Behind the Count: Cessna U Wildcats Book Two

by Readnour, Kimberly

  “Yep, I’m free.” My words come out rushed, but no way am I going to that party this year. Hanging with Noah is off-limits. My stomach wouldn’t survive watching girls throw themselves at him, anyway. I cringe from visualizing Marla groping him in front of everyone like she did during the playoffs last year. Nope, I can’t handle watching him flirt with other girls while he dismissed me.

  Cindy squeals. “Yay! L.A. won’t know what hit them.”

  “That sounds good. It’s been too long since we’ve hung together.” I pull my T-shirt away from my body and fan it. Dalton really worked me over today. I’m a sweaty mess. My eyes flicker to my opened dorm room. Dread creeps down my spine. Cara beat me back before I could change. God, I hope she’s alone.

  “Sorry I couldn’t make it over much this summer. I miss you.”

  “I miss you, too. But we’ll find a club that will accept our fake ids.” I laugh as if ditching me this summer was nothing when in reality it was horrible. This summer was the loneliest I’ve spent at home. Braxton and Noah were away for summer league ball and Cindy spent most of her time working at her summer internship. We barely talked. I hadn’t even told her about the infamous kiss. But that’s more out of embarrassment than from time issues. She knows all too well how far back my crush on Noah dates back.

  “Okay, I’ve got to run, but I’ll call you later when I have more details.”

  “Awesome. I’ll talk to you later.”

  We end the call, and I take a tentative step toward my room as Cara’s voice carries into the hallway. She’s definitely not alone. Shit. I glance down at my workout outfit and cringe. If Braxton is with her, I’m screwed. For the past few weeks, I’ve kept my workouts on the down low. But I can’t hide where I came from today. The big sweat ring in the front is a little hard to disguise.

  Another female voice interrupts my thoughts, and I take a calming breath. So far, I’m safe. If I don’t draw attention to myself, maybe, Cara won’t pick up on my anxiety. The last thing I want is for her to accidentally mention in front of Braxton anything about me working out. I’m not banned. My cardiologist encouraged me to exercise as long as I don’t overexert myself. Competitive sports are out, of course, but regular exercise is fine. But this is Braxton I’m talking about. He’ll worry unnecessarily even though I haven’t had a scare since before the start of school last year.

  Three days before arriving at Cessna U my freshman year, Mom insisted on having a family picnic. Her idea of a picnic was dinner out on the terrace. I was still reeling over my breakup with Caleb and wasn’t feeling the whole family vibe. Braxton could sense something off, but he never mentioned it nor did he press further.

  We filled our plates in the kitchen. By the time we walked to the patio table, the sky turned a dull gray and the temperature dropped ten degrees. We diverted the picnic to the dining room. When everyone settled around the table, my chest decided to spasm. The chest pain turned out to be caused by a panic attack from the stress of lying to my family over the breakup. Even though my heart was fine, the episode threw the entire family into a tizzy and brought back their defensive measures. I wasn’t going to push my luck last year, but this is a new start. I’m beyond ready to be normal.

  I shake off the memory and plant a huge smile on my face before stepping into the room. Relief washes over me when the mystery person turns out to be Cara’s best friend, Lexie. “Hey, everyone.”

  They say their greetings but get right back to their discussion.

  “What do you mean you’re not going?” Cara gives Lexie an exasperated look.

  “I’m not in the mood for partying. Besides, I told Mom I’d babysit.”

  “You’re lying. And don’t think for a second you’re getting out of going.”

  They must be discussing Garret’s birthday party. Although the thought of going repulses me, I’m baffled by Lexie’s protests. Last year, Lexie demanded us to go.

  “Are you talking about Garret’s party this weekend?” I ask as I dump my bag in my closet and act as if being a sticky, sweaty mess is my norm.

  “Yeah, and party girl here is trying to get out of it.” Cara points to Lexie, who isn’t hiding her guilt too well.

  “I was planning on skipping out, too.” I may as well be up front with my plans. There’s no use stringing her along.

  “What the heck is with you two?” Cara’s gaze ping-pongs between Lexie and me. Her dumbfounded expression makes me feel guilty. We were the ones who coerced her into going last year.

  “Nothing,” Lexie and I say in unison. We look at each other startled at first but then burst into giggles.

  “Do I need to remind everyone that last year you forced me to go? There’s no way I’m letting either one of you off the hook.” She gives Lexie an exasperated look. “It’s Garret’s birthday. You live for this party.”

  Lexie huffs a frustrated sigh. “Fine, I’ll go.”

  “You’d really miss the opportunity to hang out with Garret? You two are like best buddies.”

  “Yeah, well, I haven’t been feeling well. That’s all.”

  “Are you okay?”

  As much as I hope Lexie’s doing okay, I’m glad the focus shifts to her for the moment. Cara still hasn’t asked about Noah and me. I’m guessing she hasn’t picked up on our tension. And with me, of all people, not wanting to attend a party I’d generally be up for, I don’t have an excuse for my lack of enthusiasm. I can’t use the same reason as Lexie.

  When I rode with Noah to pick up the pizza, we were able to brush aside the mortification that summer evening brought and talk to each other. An honest-to-goodness talk. We fell into our usual banter quickly enough. I shouldn’t be surprised. Communication between us has always been our strong point. Whereas Braxton’s high school buddies treated me like a pariah, Noah never did. He treated me as an equal. Always had.

  The longer our conversation continued, Noah whittled away the remaining bits of embarrassment like an expert wood-carver until that summer night was nothing more than a faded memory. But then he had to blow it by mentioning Dalton. The way he spat Dalton’s name made my blood boil. It was as if he was, I don’t know, jealous. But Noah lost any right to be jealous when he denied me. And that’s the most infuriating and confusing part. His actions scream he likes me, but his words differ.

  I snatch a change of clothes and bath towels from my closet. The workout Dalton put me through is more than enough reason to want a shower, but I need time to myself. Time to think. I grab the shower caddy from the top shelf on my desk and cringe when I see the algebra homework waiting for me to finish.

  As if I don’t have enough reasons to be upset.

  Maybe I could use the excuse of needing to study more as a reason to ditch the party. I wouldn’t even be lying.

  “It’s nothing. My senior design has been kicking my ass. I’m just tired. That’s all.”

  “I’m sorry, but no excuses. And you”—Cara points her index finger at me—“don’t think for one second I’m letting you off so easily.”

  Crap. I feign innocence. “What do you mean?”

  “You’re always hellbent on going to these parties. You’re not getting out of it.”

  “I already have plans. My friend, Cindy, is coming here that weekend.”

  “Great, you both can come.”

  Well, that backfired. Think, Shannon, think.

  “Partying with an older brother constantly eyeing you isn’t much fun.” I’m actually proud of that answer since there’s more truth to it than not.

  “I don’t care. You’re not getting out of it. I have to have my buds with me. There won’t be anyone else there I like.”

  Lexie’s chuckle breaks the tension. “You don’t know anyone else except Isabella and her posse.”

  “Exactly, and you’re not letting me face them alone.”

  It doesn’t take a genius to figure out Isabella is after my brother. He’s blind to her advances, but maybe, that’s because all he sees is Cara these days. That
’s what I want. To be the center of someone’s universe. I don’t think that’s asking too much.

  And I don’t think it’s asking too much to not be tossed aside after being kissed.

  Frustrated, I stalk to the door. “I’m going to grab a shower. Catch you all later.”

  “You’re not getting out of it, Smith,” Cara yells as I step into the hallway.

  I call Cindy. Days like these are when I wish my best friend attended the same college. Even before she answers, I know what she’s going to say. “Hell, yeah, we’re going.”

  And she’s right. We will go, and I’ll be okay. I’ll show him I don’t need him to have a great time. It’ll be me who has the upper hand. Even if I’m just pretending.

  Cindy picks up on the first ring. “What’s up, girl?”

  “Change of plans.”

  Chapter Six

  Shannon

  The faint sounds of an upbeat rhythm greet Cindy and me as we step on the porch to my brother’s house. Two girls out partying should make me excited and thrilled. So, why do I feel so down?

  A low-pitched roar in what can only be described as shrilly laughter comes from the backyard. We bust out in giggles.

  “We’re going to go in there and rock this party,” Cindy says. “You’re going to bust some nuts in that outfit.”

  “Not with this crowd.” I glance down at my pale-pink, short-sleeved turtleneck. The thin, stretchy knit barely shows the outline of my bra, but matched with an olive-green, high-waisted mini skirt, I feel sexy enough.

  “You never know. There may be someone there not intimidated by your brother.”

  “I highly doubt it, but”—I lift my skirt high enough to reveal the scalloped edge of my lace-like biker shorts—I’m still keeping it classy. I don’t want accidental flash bombs.”

  Cindy laughs. “Maybe a flash bomb will prompt the idiot into taking action.”

  I release a small groan, knowing she means Noah. There are not enough thank-yous in the world for my best friend. When she came into town earlier, she could tell something was bothering me. It didn’t take long for me to confess to her what happened between Noah and me. She didn’t judge and basically said Noah needs to have some sense knocked into him. “I’m not even sure I want him anymore.”

  When she cocks her head and raises her eyebrows into a “you’ve got to be kidding me” expression, I confess. “No, that’s not true. I just don’t want to want him.”

  “I know. It’ll get better with time. Or he’ll come around.”

  “Thank you so much for driving over here tonight. I don’t think I would’ve survived this party without you.”

  “Yes, you would’ve.”

  “I wouldn’t have had anyone as awesome as you to hang with, though.” And that’s the truth. The dread of being Braxton and Cara’s third wheel sounds awful. I couldn’t hang with Dalton all night. The last thing I want to do is cockblock him. And Lexie? Well, she’s usually with Garret. I suppose I could’ve asked Todd to come. Too bad I never thought of him. Damn, I’m a horrible bestie.

  “What was that?” Cindy asks. “Me being awesome? Now, that I’ll agree to.”

  Our giggles follow us inside. Bright lights flash in the far corner of the living room. A few girls wave their hands in the air while swinging their hips. A reflective gleam beams off a girl’s bracelet, making me squint. My gaze shifts and lands right on a couple dancing provocatively with each other. Wait. I do a double take as I take in the platinum-blonde girl grinding her ass against a very fine pelvis. Is that… No, it can’t be. Lexie is dancing with none other than Kyle Grady, CU’s star quarterback. I scan the room until I find Garret. His mouth is set tight as he watches them. He shakes his head as he turns and slams the back door behind him. What was that about? Lexie has always insisted Garret and she are friends. I never believed her. And Garret’s gesture is far from friendly, proving something is going on between them.

  “Wow” falls from my lips before I can restrain it.

  “What.”

  “Uh, nothing.” I grab Cindy’s elbow and lead her toward the kitchen. “Let’s grab some drinks.”

  No use explaining what I don’t know. We fill our plastic cups with cherry vodka and take a sip. Braxton must be in the backyard known as The Meadow—the sizable stretch of land behind the row of jock housing where the guys play football. Thank God for Cara keeping him occupied. Otherwise, Braxton would be hovering. The last thing I need is my brother policing my drinks. Nope, tonight calls for extra shots of encouragement in the form of alcohol.

  A shrill giggle draws my attention across the living room and straight to Noah. He stands with his back against the wall not far from a beer pong game, talking to a brunette dressed in a red satin bodycon dress. I recognize her immediately. Lovely. My jaw clenches when Marla lets out another annoying giggle and places her hand on his chest. I grip my plastic cup tighter, fighting the urge to knock her hands away. It should be my hands palming his hard, rigid pecs, feeling his heart beat only for me. It should be my touch turning him on. Not her.

  These thoughts spinning around my mind are not me having the upper hand. It’s pure white rage from jealousy. And I hate it. Wanting someone I can’t have plain sucks, and turning off that attraction—my yearning—is damn near impossible. Not when this buildup has taken years to make.

  Noah must sense eyes upon him. His focus shifts from the brunette and lands on me. My body warms as our gazes connect and hold. What I wouldn’t pay to know what thoughts play through his mind. My own must be playing tricks again because I swear I see a sense of longing. That has to be wishful thinking, right? A cruel trick of my mind.

  I blink and focus back on Cindy.

  “Hmm, we need to get you with someone, stat.” Cindy’s low murmur comes across as a warning as she assesses Noah.

  A frustrated sigh escapes my mouth as I scope the room, looking everywhere but at the source of my frustration. “The question is who. I may as well be wearing repellant spray for men because most of the guys here are with the baseball team.”

  “Whatever possessed you to pick the same college as your brother?”

  My eyes betray me as I glance back at Noah. “They have the best art department.”

  Cindy follows my gaze and clucks her tongue. “Uh-huh, I’m sure that’s the reason.” She pats my back. “Let’s mingle. Surely, we’ll find one guy that won’t cower to your brother.”

  The only one that comes to mind is the team’s first baseman. “I’ll introduce you to my friend Dalton. I think you’ll like him.” Hopefully, I won’t be cockblocking him.

  In no time, we find Dalton talking to a couple of girls, but when he spots me, he says something to them and heads my way.

  “You’re looking rather delicious tonight. Are you ready for another round, or are you too sore from our earlier workout?”

  “Stop,” I say, laughing as I playfully swat him on the chest. Oh God, I’m acting like Marla. I straighten my stance as Cindy’s eyebrows shoot straight up. Her surprised expression causes me to laugh harder, though. I don’t know if she’s more shocked by what he said or from his looks. “Dalton, I’d like you to meet my best friend, Cindy.”

  “The pleasure’s all mine.” He shoots her that seductive smile he’s best known for.

  Cindy blushes a pure crimson, starting at the base of her neck clear to the tips of her ears. I press my lips together before bursting into full-blown laughter. But to be fair, Dalton’s voice does have a soothing, seductive way about it. For some reason, his tactics don’t have the same effect on me as it does on others.

  It’s because you’re hung up on someone you can’t have, the annoying voice in my head reminds me.

  Dalton keeps us entertained for a while. I try to pay attention as much as possible. I laugh at the appropriate times. I even contribute when I can, but the entire time, my gaze keeps wandering over to Noah. And I hate myself for it. What I hate even more is finding Noah glaring at Dalton. He really needs to chill.
He’s lucky I’m not immature, because I could totally play the whole I-have-another-man routine. Dalton would go along with me. I know he would. But I’m not about playing games. There wouldn’t be any point. It’s obvious Noah’s just being overprotective like my brother. Maybe, since Braxton has loosened the reins, Noah feels the need to tighten them. This whole big brother protection routine is rather frustrating and old.

  I’m pulled back to reality when someone calls Dalton’s name.

  “Looks like I’m being summoned. I’ll talk to you later.” He turns to Cindy. “Nice meeting you.”

  “Girlfriend, why don’t you go out with him?” Cindy asks when the threat of Dalton overhearing passes.

  I squirm, shifting my weight to the other foot. “I like Dalton a lot. There’s more to him than what he lets people see, but our relationship is nothing more than a friendship. I don’t know. I just don’t feel it with him.”

  “Something tells me after one night with him you’d be feeling it all right.”

  “Not quite what I meant.”

  “Seriously, you just need to get laid.”

  “It’s not going to be with any one of these bozos. That, I guarantee.” I get what she’s saying, but regardless of how much I would like too, I can’t have a one-night stand. It’s not who I am. Not yet, anyway. I’d rather have sex first. Maybe, if life hadn’t handed me a shitty deck of cards, my attitude would be different. But after the stunt Caleb pulled on me, the man I sleep with will have to be someone I’m close with. Someone trustworthy.

  That is why I willingly attacked Noah that night. I trust him. Or, at least, I did.

  Maybe, I’ll forever be single. Die a virgin. Never having sex wouldn’t be so horrible, would it? I mean, pleasuring yourself has to be better than the constant rejection I seem to be getting.

  “To hell with all men, then. Let’s refill our cups and then dance.”

  “That I can agree to.” I nod at her assertion.