She put Jack to bed and I waited for her in the living room of her townhouse, checking the place out. It had a good mix of neutral items and Carrington's style. Mr. Griffin did this for her.
It hit me how she had been communicating with him and things were good with them. I couldn't help but feel jealous. Mr. Griffin hurt her so bad, but he knew more about her than I did. It pissed me off and when she returned, I was still pissed.
"What the fuck is going on here, Carrington?"
"Shh." She sat down on the couch and I followed her.
"When did you decide to come back?"
"In May."
After we slept together. She didn't say it, but I added it myself. She had decided, but she didn't tell me.
I felt the tension build behind my eyes, and I rubbed my forehead to ward off a killer headache.
"You knew all summer and didn't tell me."
"I didn't want to confuse you. I wanted to surprise you."
"Well, you surprised me."
"Are you mad at me?"
"No, I'm not mad. I'm ... I wish you had told me. Back then."
"Well, you didn't tell me about your new girlfriend, so I guess we're even."
"How do you know about Tiffany?"
"I saw you kiss her in the Student Union."
"Oh." I sat down and covered my face with my hands.
"Why didn't you tell me about her?" she asked.
"I don't know. I guess I felt guilty."
"Guilty about what? Jackson, we didn't make any promises to each other. I can't be mad at you for finding someone."
"No. Guilty for moving on with my life." I stood back up and paced the floor. "And now you're here, and I don't know what this means."
"I didn't come back here to be with you."
"What?" I cocked my head and raised my eyebrows.
"No, Jackson really, I wanted to come back and continue my life. I chose to come to FSU for a reason. And then everything happened, and I feel like my life has been on hold for a year, and I want my life back. I want the college experience I was cheated out of because of Josh. I don't want to hide out at home anymore."
I nodded my head.
I didn’t think she was lying. It might not be the only reason, but it was a big part of it. My shoulders relaxed, and I stared down at her. I admired her bravery. It couldn't be easy coming back here after what happened, but she was ready to start living, and I was so proud of her.
"Carrington." I walked over, sat back down, and hugged her. I pulled her into my arms. I didn't know what else to say. She melted into me, and I held her close with one hand on her back and the other running my hand through her hair. It struck me how intimate the gesture was, but I didn't care at the moment.
"And I figured if, by chance, we got another shot that would be a bonus."
I held her at arm’s length to see if she was kidding. A smile spread across her face and she let out a hysterical laugh that shook her whole body. I watched her with a raised eyebrow. She sounded a little crazy. "Oh my God. I can't believe you have a girlfriend."
"Carrington." I stood up.
"Would you stop saying my name?" she asked. "And sit down, you're freaking me out."
I sat back down next to her and held her hand. I always loved her fingers. They were long and thin and her nails were always painted a cool color. I rubbed my fingertips over the polish. Today they were pink, which complemented her light brown skin tone. I wanted to kiss each finger, but I didn't. I settled for holding her hand.
"Don't you see how insane this is?"
My eyes found hers, and they had calmed from their maniacal look from a moment before. I nodded.
"We meet and hit it off and for whatever reason, you don't ask me out, but your best friend does. Then he kills himself. A year later, we sleep together, and it was freakin’ amazing, and I worked up in my head that was it. It's Jackson and Carrington. We are going to be together, and I am so ready to be with you that I wait four months to tell you, and in the meantime, you meet someone else. That is fucking crazy. I mean, what is wrong with us?"
"I don't know." I dropped her hand and sat back on the couch. We sat side by side, neither of us touching, but the heat from her body made my entire left side sweat. I pushed it out of my brain. If I was one to believe in signs—well, Carrington spelled out twenty reasons why the world didn't want us together.
The irony of the situation was that if she had told me at the beginning of the summer, before she drove off—if she had said what she felt—Tiffany and I would have been history the moment I stepped off the plane.
I caught that she figured Tiffany and I met over the summer. I didn't feel the need to clarify.
There was no point.
"So, tell me about her." Carrington broke the silence with an unexpected question.
"Her name’s Tiffany Chandler. She's from Tennessee. She transferred here from the University of Tennessee."
"What's her major, basketball?"
"Oh, that's funny."
"I meant she's tall—"
"Yes, she's tall."
"And blond."
"Yes, her hair is blond."
"You guys look perfect together." Carrington voice cracked on the word perfect, and I knew what she was saying. I wanted to reassure her but didn't know how to without insulting her or digging myself into a bigger hole.
I turned to face her.
"I am glad you're here. Now that the initial shock has worn off," I said.
"Really?"
"And even though I'm with Tiffany, you're still my best friend."
She smiled at me and my heart hurt. I grabbed her hand and squeezed it to steady my heart from beating out of my chest. I turned to face forward.
The girl's smile floored me, and I needed to avoid it because she saw right through me.
I felt her move and reach for my arm. She placed it over her shoulder and laid her head on my chest. I knew she could feel my heart race, but she laced her fingers with mine, and we remained that way, lost in our own thoughts.
After some time had passed, she squeezed my hand and said, "You're my best friend, too."
I let go of my breath, not realizing I had been holding it. We sat on her new couch in her new place in Tallahassee—both coming to the same conclusions, the same universal truth. We needed each other in some form or fashion, and we would take each other any way we could.
#
Carrington Olivia Butler
"You want something to drink?" I asked. Sitting here on the couch with my head on his chest felt all too familiar and way too nice, but things were different now.
"Yeah. Whatever you got."
I walked into the kitchen and felt his eyes on me, watching me from behind. I wanted to turn around and catch him, smile, and flirt to give him a show. I could giggle and lick my lips and toss my hair and lean much too close to him. Place a hand on his thigh and tell him how much I wanted him. I could seduce him and make Blondie a distant memory, but I didn't. I didn't want to make him cheat.
It wasn't fair to him or to her. I didn't owe her anything. I kind of hated her, but I couldn't blame her. Jackson was gorgeous and sweet and amazing in bed. He was any girl’s dream. I couldn't blame her for going after my man, the bitch.
Stop it, Carrington.
I handed Jackson a bottle of water and sat on the other end of the couch.
"How's it feel, being back here?" he asked.
"Not as weird as I thought it would be. I thought it would be hard or I'd have some weird flashback or something."
"You've been near the house."
"I drove by it. It looks the same."
"I know. I don't spend much time there except for official meetings."
"I thought you would be the president of the fraternity by now. Randolph graduated last year, right?"
"No time."
"How's the team look?" I smiled and waited for him to answer.
"You really want to know."
"Of course. I c
an't wait for the season to start, but I hate we’re going to miss the opening game in Dallas."
"You can fly in. You've got money, now."
"Not for that. I try and spend as little of Jack's money as I have to."
"Why?"
"Because it's his. I use it for his expenses. You should have seen me when I went to buy a car. I had this long list to justify why I needed it for him."
"Mr. Griffin made you do that?"
"Oh, no. Hell no. I created a list to convince myself."
"You're weird." He narrowed his eyes and took another sip of his water. He checked his phone and turned back to me.
"You have someplace to be?" I asked.
"I have practice soon, but no. I have time."
"Is this how it's going to be?" I asked.
"What?"
"Super awkward."
He smiled and scooted next to me.
"Honest?"
"Always?"
"Yeah." He flashed a grin that made my stomach flip. "For a bit anyway."
He reached out and touched my knee; I tried hard to not flinch, but goose bumps popped up on my arms and legs.
I adjusted in my seat until my leg was no longer within touching distance. I needed him to stop touching me. He might be in love with someone else, but I came here all in. And since I couldn't have him, it would take me a minute to get normal around him.
He moved back a safe distance, always a gentleman. He downed the last of his bottle of water.
"Can I ask you a question?" he asked.
Oh, this can't be good.
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I had it all worked out in my head how great this was going to be and now ..."
"I'm happy you're here. That's not what I was going to ask about."
"Oh."
"But since you brought it up. How did you want this to go? What did you want to happen?"
I stared in my lap and willed the tears to stay put.
I could profess my love to him and tell him to dump the blond chick and be with me, but that seemed kind of mean and selfish. I had no idea how he felt about Tiffany. I didn't want to know, but I cared.
"Honest?"
"Always."
"I loved FSU and part of the reason I love it so much is because of you."
He cocked his head and waited.
"I looked forward to hearing about what was happening on campus. I watched the games last year and remembered how much fun it was to be a part of this school and this campus. I missed out on so much because, well, you know. Not many people get a second chance and although I can't go completely crazy and be uber college student—that's not a good look for someone with a kid—I can do some of it."
The answer was honest enough. I sold it pretty well.
Jackson bit his upper lip and smiled. Maybe I didn't sell it as well as I thought I did.
"I never knew how much to tell you last year. I didn't want to make you feel like you were missing out."
"Oh, you didn't. It was the opposite, in fact. Before, I didn't think I could come back. You know financially. It was easier at home, but with Mr. Griffin helping out, I figured why not."
"I'm happy you’re here, and I'll be here for you as much as I can. You need a babysitter, I'm your guy."
"Actually, I have a babysitter."
"Oh, yeah."
"Kayla Griffin."
"What? I thought Kayla was in New York."
"She transferred here. We met when I was in Orlando last month and hit it off and she's an early education major. It kind of worked out. She's great."
"I only met her a few times, but she's cool."
"Yeah. I guess if she and I want to hang out, I'll take you up on that babysitting offer."
"Deal." He checked his phone again. "I have to get to practice, but I'll check on you later."
We walked to the front of the house.
"Jackson, you don't have to check on me or take care of me. I'm fine. I need you to be my friend?" I wanted to let Jackson off the hook. I didn’t want him to feel obligated to us.
"I am your friend, and I'm here for you."
"Thank you." I stood up on my toes, and he leaned down for me to kiss his cheek. Instead of straightening up and heading out the door, he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me to his chest. I slid my hands up his arms and they stopped on his shoulders. He pulled me a little closer and my arms wrapped around his neck. It wasn't the type of hug you gave a friend. I'm sure Tiffany would not approve, but at that moment, I didn't care.
"I missed you so much," Jackson whispered in my hair. He kissed the top of my head and let me go.
He left me standing in the hallway, trying to catch my breath as I watched him walk away back toward campus. He turned back and waved, and I raised my hand, but made no attempts to alter my gaze. I stared at his perfect body, the way the muscles in his back stood out, under his shirt. The way his waist tapered and his strong legs took long steps away from me. I had watched him walk out of my life way too much.
I should have seduced him when I had the chance.
When he disappeared from sight, I closed the door and stood with my back to it. I inhaled; his scent lingered in the hallway. I closed my eyes and leaned by head against the door.
This was going to be harder than I thought.
Chapter Eight
Jackson Latre Mitchell
Walking out of that house was the hardest thing I ever had to do.
I wanted so bad to pick her up, pin her against that door, and thank her for coming back by worshipping every inch of her. When she walked to the kitchen to get the water, I should have followed, told her no this wasn't weird, it wasn't awkward. I wanted her.
I headed to practice, but I couldn't concentrate. I got dressed and jogged to the field. I left my helmet and one of the trainers had to go get it. My timing was off, and I completed half of my passes. Always trying to make me look good, my receivers had to lay out for some and I cursed myself. It was too early in the season for me to get one of my guys hurt.
She had me off my game and my brain couldn't think of anything else except her face and her lips and the way she felt in my arms.
Coach called for a play during an eleven-on-eleven drill. The defense knew the play. I was so distracted, I didn't. I ran the ball when I was supposed to throw it, and a linebacker, thinking I was our running back, hit me square in the chest and I flew back five feet.
I saw his eyes before the hit. He tried to stop, but his momentum, along with his two hundred and fifty pounds, slammed into my chest.
It knocked the wind out of me, and I lay on the ground trying to catch my breath while half the team stood over me. Perry, the linebacker who laid me out, knelt beside me with a hand on my chest, pleading with me to get up. His future in this program depended on it.
I sat up and Perry breathed a sigh of relief and helped me up.
"Good hit, Perry." I smacked him in the chest.
"Thanks," he laughed and headed back into the huddle with the defense.
Usually, the coaches would be all over him because the defense had one rule during practice—don't touch the quarterback. Coach turned to me instead and told me to let the second string quarterback take some reps until I could get my ass in the game.
I wanted to tell him my ass was here; it was my brain that was somewhere else.
After practice, I showered and headed to the Student Union with my teammates. They laughed and joked around, but my mind was on Carrington. Every time the door opened, I hoped Carrington would walk in. I stared out into the quad looking for her.
I had a weird sense of deja vu. Two years ago, I used to look for her all over campus. I waited for those few moments when we could have a conversation. When she hooked up with Josh, I backed off. Besides, it got too hard seeing the two of them together.
When it went downhill, she needed someone to turn to. Josh was so messed up by the end and she was pregnant. I said I was doing it to protect her and the baby. It was only half
true.
The truth was I waited around to pick up the pieces.
My phone rang and I grabbed it so fast, I knocked a cup of soda off the table.
"Hello."
"Hey, baby. Where are you?" I sighed and removed the disappointment from my face before speaking.
"Hey, Tiff."
"You're at school. I thought you would be home for dinner."
"I'm sorry. I had dinner on campus with Jeff and Richard."
"Oh, okay. Well, I made you something. You can eat it tomorrow."
"Okay. Thanks."
"Are you going to be much longer?"
"Yeah, we're going to get a drink. Last first day of school and all." Jeff's face scrunched up, and I put my finger over my lips to make sure he didn't say anything. "Why don't you go on home, and I'll see you tomorrow. I won't be home until late."
"You don't want me to wait for you. We could do some celebrating ourselves."
"No. I don't want you to have to wait for me. I'll see you tomorrow."
"Okay," she said, but she was suspicious. I could hear it in her voice.
"’Night, Tiffany."
"Goodnight."
I hung up the phone. Jeff and Richard stared at me.
"What?"
"Lying to the girl already. That's not a good sign," Jeff said. Jeff Sherman was my running back. He stood five-foot-ten and weighed two hundred pounds. He redshirted last year, so this would be his first season as a starter. The kid came in eager and ready to learn, and I liked his work ethic. On the first day of spring practice, he asked me to work on hand-offs and play action routes, and we've been close ever since.
Richard Bledsoe was my wide receiver. We had been playing catch since freshman year. Part of the reason I stayed another year was to get Richard a championship. He had been hurt and didn't get to play in our last national championship game.
The three of us were inseparable, like any good QB-RB-WR tandem should be, and I was excited to see it translate to the field this year.
"Yeah, and who the hell celebrates the first day of school. Tiffany isn't the brightest girl, but she's not that stupid," Richard said.
"I know. I didn't want to deal with her tonight."
"Trouble in blond girl paradise."
Hope for Him (Hope Series Book #2) Page 6