. “It will be,” I say to her, and myself. I’ve been through worse and managed to come out on the other end. This will be no different.
“I love you,” my roommate says, hugging me again.
“I love you, too.” And I do. Kiya is like the sister I never had.
Better With You: A Bragan University Novel Page 17