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Hazed: A New Adult College Romance (Palm South University Book 6) Page 8
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I nod. “Ah. Must be a girl, then. I was wondering if you were working off some pent-up aggression on me out there.”
Bear doesn’t say anything, just takes another drink of water.
“You going to tell me who she is?”
“No.”
“Okay,” I laugh. “Want to talk about why she’s driving you mad, then?”
He sighs, shaking his head. “It’s my own damn fault I’m in the situation I’m in. I was too stupid to realize how I felt about her until it was too late.”
“Hmm,” I muse. “I’m very familiar with that predicament.”
Bear tries to smirk, but it falls short. “Did you ever think it would be best to give up?” he asks, looking at me. “Did you ever think to leave Cassie alone, to let her be with Grayson and just trust that you weren’t the one for her?”
I inhale a long breath. “There were times I wondered, times I thought maybe I was causing her more pain than anything else. And sometimes, that was true.” I pause. “But there was always this… attraction between us. Not just physical, but magnetic, chemical, all-encompassing. I knew when she was in the same room before I even saw her. And whether I was with someone else or she was, it didn’t matter. If she was there, my eyes were on her.”
“Creep.”
“Tell me about it.”
Bear smiles, his eyes drifting across the court again. “I think she’s happy with this guy she’s dating now, but I can’t fight the feeling that he’s wrong for her. I just feel like… like he’s going to hurt her.” He swallows. “And she’s been through a whole lifetime of hurt already.”
“You want to protect her.”
He nods.
“Well, I’ll tell you what I learned the hard way — you can’t. She’s going to make some choices, some mistakes, that will drive you insane to watch. But she has to have the space to make her own decisions, and you have to decide if you want to be there at the end of whatever path she chooses.”
“What if she chooses him?”
“Then you’re her friend.”
“And if I can’t be her friend?”
“Then you should walk away from her now.”
He lets out a long, slow breath. “I don’t like either of those options.”
“So, fight for her.”
“It’s not that easy.”
“It is. Trust me, it really is. You can make every excuse in the book for why you shouldn’t go after her, why you should let her be. But if she’s this ingrained in your thoughts?” I shrug. “You’ll never be able to sleep again until you know you gave your all fighting for her.”
“I think it has to be smoother than that.”
“Oh, I didn’t say you don’t have to play a few games,” I add with a smirk. “If she’s with this guy now, let her be with him. Chances are it’s something she needs. But… be there for her, too. And if you haven’t told her how you feel yet…” I shrug. “Might be time.”
“Ugh.”
I smile.
“I take it from the way you asked if I was worried about job hunting first that you are?”
“Nice subject change,” I tease, but then I sigh, reaching for my water again. “It’s just weird. I knew this day would come, but it always seemed so far off. And now that it’s here…”
“You don’t feel ready.”
“I feel ready for work. But I don’t feel ready to leave Cassie and be in a long-distance relationship after all it took for us to finally be happy together.”
Bear frowns, confused.
“I’m thinking of applying to be a Field Executive for Alpha Sig.”
“Whoa,” Bear says, and then he gives me a genuine smile. “Man, you’d be great at that.”
“That’s what Cassie said, too, but she doesn’t realize that if I get the job, I’ll be sent to whatever university they choose. And out of all the med schools she’s applying to, the closest I’d be to her in the most ideal situation would be two-hundred-and-thirty-five miles.”
Bear whistles.
“Yeah,” I say, grabbing my t-shirt and mopping up the sweat on the back of my neck with it. I let it hang over my shoulders when I’m done. “It just feels stupid, to make a career decision that will take me away from her like that.”
“Hey, listen to me. You and Cassie have been through a lot of shit — much, much worse than this. So what, if you get sent to a university in another state while she’s in med school? She’ll be in med school, man.” Bear looks at me with wide eyes and arched brows. “Do you know how busy she’s going to be?”
I sigh.
“She’s not going to have time to do much else than study, especially once she gets to clinicals.” Bear shrugs, then. “If anything, this is the perfect timing for you to do this job. You know as well as I do that most Field Executives only hold the position for a few years before they move on. So, go for it. You and Cassie can both focus on yourselves while still being together. And hey, it’ll make it that much more exciting when you get to see her.”
I chew my cheek on a nod. “You do have a point.”
“Just apply,” he says, clapping me on my shoulder. “And if you get in, then you talk with Cassie and you make a decision together.” He shakes his head as he stands and offers his hand down to me. “Why do you always make things more complicated than they need to be?”
“Oh, and I’m alone in that?” I ask as he helps me stand.
He narrows his eyes. “Shut up.”
I laugh just as he passes me the ball, catching it at my stomach with an oomf.
“Let’s go. First to twenty-one,” Bear calls, and then he’s jogging back to the hoop.
Later that night, Cassie is giggling while we watch her favorite show between study sessions. She’s leaning against the wall with neon-colored cards scattered all over my bed, three different textbooks open, and her hair tied up in a messy bun while I sit against the headboard with my laptop on my thighs.
As I watch her, my stomach twists in warning, heart already aching at the thought of not being this close to her — close enough to walk down the street to her house, close enough to have her in my room every night, close enough to hold her, to touch her, to kiss her, to be there on the bad days and make sure she’s celebrating all the great ones, too.
“You okay, babe?” she asks when she catches me staring at her.
“I love you, Cassie McBee.”
She smiles, leaning over the pile of study papers long enough to press a kiss on my lips. “Love you more, Adam Brooks.”
Then she’s laughing again, and I’m staring at the completed Field Executive application on my laptop, mouse hovering over the send button.
“WAIT, REALLY?!”
There’s a chuckle on the other end of the line, and even though I can’t see him, I can imagine Kade’s sexy-as-hell grin and it makes me want to jump through the phone and right into his pants.
“Really, really.”
“Kade Brewer. President of Alpha Sigma.” I smirk. “I like the sound of that.”
“Well, don’t become too fond of it just yet. I have to run for the position first. And then I have to win.”
“Which you will.”
“You sound like Adam.”
“You know, I used to think that kid was pretty dumb, but turns out, he’s a genius. They couldn’t pick anyone better to step into his shoes once he graduates.”
“Wow. J-Love being sweet. This is new.”
“Come over and I’ll show you just how sweet I can be.”
I bite my lip, because there are many, many ways I could show him, and just thinking of a few makes me squeeze my thighs together against the pussy tingles. I haven’t seen Kade since Valentine’s Day, which might be a new record for us. But he’s had his hands full with classes and fraternity events, and I know all too well how hard that can be to balance on its own.
Let alone adding in a girlfriend who lives thirty minutes away from campus.
“I wish I could,” he says with a
longing sigh that lets me know he means it. “Adam actually wants me to help with tonight’s pledge event. Since we’re swearing these guys in soon, that’s twenty-nine more votes I’ll need to win over.”
“Already hot on the campaign trail,” I muse, hopping up from where I’d been reclined on the couch. I head to the kitchen, pulling down a wine glass and a bottle of pinot grigio. The sun is already beginning to set, casting the bay in a watercolor swirl of pinks and yellows.
“Well, that’s why I wanted to talk to you… before I decided.” He pauses. “If I do this, I’m going to be busy. Busier than I already am. And you know that means less time for… us.”
“Hey, stop it right now. I’m the last thing that should be worrying you. I mean, I’m a college graduate. I’m busier now than I ever have been.”
As I say it, I wrinkle my nose at the job application abandoned on my laptop across the room. So what, I didn’t have a job offer yet? So what, I’m still living off my dad’s money and pretending like I could afford this insane condo on my own?
Kade doesn’t need to know that.
“I just don’t want you to feel like I’m not prioritizing you.”
“Tell you what,” I say, pouring the wine into my glass. As I do, Erin bursts through the front door, and by the crazy bird’s nest of hair tied on top of her head and the bags under her eyes, I can tell I’m not the only one who needs wine.
I pull down another glass, nodding to her to sit on the couch.
“Next time I see you, you can show me just how much of a priority I am to you.”
“Mmm, I like the sound of that.” Somewhere in the background, I hear a deep voice call his name. “I need to run. I’m sorry I can’t talk longer.”
“Stop apologizing and go win a presidency. I can’t wait to be your First Lady.”
He chuckles. “You going to wear a pearl necklace?”
“Only if you give it to me… while I’m on my knees.”
Kade groans at the same time Erin gives me an eww grimace from the living room.
I laugh.
“Don’t give me a boner before a fraternity event,” Kade says.
“Too late, huh?”
“Devil woman.”
“Byeee, sweetie.” I make some kissy noises and then end the call, leaving my cell phone on the counter as I grab both freshly filled wine glasses and carry them into the living room.
Erin takes the one with the heaviest pour, and in three gulps, half of it is gone.
My eyes widen as I take the seat next to her. “Bad day?”
Her brown eyes look almost black when they find me in a deadpan expression.
“What happened?” I ask with a chuckle.
She shakes her head, settling into the plush couch with her feet tucked under her and balancing her wine glass on her knee. “Just a long day at school.”
“Mm-hmm,” I say, taking a sip from my own glass. “What else?”
“That obvious, huh?”
“I’m sure law school is a total drag, but the greasy heap of hair on your head tells me this is guy related.”
Erin had let her head fall back against the cushion, but at my assessment, her neck snaps up, her eyes wild when she looks at me. “How the hell could you possibly know that?”
I shrug. “It’s my gift. Now,” I say, spreading my hand over the couch. “Tell me what happened.”
With a sigh and another big swig of wine, Erin tells me about her Valentine’s Day with Gavin. It seemed to have gone off perfectly… until the end of the night, when he stopped short of having sex with her. She goes on to tell me that since that night, which was almost two weeks ago now, he’s been acting weird, and they haven’t hung out other than catching lunch between classes the other day.
Ouch.
“Okay, first of all,” I say, holding up my pointer finger. “What kind of asshole doesn’t trip over himself at the chance to have sex with you? I mean, look at you.” I gesture a hand over her body, but then wrinkle my nose. “Okay, well, maybe you’re not a sex kitten today, but on a normal occasion?” I scoff. “I’ve seen grown ass men ready to leave their wives and sell everything they own for a shot with you.”
Erin snorts. “I highly doubt that. But regardless… he just said he wants to move slow.”
“You’ve been together for, what… four months now?”
“About,” she says. “Depends on what you consider the point we got together.”
“Doesn’t matter.” I shake my head. “You went on a freaking international trip, for God’s sake. The fact that you didn’t fuck then is a miracle. But now?” I take a sip of wine. “And, furthermore, that he’s making it weird now? Being absent? I don’t know, Erin. I don’t like it.”
Her mouth pulls to one side, and she picks at the cuticles of the fingers holding her wine glass. “There’s more to it.”
“What more could there possibly be?”
Her eyes flick to mine then, but she pulls them away quickly. “It’s complicated. But I guess what I’m saying is I understand why he chose not to that night, but just… I don’t know why he’s been so distant lately. I’m worried I fucked it up.”
“If you fucked it up by wanting to sit on his cock, then I hate to break it to you, but the man is gay.”
Erin laughs. “Trust me. He is very much not gay.”
“Then, he’s stupid.”
“Jess.”
I throw my hands up. “Look, I’ll leave it alone if you want me to. It would probably help if you told me the whole story,” I add with a pointed look. “But as it stands? If he rejected you, then started acting differently and texting you less, calling you less, seeing you less.” I take a deep breath. “Those are red flags, Ex. That’s fuck-boy behavior.”
She frowns, sinking back into the cushions. “But we didn’t even fuck. That’s what’s weird about it.”
“You guys need to talk.”
“We do,” she concedes with a sigh. “But tonight, I just want to finish that bottle of wine, heat up a frozen pizza, and watch a thriller.”
I laugh at the last part.
Then, her big brown eyes are on me, lashes batting. “Will you join me?”
My eyes flick to the application on my laptop, and though I know it’s not very adult of me, I reach over and close the lid with a click.
My bestie needs me.
Reality can wait until morning.
“I’m all yours.”
THINGS COULDN’T BE MORE perfect.
On this warm February evening in South Florida, a gentle breeze rolling in from the water and brushing my long, curled locks off my neck, it’s impossible not to feel proud as I look around at the Ball & Pen launch event.
That I planned.
That I coordinated.
That I was one-hundred percent completely in charge of.
And that’s going off without a hitch.
At first, I was bummed when we couldn’t secure a yacht like I’d envisioned, but everything happens for a reason. In lieu of being on the water, we have a sweeping view of it — plus a dramatic outline of the downtown skyline as the last of the sun sinks over the horizon.
Not only did I book one of the most romantic, intimate rooftops in the city for the event, but my team and I completely transformed it. Dramatic red uplights and canopy-draped silk took what once was just a rooftop with a pool, a bar, and plenty of space to a high-end carnival.
Games of all kinds line the left edge of the pool, except instead of winning a giant stuffed teddy bear, guests could win a cocktail, or a dress rental from the hottest boutique downtown, or a designer watch, or — my personal favorite — a speedy ride in a luxury car across town.
Performers pepper the event space tastefully, everything from drag queens in all their carnival glory to hoopers, Lyra and silks aerialists, and even some of the women I train with at the pole studio.
Deep bass and high-energy lo-fi beats thumps rhythmically through the party, loud enough to dance to, but low enough not
to overshadow the conversation. This is the kind of lighting, music, and event space that ignites deep thoughts, gives space for creative work, and illuminates endless possibilities.
I can feel it as I walk around from group to group, introducing myself and my team, checking in on guests and ensuring everyone is having a great time.
And I know the guests can feel it, too.
Jeannie is by my side as I flitter around, clipboard in hand and earpiece tucked inconspicuously in the shell of her ear. Every now and then, she’ll tap my shoulder to let me know of a minor issue, ask a question, or let me know of someone’s arrival. Otherwise, she’s a friendly smile and perfectly timed polite exit at my side.
It’s just after eight when I finally get the chance to talk to Mrs. Landers, who has been tied up with every executive at the event up until this point. She joins me at the east side of the balcony, resting an elbow on the glass railing as she lifts her champagne to her burgundy lips with a smile.
“Ms. Daniels, you completely outdid yourself.”
“Too much?” I ask with a smile that tells her I already know her answer.
“I’ve played host to many events, but none quite as eclectic as this one. If you would have let me in on the planning and told me you were conjuring up a carnival theme, I would have promptly wrinkled my nose and demanded you pivot in another direction. I mean, honestly… carnivals?” And just like she said, she wrinkles her perfect nose. “They’re dirty and smelly and cheap. But this?” She sighs, looking around the space. “This is magical.”
“Mission accomplished.”
“To you, my dear,” Mrs. Landers says, lifting her glass to mine. “And the undoubtedly bright future you have with Ball & Pen.”
I clink my glass to hers with a smile.
“I’m so glad Brandon Church was stupid enough to let you go,” she adds once we’ve cheersed, chuckling to herself and taking a sip of her champagne. She’s completely oblivious to how those words have shocked me still, especially since she’s apparently spotted someone across the pool whom she needs to speak with. “Alright, back to the rounds. Let’s rendezvous at the office Monday morning before I fly back to Atlanta. I’ve already had offers to collaborate and there are unhappy clients looking to move their accounts to our firm.”