My chest is on fire as I pinch the bridge of my nose and fight back the emotion threatening to strangle me.
“I have to go.”
“No,” she cries. “Please, Adam. Please.”
“I can’t talk to you right now, Cassie. You have to respect that. Just… I need some time.”
“Adam—”
But I hang up before she can say another word.
My fist curls around my phone, desire to crush it surging through me. I shove through the back door and inside, instantly feeling suffocated by the heat coming from the fireplace. I jog upstairs before any of the guys can ask me what’s wrong, but I don’t miss the way they watch me, the concern in their eyes.
When I make it to my room, I slam the door shut, finally letting myself heave my phone across the room. It hits the wall and bounces off, the screen cracking when it hits the hardwood floor. And with the music loud enough to drown it out, I let out an animalistic scream, one loud and long enough to make my throat hurt when I finish.
I stand in the middle of the room, panting, and then the anger starts to fade, and my imagination turns even more cruel in its absence.
I can see it, another man’s hand sliding in to caress her face, her neck, tilting her chin up, finding those big, innocent green eyes staring up at him, those light pink lips parted and waiting, those soft hands twisting in his shirt…
I barely make it to the trash can by my desk before I vomit, mostly stomach acid burning my throat and my nose as I release.
I stay there for a while, waiting, expecting more before I finally kick back and lean against my bed. I can’t stop shaking my head, can’t stop closing my eyes tight and opening them again only to discover I’m not stuck in a nightmare the way I wish I was.
I just want to wake up and this all be gone.
I want to wake up and laugh at the audacity, at the outrageousness of even thinking Cassie could hurt me like this.
Barbed wire shreds my guts as I crawl over to my desk, pulling the top drawer open and reaching my hand inside. I feel around until I find what I’m looking for, and then I sit back on my heels, staring at the box in my hand as the hardwood digs into my knees.
I pop it open, and the diamond ring glistens in the Christmas lights, sending another pang of torture through my chest.
I fall back against the bed again so hard it moves, banging into the wall a bit and scraping against the floor.
Then I clutch the ring to my chest.
And I break.
I CAN REMEMBER A time when walking this very same walk would fill me with power.
I remember the sound of my heels clacking on Greek Row, the Boss Bitch energy flowing through me with the knowledge that I wore nothing but lacy lingerie under my long coat. I remember storming inside the Alpha Sigma house like I owned it, like I owned Kade.
And I did.
I had him wrapped around my little finger, and he had me.
It doesn’t seem possible that that moment was in this same lifetime, let alone just a little over a year ago. We were so new then, exploring each other, having fun — all under the premise that I was training him to be good in bed, to be good with girls, and he was just helping me medicate my broken heart.
How quickly that turned to love.
How easily he became one of my best friends.
How comfortably he fit into my life, and made me fit into his.
The thought makes me sick as I walk Greek Row now, feeling about as out of place as a bride wearing black. This wasn’t my home anymore, these weren’t my streets to rule, and this wasn’t my man to own.
I don’t even know what I’ll find when I get to the Alpha Sigma house now, if the boy who first caught my attention on that cruise ship will shine through, or if the man I fell in love with will still be there, or if they’ve both been replaced by the shell of who he’s become in the time it’s taken me to damn near kill him.
It’s an effort to hold my dinner down when I walk through the door — open, as per usual, the living room filled with brothers. Half of them are at the long dinner table in the back, textbooks and laptops spread out around them, and the other half are trying and failing to be quiet as they play video games on the big screen. I don’t get more than a few glances when I walk in — and since I look like absolute shit, no one stares long enough to care who I am.
I walk slowly back to Kade’s room, stomach in knots, but find it empty.
“He’s outside hanging Christmas lights,” one of the brothers says to me, and then he’s texting away on his phone and walking back down the hall.
I blow out a breath, following him until I’m rounding the dining room and making my way to the courtyard.
I stop at the sliding glass door when I spy him, standing at the bottom of a tall ladder and pointing at something on the roof as he instructs the brother at the top of the ladder where to hang the next strand. His face is aglow, the light and shadow of the night playing against his muscles. It’s pleasantly cool tonight, and he’s wearing a long sleeve A Sig shirt and black sweatpants that make me want to curl up with him on the couch.
My eyes water, heart stinging in my chest.
And as if he senses the spirit of our past, too, he stops what he’s doing, frowns, and turns to find me staring at him.
There’s no confusion in this face when he finds me, no surprise or shock. It’s a lifeless sort of stare, one laced with pain and accusation and something a lot like hope. He swallows after a moment, muttering something to the brother on the ladder before he makes his way to me.
I open the sliding glass door, meeting him halfway, and the brothers who were working outside with him give me a polite nod and hello as they squeeze past me and inside, shutting the door behind them.
An eerie quiet falls over us, brothers laughing and talking inside, but the sound muted by the soft hum of the night. The Christmas lights that have been successfully hung glow above us, the other strands curled at our feet, waiting for their turn.
Kade’s eyes search mine for a long moment before his body ebbs toward me, like he wants to wrap me in a hug, but he stops himself, shoving his hands in the pockets of his sweats, instead.
“Can we go for a walk?” I ask, my voice cracking.
Kade closes his eyes, opens them again, his gaze on his shoes. He nods.
We don’t say a word as we walk around the side of the house and back onto Greek Row, and I start the trek that leads into the heart of campus, listening to the sound of our sneakers on the sidewalk.
“How are you?” I ask when we’re far enough from the house.
Kade glances at me like he’s not sure he actually believes I asked him that before shaking his head a little.
You already know — that’s what he says without words.
I tuck my hands in the back pockets of my jeans on a nod, my eyes watering. I don’t know where to start other than the obvious place.
“I’m sorry, Kade,” I whisper.
He blows out a breath — long, slow, and shaky.
“I don’t have an excuse for how I’ve behaved. I don’t have any words that will make any of it right, make it go away, or make it feel better. I just don’t. All I have for you is honesty,” I say, glancing at him before my eyes are on my shoes again. “I vow to give you that.”
Kade doesn’t say a word, but I know he’s listening.
“When Jarrett came back,” I start. “It blew up my entire world. Everything I thought I knew about him, about you, about us… it just became clouded behind this big, heavy fog. But when we finally talked, I got some clarity, some… closure, I guess, that I didn’t realize I needed. I thought everything was going to be fine. And I meant it,” I say, looking at him then. “I meant what I said to you last semester. That I love you.”
“I know,” Kade whispers. His voice is laced with such pain it feels like it’s splitting my ribs in half.
“I never expected to ever see him again. I damn sure never expected for him to tell me he still
had feelings for me.” I bite my lip as tears blur my vision. “I have been the most atrocious person, all because I was confused, trying to hold onto what I have with you, while also reaching for what I had with him.”
We make it to the reflection pond, the palm trees around it decked out in red and white lights, and I tug Kade’s sleeve, guiding him over to one of the benches. When we take a seat, he scoots away from me, his back rigid, eyes on the pond.
“I am so sorry, for everything I have done, for everything I can’t take back,” I whisper.
I reach out for him, covering one of his hands with mine and heaving a sigh of relief when he doesn’t jerk away.
“Please, look at me,” I beg.
Kade closes his eyes on a burning exhale before he does as I asked, and the moment our eyes meet — really meet — both our lips tremble with emotion.
“Kade, I love you,” I whisper, tears pooling in my eyes and falling over my cheeks, silently carving rivers down to my jaw. “I love you. And I want to be with you.”
Kade cracks then, a brief moment of shock washing over his face before he crumples, pinching the bridge of his nose in one hand as his shoulders begin to shake. He can’t fight back the emotion, and seeing him succumb to it makes my tears come even faster.
“I want to be with you,” I repeat. “But…”
His eyes snap to mine.
“But I don’t know if it’s right to be.”
“Jesus Christ, Jess,” he says. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying that I want you. I want us. But what I’ve done to you… I don’t think I could ever forgive you, if it were me in the reverse. I don’t deserve you, Kade. Or your love. I…”
My words choke off on a sob, and I cover my mouth with my hand, shaking my head as tears sting my cheeks.
Kade lets out a breath, something of a smile on his lips before his arms are around me, pulling me across the space between us on the bench and crushing me to him. He inhales my scent once I’m in his arms, and I do the same, crying harder at the way it feels to have him hold me, at the warmth of his body, at the familiar smell of his cologne.
“You deserve so much more than me,” I sob into his chest. “So much better than what I have done to you.”
“Shhh…”
“No,” I say, shaking my head as I pull away from him. I look right into his eyes when I continue. “I can’t ever forgive myself. I don’t know how you could. I want to be with you, but how could I honestly ask that of you, after everything?”
Kade sighs, rubbing my arm with his hand as his eyes flick between mine. He doesn’t say anything for a long while, and I know he’s realizing it, too — I’ve hurt him too badly to ever repair it.
“I won’t deny that I have been sick for the last four months,” he says. “And I won’t say you didn’t hurt me, because you did. But, fuck, Jess, if I didn’t think you were worth the pain, if I didn’t think you were worth the wait, and if I didn’t believe in us the way I do, do you honestly think I would have stuck around?”
I sniff. “But—”
“You say you wouldn’t have been able to do the same, but I know that’s a lie, too. Because if I would have asked you for time, for space, you would have given it to me. And if I would have asked you to wait for me to figure out what I needed, you would have done it. Tell me you wouldn’t have.”
I bite my bottom lip hard against the emotion building in my throat. Kade just lifts a brow, waiting.
“I would have,” I whisper.
“And why?”
I close my eyes, then, releasing more tears. “Because I love you.”
“Because you love me. And I love you, Jess. In case you haven’t realized it yet, love isn’t some beautiful painting hanging in a museum. It’s scarred with pencil marks and eraser stains and layers of paint trying to hide the one underneath it and failing miserably. It’s messy — perfectly so. Maybe you don’t deserve me. Maybe I don’t deserve you. But we love each other enough that none of that matters.”
“I just don’t know if I’m good for you…”
He smiles then, swiping away a fresh tear with his thumb before I lean into his touch.
“Why don’t you let me be the one to decide that.”
I don’t get the chance to answer because he frames my face in his hands and pulls me into him, his lips warm and salty when they meet mine, and I taste our tears when I open my mouth and he slides his tongue inside.
Our hearts breathe a sigh of relief at the kiss, hands trembling where we hold each other, and suddenly it’s far too cold to be comfortable. I climb into his lap, holding on tight as I soak in every kiss I’ve missed in the last four months, and he holds me just as tight, wrapping himself up in my warmth.
“Come on,” he whispers, reluctantly breaking our kiss and pulling me to stand. “I don’t want to fuck you in a public place this time. I want you all to myself.”
I blush at the memory of the karaoke event, laughing a little as he tucks me under his arm and steers us back toward Greek Row.
Time seems to pass unnaturally on that walk, our hands intertwined, words no longer needed, our hearts beating soundly for the first time in months. When we make it back to the A Sig house, he quietly leads me inside and back to his room, locking the door behind him once we’re inside.
It’s pitch black, not a single light on, and his blackout curtains shielding the Christmas lights from the courtyard. I feel his hands on me before my eyes adjust, and even then, I can barely make him out, barely see more than an inch in front of my face.
But I feel him.
I feel his breath on my skin, his lips against my neck as he tugs me into him and presses his body flush against mine. He kisses blindly until he finds my mouth, his hands exploring in the dark, gliding the length of my ass before cupping and slipping between my legs.
I loose a breath at the feeling, at being touched, at knowing he’ll be the only one touching me forever—
Or, at least, until he’s sick of me.
Anxiety tries to fight its way through, but Kade’s next kiss silences all attempts, and then I’m led backward, the back of my knees hitting the bed before we tumble into it.
“Everything that I am,” he whispers against my stomach as he peels my sweatshirt off, my hair tumbling through the neck hole and over my breasts as he discards it. “Everything that I have,” he says as he wrangles me out of my sports bra. “It all belongs to you.”
I run my hands through his short hair, pulling him to me until I can find his mouth, and I kiss him with the promise that I feel the same.
Slowly, piece by piece, I strip him down as he does the same to me. We climb under the comforter and pull it up over our heads, our hot, needy breaths warming us as we explore every inch of each other in the dark.
I flip him onto his back, tasting his abs on my way down to his shaft, and he hisses a breath when I take him inside my mouth, swallowing him whole.
I don’t even get to adequately tease him before it’s me being flipped, my legs spread wide, Kade’s fingers parting me at the seam before his tongue lashes the part of me aching for him most.
Gone is the urgency, the rush, the need to claim that we both felt surging through us that night at the concert. In its place is reverence and understanding, wonder and awe, disbelief and gratitude. I touch him like it’s both the first and the last time, and he makes love to me like these hours here in this bed are the last we have on Earth.
Neither of us chase our orgasm. Neither of us speed up our pace or do the things we know will make the other unravel. We soak in every second, moaning and tasting and biting and licking. He fucks me from behind, and then I roll him over to ride. He straddles my face to fuck my mouth while he sucks on my clit, and then I’m spread underneath him, hooking one leg on his shoulder.
All night long, we exist in that dark room of a universe.
My soul is at peace. My heart is finally home.
But in the back of my mind, I know the wor
st part is still to come.
Because I’ve finally made my choice.
And there’s still one person left to tell.
THE RAIN PELTS MY jacket as I exit the parking garage and make a left, hands in my pockets and head down. I wish I had my umbrella, wish I would have been smart enough to check the weather before I left my house, but I’m a bundle of nerves, and it was all I could do to choke down breakfast with my stomach like this.
I thought I’d already tackled the hardest part earlier this morning, that walking into the agency and handing in my two weeks’ notice would be the biggest challenge of the day. It wasn’t easy — especially when my boss offered me a raise to try to keep me. Giselle glaring at me from her office didn’t add to the comfort, either, but I ignored her altogether.
I made up my mind over the weekend.
And there was no amount of money that could change it.
I spent the morning making a list of the projects I’ll need to finish before I leave, and listing out who I think will be the best to delegate my work to once I’m gone.
And now, on my lunch break, I’m checking the next thing off my list.
I thought this would be the easy part.
The way my ribs are closing in on my lungs suggests otherwise.
The last two weeks of my life have been spent preparing me for this exact moment. I’ve dedicated every waking hour not at work to researching, analyzing, planning out strategy, compiling the documents I need, and filing the necessary paperwork to get this lunch meeting in the first place.
I’ve been so focused that I haven’t even seen Erin since she got back from her trip.
In all fairness, she told me she needed some space, too. I don’t know what happened in Mexico, but I do know the way we left things couldn’t have had her in that great of a mood. I wanted to see her the moment her plane landed, wanted to hold her and talk through everything that had happened.
But she said she needed to get sleep for school, that she had finals coming up, that she needed to focus. I think I’ve known in my gut that it’s a lie, an excuse, but the truth is I’ve been busy, too.
Greek: A New Adult College Romance (Palm South University Book 7) Page 25