I pass it to her, still looking around and trying to ignore the pit in my stomach at the fact that I knew nothing about what to expect today since Adam and I have barely talked, let alone seen each other. “He is, indeed.”
“I’m sure the pressure is insane,” Skyler says, rubbing lotion on her chest. “No one has ever been president two years in a row.”
My stomach twists again, but I force a smile. “Speaking of pressure, how is Kip doing in the film program at UCLA?”
“Oh, kicking ass and taking names, of course. He’s working on a script for an online series right now that will go up in competition against the other students in his program. He seems pretty geeked up about it, but won’t tell me much.”
“When do you get to see him next?”
Skyler frowns a little at that, squeezing more lotion into her hands before passing the bottle to me. “Thanksgiving. I can’t believe it’s already been two months.”
I reach over to squeeze her arm. “But hey, Thanksgiving is just a month away.”
“Twenty-three days,” Skyler corrects with a smile. “I hope he knows we’re not leaving his dorm room.”
I snicker. “And I hope his roommates have noise-cancelling headphones.”
It’s only a little past noon, and already the Halloween party is in full swing. Just looking around the island at the multitude of students doing beer bongs and keg stands and hammering back shots tells me most of them won’t make it to sunset. Still, I love seeing how creative everyone got with their costumes, finding ways to dress up but in swimsuits. I spot an Indiana Jones, a group of Minions from the Despicable Me movie, animals of every kind, superheroes and Disney princesses, Barbies and musicians, even a few puns — like Bear’s Little, Josh, who has a lampshade on his head and a box over his shoulders with a table cloth and some random items on top. The front of it says “one night stand.”
The girls and I decided to go for something sexy but classy, landing on pin-up dolls. For one, it was easy to transform that into a swimsuit costume, and for two, we could each dress in colors that complemented our different skin and hair colors.
I’m in an emerald two piece, the bottoms high waisted with a frilly trim, the top a shiny sweetheart cut with straps over my shoulders. I curled my short red hair and wrapped a matching green bandana around it to tie at my forehead, and painted my lips a cherry red.
Skyler, on the other hand, is sexy as hell in a yellow one piece that looks more like a man’s shirt than a swimsuit. It’s loose at the top, with a deep V that accentuates her tan cleavage and toned stomach, but it cinches at her waist and hugs her ass perfectly at the bottom. It looks like a cuffed sleeve where the straps hook around her neck, and the left breast has a pocket, like a work shirt. She’s paired it with jean shorts that I’m sure will come off at some point, and her hair is braided into pigtails, each wrapped with yellow bows.
“Speak of the devil, if it isn’t the big man on campus,” Skyler says with a grin, skipping past me. I turn just in time to see her give Adam a big high-five before hanging her hands on her hips. “This is bad ass, my friend. Well done.”
“Thank you, thank you,” Adam replies, pretending to bow.
“How the hell did you get a DJ on a sandbar?”
“With a very expensive generator and a lot of possible disaster planning.”
Skyler chuckles. “Well, it sets the tone, and the open bars, the kegs, the slip and slide…” She whistles her approval. “You’ve outdone yourself.”
“Just wait until the fireworks show.” Adam smiles, pride radiating off him. It turns me on to see him like this, exuding power and confidence, and I slide up to him, wrapping my arms around his bare torso.
“I agree,” I say, kissing his warm neck. “You knocked it out of the park, babe.”
He swallows, putting his arm around my shoulders, but I feel the hesitant way he does it, and it makes my stomach ache. “Thanks, Cass.”
“I’m going to get a drink,” Skyler says, pointing a thumb over her shoulder. “Want anything, Little?”
“Just a beer for me. And a shot of something fruity, if you’re up for it?”
Skyler scoffs. “Like that’s even a question. Be right back!”
She skips off, and then it’s just me and Adam, and I turn to thread my hands behind his neck and press my lips to his. The kiss is a little too cold and short for my taste, but he keeps his arm around my waist when we break off.
“So… I thought you were going to wear green trunks to match me?” I tease, eyeing his red swim trunks. He has a whistle around his neck and a patch of white sunscreen on his nose, which tells me he went for a lifeguard. “We never do seem to get our Halloween costumes right, do we?”
It’s a joke, referencing the fact that he dressed to match Skyler my freshman year, and then last year, dressed up like Prince Eric as if to make up for it, since I had been Ariel from The Little Mermaid. But of course, I hadn’t worn the same thing twice, and was Cleopatra, with a matching Grayson as my Mark Anthony.
It seems we’re always mixing signals, but here in his arms, I don’t care. I’m just thankful we’ve finally gotten out of our own way to be together.
“Yeah, I didn’t really have time to shop,” he says coldly, shrugging out of my grasp. “I actually need to go check on something at the DJ booth, but I wanted to say hi. I hope you have fun today.”
I swallow, shivering at the cool breeze once he’s no longer holding me. “You say that like I won’t be spending it with you.”
Adam runs a hand through his hair, looking off toward the DJ booth before he looks at me again. Of course, I can’t see his expression under his dark Ray-Bans, but I don’t have to see his eyes to notice the avoidance in them.
“Of course, you will,” he says unconvincingly. “But I’ll be running around a lot, too. I have to make sure everything runs smoothly.”
I nod. “Right.”
Adam takes a step toward the DJ booth, but I reach out for his arm, spinning him in place.
“Adam, what’s going on?”
He sighs, but before he can say anything, I hold up my hand.
“And don’t tell me it’s nothing. You’ve been a class-A prick to me since the night of your concert. I know you got ragged on for spending time with me, and that your fraternity brothers need you around as president. I get that, and I’ve been supporting it. But it’s not fair to be a jerk to me, or to just ignore me completely. Just because you need to be more present at Alpha Sig doesn’t mean I get placed on the back burner.” I frown, stepping into him and wrapping my hands around his forearm. “I’m still your girlfriend.”
Adam chuckles. “Oh, are you?”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“Oh, nothing — except I wasn’t aware that girlfriends lied to their boyfriends about hanging out with their exes.”
The blood drains from my face, but I still hold onto him. “I’m not trying to hide anything from you, Adam. I’ve been trying to talk to you for weeks about it.”
“About what? The fact that you’re hanging out with Grayson behind my back?”
I inhale a hot breath. “Not behind your back. Like I said, I’ve been trying to tell you.”
Adam scoffs, ripping away from my grasp. “Do you hear yourself, Cassie? You’re hanging out with your fucking ex-boyfriend who cheated on you and oh, by the way, also came between us.”
“I’m not hanging out with him, okay? We have a class together, and we’ve been assigned lab partners, and yes, he apologized to me about what happened and I listened, okay? He wants to try to be friends, and I’ve lost so many people in my life…” I swallow. “I just don’t want to write someone off because of past transgressions.”
“He’s in your Genetics class?”
“Yes.”
“And why didn’t you tell me? I picked you up for lunch every fucking day after that class.”
“I’ve been trying to tell you,” I fume. “But you’ve been all caught
up in Alpha Sigma stuff and hellbent on ignoring me.”
“Oh, so now it’s my fault.”
“I don’t even understand why this is a fight,” I say, throwing my hands up.
“You do, Cassie, or you wouldn’t have hidden it.”
“I didn’t hide it.”
“Well, you certainly didn’t tell me outright, did you?”
I know he has a right to be upset — I do, deep down in my gut. But for some reason, I’m defensive, and annoyed, and pissed off that he’s accusing me, and that all this time that I thought he was focusing on his fraternity, he was really just ignoring me for sport. To make a point. To drive that point home.
That is not how a healthy relationship functions.
“Jesus, Adam,” I say, holding my hands out, palms up. “You already won me. Okay? I’m yours. And that’s not changing. But I don’t want to have to hurt someone, either. I know it’s hard to understand but… Grayson is my friend.”
“No.”
“Adam.”
“No,” he says again, shaking his head forcefully. “I’m not okay with that.”
“He’s not a bad guy, okay? I know he fucked up, he hurt me, he was an asshole to you, but he had a lot of shit going on that neither one of us knew about, okay? I mean, would you want someone to judge you in your darkest hour?”
Adam grinds his jaw but doesn’t reply.
“He’s changed,” I continue, voice softer. “And he’s not asking me on a date or hitting on me. He’s asking to be my friend.”
Adam laughs, crossing his arms as he tongues his cheek. “You actually believe the words you’re saying to me right now, don’t you?”
I frown. “You know he even asked about us? He asked how we were doing, Adam. He knows we’re together, and he’s happy for us.”
“Bullshit,” Adam says, his voice high-pitched and desperate as he thrusts his hands toward me. “It’s all bullshit. Are you so blind, Cassie? Of course he asked how we were, because he’s just dying for one little fuck up on my end so he can slip back into your heart, and then into your pants. He doesn’t want to be friends. He wants you back.”
“But I don’t want him,” I yell in return. “I love you, Adam. It’s as simple as that. He is not a threat and you know it.”
Adam’s jaw clenches, and he looks away from me without a response.
My skin prickles with the memory of being in this position before, of having to choose between Adam and Grayson, and my stomach flips violently at the thought of it. I’ve already lost my best friend, and there was still a gaping hole I was convinced would never be filled again.
If I have the chance to fill the hole Grayson left in me, I want to take it — and I don’t understand what I’ve ever done to make Adam second-guess that he can trust me, that I can be friends with another guy without it being a danger to us.
“There was a time he made me choose between you two,” I whisper, crossing my arms over my chest. “Do you remember that?”
I don’t miss the way Adam’s jaw ticks. “How could I forget.”
“Well, then you know why I’m so adamant about this. Making that choice… being in that position…” I swallow, thankful for the sunglasses hiding the tears glossing my eyes. “It killed me. It tore me in half. I swore to myself that I would never do that again. I can’t do that again.”
Adam nods, stepping into my space, and he removes his sunglasses for the first time, showing me the pain in his eyes as he stares down his nose at me. “So, you’ll do it for him, but not for me?”
My next breath is shaky and burns me from the inside, stinging my nose and making my bottom lip quiver. How can he not understand? How can he not see that I can be friends with Grayson and still be in love with him, still be his — completely?
How could he ever ask me to choose, knowing the hell it put me through last time?
I’m not sure how long we stand there, nose to nose, chest to chest, each of us waiting for the other to break. But it doesn’t matter, because neither of us does, and it’s Adam who shakes his head and pulls back.
He slips his sunglasses back on, pausing when he’s a few feet away like he wants to say something, but decides against it. Instead, he takes off toward the DJ booth, speaking into the walkie-talkie that was strapped to his hip, effectively dismissing me and slipping back into president mode.
And I just stand there, watching the muscles of his back as he goes, wondering how we always find ourselves back here, no matter what we do.
MY BEST FRIEND AND I are the most annoyed I’ve ever known us to be.
We are also at petty level one thousand.
But I don’t care.
I don’t care that we’re both grumbling and being catty little bitches as we watch our respective targets from across the sandbar, each of us leaning back in our beach chairs and soaking up the sun as if it could do anything to warm our cold, black hearts in this moment. I don’t care that we’re shit talking about someone we don’t know to make ourselves feel better. I don’t care that we’re making up stories in our head to fill in the blank spots for everything we’re dying to know.
Sometimes you know you’re being a little bitch, and you just can’t stop yourself.
And that’s where we’re at today.
Ashlei’s target? The new intern at Okay, Cool, who looks absolutely stunning in a flapper swimsuit costume, complete with pearls draped around her neck and a feather in her headband. She honestly looks so much like Lei that they could be doppelgängers, which is likely why my bestie wants to strangle her with the pearls around her neck. She looks like her, has her old gig at the agency, and seems to be making quite the impression on their boss — AKA, Ashlei’s boyfriend.
And my target?
The too-hot-to-be-in-college Puerto Rican goddess currently hanging on Kade’s arm.
I don’t even know her name, and I don’t need to. All I know is that Kade is making her laugh, and she’s rubbing all over him, and he’s holding her close, and I can hear his words reverberating like bells in an echo chamber in my mind.
“Might have to pull out all the tricks I’ve learned on some unsuspecting hottie at the Halloween party…”
I grind my teeth together, and then continue my petty party.
“I mean, honestly, who has tits that big in college? They’re like a triple D, and she has a waist the size of a coffee cup.”
“Did you know she has already been put on an event account?” Ashlei responds. “I mean, I had to claw my way to my own account.”
“Sure, she’s gorgeous,” I continue. “But I bet she’s vanilla in bed. He could do better.”
“She’s got this sweet little angel thing going for her at the office,” Ashlei says, shaking her head before she sips on the bright pink straw sticking out of her tumbler. “But I know better. She’s got an agenda, I just don’t know what it is.”
“And besides, I taught him everything he knows. So really, if she’s falling for his lines, she’s falling for me, technically.”
“She’s not even that good at her job.” Another lie from Ashlei.
“Whatever, I don’t care, he’s just a fuck buddy and a free ride, anyway.” Another lie from me.
We both fall silent, sipping our drinks angrily and swimming in our petty pool. After another stretch of me trying to ignore Kade and his “unsuspecting hottie” but always finding myself staring at them again, I stand, ditching my cover up on my chair.
“You know, maybe I’ll go over there just to make him squirm a little.”
“Good idea,” Ashlei says, standing. “I think I’ll go hang out with our perfect little intern, get better acquainted.”
“Not that we care about either of them,” I remind us both.
“No, of course not,” Ashlei agrees, and then we storm off in the sand in opposite directions.
I don’t realize it’s a terrible idea, inserting myself into a situation that clearly makes me itchy, until I’m standing right in front of Kade with a fake s
mile on my lips. He doesn’t even notice me at first, which pisses me off, but luckily, I’m patient, and I stand there next to one of his fraternity brothers, blending in until he sees me.
When he does, one eyebrow arches high up into his hairline, and a stupid smirk spreads on his dumb face. “Hey there, J-Love.”
Hey there? I’m going to murder him.
“Hey, yourself,” I say, still wearing the fake smile. “Nice costume.”
Kade is dressed in bright red, flashy shorts that cut off down past his knees and hug him right under where that deep V cuts from his abdomen to the promise land. Around that waist, he’s got a giant, heavyweight champion belt, and the way it pairs with the tattoos sprawled out over his entire body, he looks like a younger, hotter version of John Cena — if there even is such a thing.
“Thanks,” he says, flexing his biceps, which makes me roll my eyes and wonder why I care that he’s hanging all over someone else.
“I absolutely love yours,” the unfortunately beautiful girl on his arm says, leaning forward to touch one of the curls in my hair without asking. “Pin-up, right? My dad loves pin-ups… he has calendars and posters and old tin containers and all kinds of stuff with pin-ups on them.”
Ashlei, Skyler, Cassie, and I decided the pin-up idea together. My costume is a one-piece, black-and-white striped, with a cut out where my stomach and back are, the top and bottom connected only by scrappy fabric over my ribs and hips. The top has a zipper down the front of the cleavage, too, which is conveniently zipped low right now, boosting up my tits.
“Thanks, sweetie,” I say, smiling at her even though it’s killing me to watch her thread her arm through Kade’s and draw a fingernail up and down his toned forearm. At first, I thought she was clueless, but the way she’s holding onto him and smiling back at me with possession in her eyes tells me she sees me as a threat.
And she should.
I somehow manage to check myself before I can be a bitch, thanks to my feminist side reminding me that I should lift women up, not tear them down — even if I’m jealous of them. But I’m done playing games.
Ritual: A New Adult College Romance (Palm South University Book 5) Page 11
