by L A Cotton
“Braiden?”
“What? Shit, sorry. Hmm, yeah, the guy. Who is he? Friend? Boyfriend?” I tried to cover up my moment of madness, but she saw right through it. I could tell from the slight smirk tugging at her lips.
“Just a friend. Well, that wasn’t awkward at all. Okay, last question. How’d you get the scar?”
My heart slammed against my ribcage. She had to go there—had to fucking remind me who I was. Where I’d been. Just when I thought that maybe we could hang out. Talk.
Who am I kidding?
She was in college, studying to make something of her life, and I was … well, I didn’t know what the fuck I was, but it wasn’t this. Pretending to be someone I wasn’t just to impress a girl.
I didn’t need this shit.
“I’m out.” I rose from the bench and started walking.
“That’s how it is, huh? Shit gets real and you bail?” Cara yelled, but her words rolled off me. “Like some fucking coward? I thought you were different. That maybe, just maybe, we were the same. My bad. Have a nice life, Braiden Kelly. And stay the hell out of my park.”
I didn’t look back.
I’d been right. She was running from something—we both were. But it didn’t matter. I was screwed up enough all on my own; I didn’t need someone else’s problems to deal with.
Chapter Eight
The following night, I didn’t return to the stadium. Instead, I watched ESPN and drank beer pretending that everything was fine. That I wasn’t bored out of my skull in Forest Grove. Luke had texted a couple of times to check in, but he didn’t say anything about things back in Astoria, and there had been no word from his grandpa, Jack. Which left me all alone with my thoughts—a dangerous thing. All the bad shit rose to the surface, fighting its way to the top. Dad, Jackson, Briony, O’Connor.
Her.
My head was a mess, which was why when dusk rolled around again, I opted to get some fresh air instead of suffocating within the four walls of the unfamiliar apartment. As soon as my feet hit the sidewalk, I felt the pull toward the stadium, but I veered right following the direction to downtown.
As I passed the campus, I fought the urge to search the students coming and going. I needed a strong drink and maybe even someone to take my mind off things. Back in college, when things got too much to handle, it was nothing a party and a blowjob from a hot girl couldn’t solve.
It wasn’t until I entered The Grove ‘n’ Grill that I realized my mistake. It was Saturday and the place was teeming with students. Loud chatter filled the whole room as I pushed my way to the bar. I cast a quick downward glance at my clothes—jeans and a dark sweater—to make sure I didn’t look too out of place.
Fucking pussy.
When I reached the bar, the bartender flicked his chin at me ignoring the rest of the queue. A pang of something shot through me—a distant memory of what it felt like to be respected, noticed.
“Beer. Corona, if you have it.”
He nodded and I turned narrowing my eyes at a couple of punks looking in my direction. They quickly averted their eyes elsewhere leaving me with alone with my beer.
“Not from around here?” the bartender asked, dropping my check into a small dish.
Was it that fucking obvious? I wasn’t wearing a neon sign. I kept myself to myself and tried my hardest to blend.
“I’m just passing through.”
“Heard that before, my man.” He moved on to the next customer, and I turned my back to the bar, facing out to the crowd.
The Grove was one long room with a pool table and jukebox in an area off to the side. The place had a student vibe, a bit like Dante’s—the bar we’d hung out at back in Chastity Falls. One wall housed a handful of rectangular booths, probably used for diners during the day, but now the tables were used as a place to leave drinks while students chatted and partied with their friends.
I fought my way through the crush to claim the last empty booth. Guys moved swiftly out of my way and girls’ eyes lingered a little too long in my direction, but it felt good. Adrenaline pumped through me, and I stood a little taller. For the first time since my release, I felt like my old self. No one knew me here. They didn’t know the things I’d done. Where I’d been. I was just a guy in a bar getting a drink. A guy that girls wanted and guys feared.
Not even five minutes after I slid into the leather booth, a voice purred, “Is this seat taken?”
A leggy brunette batted her eyes at me, leaning over the table slightly to give me a perfect view of her tits. I shuffled easing some of the strain in my jeans. It had been a long time. Too fucking long. My eyes made slow work of appraising her body. Tight and toned, the dress hugging her figure left little to the imagination, and I was ready to invite her to join me when my eyes caught a blur of blond over her shoulder.
Cara was talking to the same group of friends I’d seen her with at the track. Her hair looked different, loose curls framing her face as she smiled widely at the guy friend. Jealousy burned through me.
“So is it taken?” The brunette licked her bottom lip and arched her brow suggestively.
“How about a drink?” I said earning a smile from her. Her hand slipped inside mine as I stood and led us in the direction of the bar. The bartender noticed me perched at a quieter end of the bar and came straight over. “Same, my man?”
“Sure thing and a …” I turned to the brunette and tipped my head indicating she should order.
“A vodka cooler, please.” Her hand glided down my stomach to my thigh, her fingers splaying out enough to catch my dick sending sparks flying through my body. She kept her eyes on the bartender who was busy getting our drinks.
“Enjoy.” The bartender placed the beer and vodka down in front of us, but I got the feeling he was referring to something other than the drinks.
“Thanks.” I pulled out my wallet and paid.
“I’m Macie.” The brunette turned to face me, dipping her mouth to the straw and taking a long suck.
“Braiden.” My eyes flickered away, searching the room until they found her. Cara was still surrounded by her friends laughing and chatting.
“So do you go to Pacific? I don’t think I’ve seen you around.”
I pulled a stool close and sat down, kicking one leg out in front of me and resting my other foot on the metal bar strengthening the stool legs. Macie maneuvered herself between my legs. She was forward; I had to give her that. Something I would have liked at one time.
“No, I’m in town apartment sitting for a friend.”
Her eyes lit up and her hand hovered over my thigh as if she was seeking my permission to touch me. I didn’t respond, but she took it as a yes, laying her palm against my jeans.
“So you have your own place?”
I tracked Cara’s movements as she and her friends moved to the small dancefloor. Guys watched them with hunger in their eyes, but one guy stood out. He was alone, pressed up against the wall, eyes trained right on her. Something about him felt off. He looked like all the other guys in here, but the way he looked at her kicked my senses into high alert.
“Hey.” Macie’s hand slid up to my face, demanding my attention. “Want to get out of here?” Lust swirled with desire in her hooded eyes.
“Let’s finish our drinks first,” I said flatly. Rejection flashed across her face, but she quickly replaced it with a smile. “Sure. Besides, I want to see if you can dance.”
We drank in silence. I watched Cara—watched the guy watching Cara—while Macie swayed her body, pressing herself as close as possible. When my beer emptied, I ordered another, and still, the guy stood in his position watching her.
Cara eventually noticed him, and I expected her to lose her cool like she had at the track when the guy friend called her over. As she made her way over to him, I sat forward slightly ready to intervene if necessary. What the fuck am I doing? But when she reached him, she smiled and slapped him on the chest like they were old friends. He responded by enveloping her in his a
rms and spinning her around. Once she was back on solid ground, they started chatting and laughing.
Fuck this shit. Snapping my eyes back to Macie, I said, “Let’s get out of here.”
She nodded eagerly as I stood and yanked her toward the exit.
We caught a cab back to the apartment. Macie was a little firecracker behind closed doors, and as soon as we’d entered the apartment, she wasted no time pulling me to her and ramming her tongue down my throat.
And I let her.
Maybe she could rid my head of the short blonde who had gotten so far under my skin that I felt like a schoolboy with his first crush. It wasn’t as if I asked for it—she just wormed her way in. But it was obvious she had other guys in her life. The guy friend. The creep at the bar. She was drama with a capital D and I didn’t want in. Besides, I would be out of here in no time.
My hands drifted down Macie’s waist until they slid over her ass and behind her thighs. In one swift motion, I hoisted her up forcing her legs to wrap around my waist. Remembering how good it felt to be in control, to have a girl wrapped around my body. A giggle spilled from her into my mouth, and she broke away breathing raggedly. “You need to wrap up.”
Was this chick for real? Girls at CFA were always so eager to give it up to me, but they knew me. Knew what my name stood for. They’d heard the rumors and wanted a piece of the action, wanted to be able to say they’d scored with the infamous Braiden Donohue. But I wasn’t looking for a relationship—too much pretty college pussy for that.
But this chick? She didn’t know shit about me. Yet here she was, willing to give it up to me. So why the hell wasn’t I feeling it?
You know why.
“Bedroom … where’s the bedroom?” She moaned into my mouth, grinding on me like a bitch in heat.
I pulled away from her forcing her to look at me. “Listen, I’m not sure-”
Macie shook her head slowly, hopping down out of my arms, she slid the straps of her dress off her shoulders and inched it down over her tits. Black lace stared back at me and my dick twitched. She was hot, no denying that. But there was just one problem … she wasn’t blond.
“You were saying?” The dress pooled at her feet and she stepped out of the material standing before me in nothing but her bra and barely-there panties.
I dragged my thumb across my lip appraising her body. My dick wanted her; the bulge in my pants was a testament to that. And it would be so easy to just fuck her, but something held me back … Or someone.
Macie stepped forward and reached out for me, her hand hooking around my shoulder. She used her other hand to guide one of my hands to her waist. The feel of her skin almost made me come right there in my pants. I dropped my head to her shoulder and inhaled, pulling her closer. Her body responded and she moaned softly. Fuck. I couldn’t believe I was about to do this. She was right there for the taking, and I was going to stop play. Am I fucking mad?
“Listen,” I whispered against her skin. “You should go.”
“What?” She shrugged me off and wrapped her arms around herself. “I thought we had something going.”
“Close the door on your way out.”
I was a bastard, but there was no point in sugarcoating it. I didn’t want to chat or cuddle; I wanted her gone.
“Fucking jerk,” she hissed as she pulled her dress back on. I turned away from her and moved to the kitchenette to fetch a beer. Heels clicked against the floor and then the door slammed. Alone once more, I downed the beer and hit the shower.
Cold shower.
Chapter Nine
“What the …” My hand fumbled to the side of me, searching for the incessant vibrating. “Hello?”
“Don’t tell me I woke you? It’s past nine.”
“It’s not like I have anything to do in this fucking place.”
Luke laughed down the line. “Get up, slacker. You need to keep yourself fit. Go for a run. Hit the gym. Anything.”
“Fuck off.” I groaned and rolled onto my back trying to force my eyes open. Light seeped into the room through the blinds.
“Hang on; Briony wants to talk to you.”
Another groan surfaced.
“So how is it?”
“The same as when we spoke the last time, B.”
“You should listen to Luke. Get out for a run or something, it will do you good.”
“I’m not sick, B. I’m bored. This place is full of students and old people. What am I supposed to do? Join the local knitting group?”
“No, Luke, wait, yes, okay, fine. I said fine, Luke,” Briony snapped down the line and I rolled my eyes. It was too fucking early to be in the middle of another one of their arguments. “Braiden, Luke wants to talk to you. I’ll text you, okay? Bye.”
“You there?”
“No.” I scrubbed my free hand over my face before sitting up and kicking my legs over the side of the bed.
“She’s just worried about you, give her some slack.”
“I don’t need her mothering me. I need space. She’s suffocating me.”
“I heard that,” Briony shrieked.
“Nice, man. Now, I have to deal with that.”
“Did you call me for a reason or just to check in on me? Because if there’s nothing important you need to say, I’m out.”
“Wait. My grandpa will be in touch later. Keep your cell with you, okay?”
Apparently, Briony was right; Jack Doyle was Luke’s puppet master.
“Could have just text.”
“What can I say? I like hearing your voice. Now, get up, lazy motherfucker.” Luke hung up and I returned the cell phone to the nightstand.
So much for giving me time. Briony was becoming a royal pain in the ass. I wasn’t in college anymore. I didn’t need her babying me like some punk ass kid. After four years inside, you learned to look out for yourself because let’s face it, no one else was going to.
After taking a piss and showering, I pulled on some sweatpants and a hoodie. Maybe my sister and Luke had a point; perhaps exercise would do me good. Lucky for me, Luke had given me some sneakers. I slipped them on, grabbed the keys, and hit the sidewalk.
Beads of sweat trickled down my face as my feet pounded the asphalt, but the cool air offered some light relief. The town was already awake. Shop signs read ‘open’ and people went about their business, not giving a second thought to the guy in the dark hoodie jogging past them, trying to chase away his demons.
My route took me around the perimeter of the campus and up to Lincoln Park where I did a couple of laps before circling back down the other side of campus along Sunset Drive. I knew the street looped around student housing, but I couldn’t help myself. Blondie was so far under my skin; she was like a fucking disease.
I slowed my pace as the red brick buildings came into view. I didn’t expect to see her, not really, so my eyes almost bugged out of my head when I spotted Cara exiting the glass doors with the creep from the bar hot on her heels. Not wanting to be seen, I ducked behind some bushes to watch her. She looked pissed as she marched down the path. The guy yelled something, but Cara didn’t stop, so he picked up his pace breaking into a jog.
Cara spun around, and with her hands firmly on her hips, she glared at him before unleashing her short temper on him. The guy obviously knew it was coming; he threw his hands up in defense, attempting to pacify her, but it didn’t work. Like at the bar, something about their exchange bothered me. They were obviously more than acquaintances, but it felt more personal than just friends. The same jealousy I’d experienced watching them at The Grove burned through me, and when he reached out to touch her, my fists clenched at my side.
‘Get off me,’ I thought I saw her yell, all up in his face, as much as someone standing around five inches shorter than her adversary could. But the guy didn’t back down. He grabbed her arm and held Cara in place, forcing her to listen to him. Her eyes widened with something. Fear? Alarm? It was enough for me. I broke my cover and jogged over to where they stood. Ca
ra noticed me straight away, surprise registering in her features.
“You need to back off.” I angled myself to face the guy, ignoring Cara for now.
“And who the fuck are you?” The dude’s eyes narrowed, but his grip on Cara remained. My eyes flickered to where his hand curled around her arm and back to his face. “You need to let go of her, now.”
“Bra-”
“You know this dick?” The guy addressed Cara, and I felt her tense beside me. Something must have passed between them because he released her and dropped his hands to his side.
“You should stay out of things that don’t concern you. I’ll catch you later, Cara.”
His warning rolled off me, and I didn’t take my eyes off him until he disappeared back inside the building.
“What the hell was that?” she hissed, and I turned to Cara and frowned. She was pissed at me? “I had it under control, Braiden. You shouldn’t have done that. Shit.”
Unfamiliar emotions rushed through me, and I didn’t know what to say. So I shook my head, drove my hands in my pockets, and started walking.
“Wait, Braiden, just wait,” she called after me, and I stopped. What the hell was it about her that had me so confused?
“I’m sorry, okay.” She stepped around me and smiled up at me. “Thanks, for what you did. Jason gets a little carried away sometimes.” Her eyes moved past me, and I wondered if he was watching us.
“He your guy?”
Green eyes snapped back to mine. “Who? Jason? No. No! It isn’t like that. Listen, I can’t talk now, but later? Our spot?”
Our spot? Why was that like music to my fucking ears?
“Eight?”
“Eight.” Cara nodded and headed back to her building, while I stood there, in the middle of the campus like some pussy-whipped punk, wondering what the hell had just happened.
When eight o’clock finally rolled around, I was ready to combust, and as if the short blonde wasn’t enough to contend with, Jack Doyle hadn’t called me like he was supposed to. So much for being their secret weapon—apparently, I was so important that no one thought to keep me in the fucking loop.
