Ritual: A New Adult College Romance (Palm South University Book 5)

by Kandi Steiner

  I sigh, feeling warmth spread through my chest like that island sunshine.

  I’ve known Brandon for a full year now, and somehow, he still manages to surprise me.

  He’s still on my mind after I have lunch with MyKayla, so before my first team meeting, I slip into his office, hellbent on sneaking a kiss or two.

  That plan is throttled, however, when I walk in and find two, long, tan and toned legs with red-bottom stilettos strapped to the feet hanging from the edge of his desk.

  I stop in the doorway, following the line of those legs up to the body attached to them. The girl sitting on the corner of his desk — the desk he’d bent me over too many times to count — is younger than me, by the looks of it, with long, bleach-blonde hair and lips painted the same bright red as the bottom of her Louboutins. She’s wearing a chic, black pencil skirt with a crisp, white button-up top that cuffs at her elbows. She has her arms wrapped around a binder, and her eyes on my boyfriend as she laughs.

  As he laughs with her.

  I’m not sure how long I stand there — it must only be a fraction of a second, though it feels like hours. And when the laughter subsides, Brandon finds me in the doorway, and his smile somehow stretches even wider.

  “Well, if it isn’t our brand-new account manager,” he says, standing and fastening the button of his blazer. He turns his attention back to the girl. “Sophie, this is Ashlei Daniels. She started as an intern, too, and today is her first day as a full-time employee.”

  Sophie turns her wide, sparkling, honey eyes to me, then.

  We’re practically twins.

  “Wow, so you’re the famous Ashlei Daniels,” she says, genuinely.

  She stands then, and I take a breath that doesn’t burn quite as badly now that her legs aren’t dangling off Brandon’s desk anymore.

  “Sophie Miller,” she says, extending her hand for mine. I shake it with the best smile I can muster. “I’ve heard a lot about you already.”

  “Have you, now?” I ask, quirking a brow at Brandon.

  “You have a great reputation here,” she explains. “I’ve only been here two weeks and already I’ve heard your name referenced a million times. It’s nice to finally put a face to the name.”

  The longer she talks, the more I realize I can’t figure her out. At first, she seemed bubbly and sweet, but something about the firmness of her handshake, the way her eyes linger on mine, the confidence in the way she holds her shoulders back, in her smile…

  It puts me on edge.

  It’s like she already owns this place and everyone who works here, too.

  “That’s sweet,” I say when our hands release. “It’s nice to meet you.”

  “Sophie is already making a name for herself, too,” Brandon says, circling his desk to join us on the other side of it. “Two weeks in and she’s already brought in a new client.”

  Brandon smiles at Sophie, and she beams under his gaze like a prized peacock.

  I narrow my eyes.

  I don’t know why jealousy is flaring hot and bird-like in my chest, but it is, and I hate that I feel threatened by this girl just as much as I hate that I had no idea who she was before this very moment.

  Why hadn’t Brandon mentioned her to me?

  Then again, why would he?

  I’ve been off work for three weeks. I’ve repeatedly told him not to talk about work around me because it was my break, my time off, my vacation.

  Now, I’m back.

  And apparently, there’s a new girl in town.

  Sophie waves him off, blushing — and I swear to God, my fists curl at my sides at the sight of those stupid red cheeks.

  “You’re too kind, Mr. Church,” she says, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as she peeks up at him through her lashes.

  Yes, peeks up at him, like a shy little girl.

  “I’ll get these reports on your desk by the end of the day,” she says, patting the binder in her hands. Then, she turns to me, and there’s a glint of something in her eyes when she smiles. “It was so nice to meet you, Ashlei. I look forward to working together.”

  I smile, too. “Yes, you too, Sophie.”

  With one last little wave of her fingers, she’s gone, and Brandon pulls me into his arms for a kiss that distracts me long enough to forget why my chest was tight in the first place.

  Why did I just feel threatened by a freaking intern?

  I shake my head at myself, wrapping my arms around Brandon’s neck with a sigh. “Hi,” I say.

  “Hey, you. How’s the first day back going?”

  “It’s busy,” I admit. “Took all morning just to catch up on emails and get my calendar in order. I’m about to walk into my first meeting, but I wanted to see you first.”

  “I’m glad you stopped by,” he says, releasing me and putting a work-appropriate distance between us. “We still on for dinner tonight?”

  “You bet your sweet ass, we are.”

  He chuckles. “Good luck at your first meeting, babe.”

  My heart flutters at the pet name, and he leans in to kiss my cheek before rounding his desk to get back to work. I’m almost to the door of his office when I turn again, watching him, something pulling at a string tied around my chest.

  He stops typing, looking at me with a frown. “Everything okay?”

  There’s a question looming inside that aching chest of mine, but I can’t quite figure out what it is. All I do know is that it was born from jealousy.

  And that that jealousy is unfounded.

  So, I force a breath and smile, shaking my head. “Just taking one last look at my hot boyfriend.”

  Brandon rolls his eyes, balling up a piece of notebook paper on his desk and throwing it at me. I catch it and toss it up in the air before pretending to slam-dunk it in the waste bin by his door.

  “See you tonight, cheese ball.”

  “Tonight,” I echo.

  And I ignore what’s left of that burning question as I make my way down the hall to my meeting.

  MY BEST FRIEND IS out of orbit.

  I’ve been suspicious of it since the summer, when he all but ignored me. And once we got back to school for fall semester, I knew it was true. He’s too quiet, too broody, too shut off. He’s not cracking jokes or cracking beers, and both are tell-tale signs that he’s not okay.

  Which is exactly why I’m flopped on the bean bag in Clinton’s room while his legs hang off his bed above me, both of our eyes fixed on his television screen. We’re both silent, save for the clicking of buttons as we play some stupid video game that I only marginally understand.

  But that silence is about to be broken, because I’m tired of pretending like everything is fine.

  “So,” I say as our characters traipse through the mystical woods of another world in search of our next mission. “How are classes going so far?”

  Clinton grunts in lieu of an answer.

  “That good, huh?”

  No answer.

  “You been spending a lot of time with Becca?”

  Again, he doesn’t answer, and when I glance at him, he just shrugs.

  “How’s Baby Bear?” I ask, referring to his little brother.

  “Seems good.”

  I sigh, pausing the game before I pop up off the bean bag and sit on the bed next to him. He scowls at the screen, trying to restart the game on his own controller, but since I’m the one who paused it, the play remains frozen.

  “Bear, can we stop? Please?”

  “Stop playing?”

  I narrow my eyes. “Yes. The video game and whatever game it is you’ve been playing since last semester.” I relax my glare on a sigh, reaching over to squeeze his forearm — which is so buff from all his working out that I can barely squeeze it at all. “Something is going on. Talk to me.”

  Bear drops his shoulder and the controller at that, a long exhale leaving his giant chest as he scrubs his hands over his face. When his hands fall, he stares at the paused television screen, opening his mo
uth before he closes it again.

  “My mom is back.”

  I blanch, because that was the absolute last thing I was expecting him to say. “Back? As in…”

  “As in, she messaged Clayton on Facebook a couple weeks ago, and I told him not to answer until I talked to her.”

  “And did you?”

  He nods, just once, barely visible.

  I swallow. “What did she say?”

  “I asked her what the hell she was doing messaging Clayton, and told her if she was looking for more money to piss the fuck off.”

  “Fair,” I say, but I reach for his hand, squeezing it in my own because I know this kind of callousness doesn’t come from my best friend unless he was really, really hurt.

  “She said she just wanted to talk, to catch up. She’s back in Pittsburgh.”

  “Shit…”

  “I told her to stay away from Clayton. At least, until I can see her and make sure she’s clean.”

  “What’d she say to that?”

  Bear finally looks at me then. “She booked me a plane ticket home.”

  At that, my jaw hinges open. “She… like, she paid for it?”

  He nods. “I’m going the weekend before Halloween.”

  A long silence passes between us, and I watch him, searching his eyes for some sort of clue as to what he feels about all of it.

  “Want me to go with you?”

  He shakes his head immediately. “I need to do this on my own.”

  “Okay,” I whisper. “So… this just happened a couple weeks ago?”

  He nods.

  “Then… what’s been going on before this? You haven’t been yourself all summer, all fall semester.”

  Clinton’s jaw ticks, but before he can answer me, his eyes shift to something behind me, and he stands.

  I turn, finding my Big standing in the frame of his bedroom door.

  Erin is completely put together, as she always is, with a Lily Pulitzer dress and matching bow in her hair. But aside from her perfect makeup and outfit, there’s something off about her, too. There has been ever since she betrayed me at Spring Break last year.

  But whereas I’ve felt a calling to find out what’s wrong with Bear, I haven’t felt anything toward Erin.

  Other than the urge to stay away from her.

  Her big, brown eyes are locked on Bear, and when I look up at him, he’s staring right back at her. Erin’s hands are folded in front of her, and she picks at her nails, but Bear just stands stoic, unflinching, his jaw still hard set from our conversation.

  I finally clear my throat, addressing Erin. “Uh… what’s up?”

  Erin blinks, as if I’ve woken her from a daze, and then her eyes find mine. “I was hoping I could talk to you.”

  She says the words to me, but her eyes move to Bear’s again, and I can’t help but feel whatever weird tension is going on between them. I know they were friends before last semester, but I also know that Bear lit her ass up after what she did to me and Kip. I had no idea if they’d ever worked through it.

  Judging by the way they’re acting now, I’d say it’s a big fat nope.

  “Um, sure,” I answer, standing. I turn, giving Bear a big hug and assuring him I’ll text later before I make my way to where Erin is.

  She and Bear don’t exchange a single word.

  When we’re out of the Omega Chi house and on Greek Row, Erin takes a deep breath, like she’d been stuck on an exhale the entire time we were inside.

  “Thank you for talking to me,” she starts.

  I nod, and for a few steps we’re both quiet, other than the clicking of her kitten heels and my sandals on the sidewalk.

  “I know things aren’t going to get better overnight,” she says after a while. “Between us. I know I royally screwed up. I betrayed you, asked you to do something… horrid,” she whispers, shaking her head. “And then I went full-on crazy and you were in the line of fire.”

  My nose flares, but I tell myself to listen, to be open to what she has to say.

  “But,” she continues. “I’ve been going to therapy for months now, and something I’m really trying to do is make amends with the people I’ve hurt.”

  Her expression morphs then, her brows folding together as she casts a glance back at the Omega Chi house. Then, she lets out a long sigh.

  “Last semester, when I apologized, it wasn’t sincere. I know that now, looking back. I tried to blame you, too — to make it somehow partly your fault that I did what I did to you.”

  She stops walking, waiting for me to face her, and it’s such an interesting sight to behold — this perfectly put-together girl falling apart on Greek Row on a sunny, South Florida day.

  “I am so sorry, Sky. Truly,” she whispers, her bottom lip quivering. “I’m sorry I asked you to lure Kip in for me, that I manipulated you with the presidency, that I turned on you in front of everyone we know.” She chokes on a sob, shaking her head and covering her mouth. “I am truly ashamed. I was in a very, very dark place, but that does not excuse what I did to you. And I hope we can start over, from this moment on. And I don’t expect you to forgive me, but I hope one day we can have a friendship again.”

  My heart breaks at the sight of two tears streaming simultaneously down each of her cheeks, and I sigh, reaching out for her. In the next instant, she’s in my arms, holding me so tightly I chuckle.

  “I already forgave you,” I tell her. “But I appreciate the genuine apology.” I pull back then, looking her in the eyes. “And I’m sorry I’ve been avoiding you. I just… I guess part of me wondered if that version of you I saw last semester was still hanging around. I was a little scared.”

  “That’s fair,” she says, sniffing. She pulls a tissue from her purse and wipes daintily at her nose. “That version of me was an absolute monster.”

  “And who are you now?”

  She laughs at that, shaking her head as she folds the tissue. “Figuring that out.”

  I smile, squeezing her arm. “You said you were in a dark place… what happened?”

  “Oh, boy,” she says, blowing out a breath and looking around Greek Row. Then, she loops her arm through mine, steering me toward the house once more. “There’s a lot more to the story of everything that happened last semester, and before that. But… I can’t tell you. Not yet, okay? I’m just… I’m not there yet.” She looks at me with a glossy smile. “But I will be. One day. Hopefully soon.”

  I cover her hand that’s looped through my arm, smiling back. “Whenever you’re ready.”

  “Right now, I was kind of thinking… margaritas?”

  I nudge her. “Oh, now you’re just trying to butter me up.”

  “Is it working?”

  “Add in some chips and guac, and I’ll be as buttered as a biscuit.”

  We both laugh, and just like that, the past is the past.

  At least, for now.

  THE LAST TWO WEEKS have been hell.

  After seeing Cassie with Grayson, I completely lost it. I found myself in one of my old habits — numbing. And I knew it was wrong. I knew it wasn’t healthy. But there was literally nothing I could do to stop it.

  I still can’t.

  For the last couple of weeks, I’ve thrown myself into everything Alpha Sigma. I’ve spent more time with my brothers, worked on our plans for the semester and next, and more than anything, dedicated time and effort to getting everything in order for tonight’s event.

  The Alpha Sigma Karaoke Showdown.

  Jeremy had me worried, after our conversation a couple weeks ago, that I’d made a terrible decision in changing up the event. After all, he was right — the concert had been successful for two years. It was part of what got our fraternity on the map again. And as soon as it had a reputation, I get the big idea to go and change it up.

  But now, halfway through the event and having already raised more than double what we did with the concert funds last year, I know I’ve made the right choice.

  And still, I
feel numb.

  It doesn’t matter that the event has gone over without a hitch, that every fraternity and sorority showed up to participate and compete, that the crowd is packed with students from all over campus, here for the entertainment and the opportunity to help determine the winners.

  It’s exactly as I imagined it.

  Except that in my mind, I always saw Cassie right by my side through it all.

  And since that day, I’ve been avoiding her.

  It’s not that I don’t want to be with her. It’s the exact opposite, really. But, the first few times we hung out after I saw her with Grayson, I tried several different ways to get her to bring up that she’d talked to him. I asked about her classes, asked if anything strange had happened, asked if there was anything going on that she needed to talk about. I literally asked her in every single way I could without coming right out with it.

  And she hadn’t said a word.

  She still hasn’t told me that she spoke to him. For all she knows, I’m still oblivious to the fact that she’s talked to him at all since she found out he cheated on her at her semi-formal last year.

  I’ve tried to understand, tried to give her space, tried to put my anger at bay by throwing myself into other things.

  But one thing remains ominously true.

  She’s hiding something from me, and now, I no longer trust her.

  Every day, when that thought crosses my mind, a sharp pain like a knife to the gut passes through me. It happens again as I make my way across the large lawn where we’re hosting the concert during intermission. She’s standing with some of her sisters and my brothers, smiling and blushing and watching me walk toward her.

  And I feel nothing but betrayal.

  “There he is!” Kade says from where he’s standing in the crowd. He rushes over to me, launching himself high into the air and forcing me to catch him whether I want to or not. When he’s cradled in my arms — the beast of a guy — he rubs his knuckles against my skull. “El Presidente, putting on the best damn show this school has seen.”

  I chuckle, dropping him to the ground to the tune of light applause and other brothers joining in on his sentiments.