Give You Up (Dumas University Book 1)

by Ashlyn Mathews

  “I’m fine watching from your place. Anyway, it’ll be crazy afterward. Lots of cars. Lots of people. I’ll lose my way.”

  “Lose your way? Fuck sakes, I’ll be there holding your hand every step of the way, B.”

  “You won’t always be there. I won’t always be there for you, Dare.”

  There. I finally voiced what’s been bothering me for the past three weeks. With as much time as Taron is spending at my place, we might as well be living together, and I like it so much, waking up and going to bed with him.

  “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

  “Dare, you have a life apart from me. Had one before I showed up.”

  “That’s family you’re speaking of, and you are now a part of it. You’re my family, B.”

  “Taron’s a big part of my life now.”

  “That so?”

  “Yes.” I set the popcorn on the coffee table and shift in my seat. “I care for you, but I care for him more.”

  “Am I your best friend?”

  “Yes.”

  “Am I your guy?”

  “We already agreed that you don’t have those kinds of feelings for me.”

  “Because you have them for Taron?”

  “Yes.” I look at him in confusion. “Dare, what point are you trying to make? The shot is messing with my mind.” I’m not a lightweight, but I already had two shots earlier.

  “I’m your best friend. You’re like a sister to me. We can be all things to one another without taking away from what you are to Taron. You’re his girl, B. I see the way he looks at you. Any guy come near you and he will fuck them up. I come near you and he isn’t looking at me the same way. That is a secure man, Syn. He knows where you and I stand with one another.”

  Dare is so right. God, he has his moments, and this moment . . . Taron’s first home game at his home away from home and I am sitting on my duff blocks away from the stadium when I should be there cheering on my guy.

  I rise, and grabbing Dare’s arms, I pull him up off the couch. Whooping and hollering, he gets us an Uber to the game.

  “That’s my girl. Now let’s go show the world who the star QB belongs to.”

  35

  Syn

  We made it in time for Beau’s opening speech. From our spot on the bottom bleachers, right behind the team, I watch proudly as Beau talks about sportsmanship and how sports bring us together for a common goal—a connection, a commonality.

  “He’s good,” Dare says near my ear at the end of Beau’s speech. The clapping and hollering are loud.

  Beau’s speech is so inspiring, I am starting to have a change of mind about football. I look around. The excitement is so palpable, I can taste it.

  “I can see why Taron loves the game, and the reason Beau encourages kids to take up sports. The excitement is contagious.”

  “No joke.” Dare grins from ear to ear, also taking in the crowd’s excitement. “I read somewhere he has a camp for kids. That’s cool. Beau is a cool dude.”

  I find it interesting that Beau’s camp coincides with my spring break. Year after year, he asks me to be a part of it, but I have always declined, associating football with Taron. Now, watching Taron lop a hell of a long throw that is caught by Andy and he takes the ball in for DU’s first touchdown, I plan on telling Beau I am in if he still wants me.

  The custody battle with Lola is getting ugly. It’s been all over TMZ and the other tabloid sites. We decided I would go incognito for our daughter-father time before he leaves for a business trip tomorrow morning.

  The crowd cheers. DU scored another touchdown. I stick my hands in the air and whoop and holler with the crowd. Taron and his teammates are celebrating at the end zone. He breaks away from his teammates, runs on over, and seeing me, he kisses his index and middle fingers and points directly at me.

  Oh my gosh, he did not just declare me as his girl. I should be mortified. Freaked out that my well-constructed drama-free life will be anything but after this game is through. Except I’m not. I am in my own personal heaven. Am flying high in the clouds.

  Am even more so when he jogs over, takes off his helmet, and after handing it to Dare, he holds my face tenderly in his palms and kisses me so ardently, the crowd oohs and claps, shouting their encouragement.

  They are encouraging him rather than questioning why a clean-cut guy is kissing a tatted and pierced girl with short hair. We come up for air. He caresses a finger down my jaw, grasps my chin between his fingers, and plants another kiss on my mouth.

  “Best surprise, Syn. Thank you, babe, for being here.”

  “Thank Dare. This is his doing.”

  “Giving credit where credit is due. So my girl.”

  He rewards me with another kiss before he turns and thanks Dare.

  “You’re family now, man. No ifs, ands, or buts about it, Taron.” Dare hands Taron his helmet.

  They fist bump and do this explosion thing with their fingers. Shaking my head, I smile. These guys of mine.

  The rest of the game plays out just like that. Taron scores. After he celebrates with his teammates, he kisses his fingers, points at me, then runs on over and kisses me. Each kiss is hotter and lasts longer than the previous ones. Our kisses give the defense time to get onto the field. And with each touchdown and kiss, the crowd chants louder for DU to score another touchdown.

  The crowd is so loud, they drown out the opposing QB’s calls. Penalties are doled out. The crowd, encouraged by their whooping and hollering, whoop and holler louder. Laughing, I cover my ears. Our defense sacks their QB. I stick my arms in the air and shake my hips, doing a victory dance.

  “Woo-hoo!” My voice rises above the crowds. Taron turns around, and holding on to the front of his jersey, looking sexy as sin, he shoots me a lopsided grin. My heart stutters in my chest. My guy is happy. I’m happy.

  We’re winning our first game.

  Beau is up in the press box with the dean. I feel his eyes on me. On Taron. Feel his approval like the heated rays of sunshine on my face.

  Soon, we’ll find the guy who hurt Natalie.

  For now, my mom’s and Beau’s secrets are safe.

  What can possibly go wrong?

  36

  Taron

  “Hey, man, you and Syn an item? Or you getting in on the action with her and Dare? Will she be up for a threesome with any of us guys, or does she reserve her body for the ones who have the money to pay up?”

  I am an inch from socking Booker’s face. Instead, I clamp my hand on his shoulder and squeeze hard enough for him to visibly wince.

  “She’s off limits, man.”

  “Aren’t you paying her?”

  This guy is not getting the message. I decide to toy with him. There is nothing else to do to pass the time with these jerks. I am not here for playing video games. I’m here to make certain I nab a scumbag, making certain he never hurts a girl again.

  “What am I paying her for exactly?” I let go of Booker’s shoulder and cross my arms.

  The guys stop helping Dare set up consoles and monitors and listen in on our convo.

  “To go where you go. To keep you in line. You in line will help us win games.”

  Verbatim. Damn.

  “Have you seen Syn on the sidelines keeping me in line?”

  “Nah, bruh.”

  “Did you see her going where I go when we partied hard last night, sipping from the well of hot girls with smoking-hot bodies?”

  “Nah, man. Those girls were all over your ass.” Admiration and respect in his words.

  “That’s right, but I didn’t partake in the action, did I?”

  “Why the fuck not?”

  “’Cause Syn is it for me. She doesn’t need to go where I go or keep me in line. She trusts me. And us winning games isn’t about me or her. It’s about us. You guys brought your A-game. Played at your top notch. Killed it for each other because we have one another’s backs. That’s how we play and how we win. You hearing me?”

 
; “Fuck yeah,” came from all around.

  “Cool. Now let’s beta test Dare’s baby, then jump in the pool to cool off. Four against four. Winning team gets the chance to party at Blaise Lexington’s estate on bye week.”

  “No shit?” Will asks.

  I am pegging him as our number-one suspect. The guy wreaks of pent-up anger. What’s he got to be so angry for? He has a beautiful girlfriend and is aiming to go far with his record as the best blocker in the division DU is in. Which begs the question, why would any of these guys get tatted with Syn’s crew’s symbol of friendship? It doesn’t make sense.

  “None, man,” I answer Will. “Blaise and Syn are friends.”

  “Hey, she’s my friend too,” Dare says. “But yeah, she’s more Syn’s friend than mine. Other than her bodyguards and her cousins, Blaise doesn’t trust men.”

  “Does that mean she likes pussy?”

  Fuck, Simon is crass.

  “What Blaise likes or doesn’t like is none of your business. Just be polite, thank her for hosting your sorry asses with an open bar and a five-course meal, and be done with it.”

  “Holy cow, I am winning this.” Booker plops his ass on the couch. Grabs a controller. We count off from one to four. Laughing, Dare and me flip one another the bird.

  We are on opposing teams, and I aim to win.

  “Ready, mother-effers?”

  Controller in hand, we nod, waiting for Dare to lay down the rules of the game.

  “See the big egg on the screen?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Yes.”

  “Dude, that is fucking crazy. A golden egg kind of like from the nursery rhyme.”

  “What the hell is a nursery rhyme? Why we discussing babies and shit?”

  I lose track of who is saying what. I am concentrating on that egg. Seeing it, I think about Sydney. Damn, my little sister is having a baby.

  “Inside that golden egg is a golden child. Goal of the game is to deliver the kid to his mother, the princess. She has the power to ‘hatch’ the prince. Fail and the world freefalls into chaos. Win and the princess and her kingdom are yours to rule over.”

  “Pfft. Who wants a video game princess when we can get a girl IRL?”

  In real life. I shake my head. Speak in sentences, for fuck’s sake.

  “It’s a beta, dude. IRL, there’s a purse of a million dollars.”

  “Easy.” Booker takes a long draw of his beer, followed by a shot. If he doesn’t slow down, he is going to lose my team the game.

  Dare laughs. “Then you don’t know me very well. Last game I created and rolled out, it took a team five years to win the purse. Five fucking years.”

  “Why’d it take so long?”

  I roll my eyes. Seriously, I rolled my eyes. Booker is something else. I fill him in.

  “Dare designs his games in layers. Win one layer and move on to the next. Each layer builds on the next, getting more difficult to beat. You do the math. Five years is because there are so many layers to get through, like peeling a gigantic onion.”

  Booker blows out a breath. “Fuck.”

  “No worries,” Dare says. “We’re only testing three layers. That’s all it takes to be jetted off to Blaise’s place for a slamming good time. The girls she brings in for us guys are fucking hot.”

  At the mention of girls, I check out Will’s reaction. Would he cheat on his girlfriend for easy tail? Is he capable of drugging and raping a girl? Again, what would be his reason for getting the snake and butterfly tat? Rhett had a messed-up reason, but a reason no less.

  What if the attack had nothing to do with Natalie but everything to do with Syn? When I found Natalie in my bed, she reminded me of Syn, with her slender, petit build and long blonde hair. Did the dickwad hurt Natalie because in his mind, she could be Syn?

  Fuck me.

  What if we’ve been going down the wrong path this whole time?

  The game starts, and I return my attention to winning. The sooner my team beats Dare’s, the sooner we can jump in that pool. And then I can get my answer. Or not.

  Foreboding crushes my chest.

  This insane thought surfaces.

  The attack on Natalie isn’t a random attack but a message.

  He is coming for Syn next.

  Who the fuck is he?

  It could be anyone.

  Any of Syn’s random hookups.

  Shit.

  Shit.

  Shit.

  I won’t let any harm come to her.

  I wasn’t there for her four years ago, but I am here now, goddammit, and I won’t be going anywhere. Not until I know she is safe.

  37

  Syn

  Shades has never been this full and this loud. It’s filled to overcapacity, and Midnight follows the rules for a change and turns people away at the door.

  It is Saturday night. DU won their second game, another home game. I went to that game, too, and cheered on my guy and my football team.

  Thank goodness none of the six who went to Dare’s party have the snake and butterfly tat. Except there’s a guy out there who believes it’s okay to hurt a girl and that he’ll get away with it again.

  I won’t let that happen. After the pool party, Taron and I regrouped back at my place.

  Taron filled me in, and then we decided to get Midnight and Dare’s help. There was no need involving Riley. She’d help in a heartbeat even with having to spend more time with Midnight, but the same old guy who got sick is going through rough times again, and it’s important we let her have her time with him.

  Riley doesn’t go into detail, but from the pictures she shows me of the two of them, it’s obvious he is her grandfather. Goodness sakes, where is her mother in all this? Riley shouldn’t be left to care for her dying grandfather.

  “Syn, order’s up.”

  Benny bellowing over the noise yanks me out of my thoughts. I’ve been zoning for minutes from the stares I am getting. I am waiting on a booth full of girls my age. They peer down their noses at me, their gazes stuck on my half-sleeves, then move up to my face. One of them flicks her long, thick blonde strands over her shoulder and huffs, as though wondering what Taron sees in me.

  Well, he won’t be seeing anything other than my friendly smile. I paste one on. He is making headway with his teammates. Is getting invited to more parties than ever before. I suggested we clone him. Taron is a social butterfly, and I am a couch potato.

  Bugs and vegetables do not mix unless, of course, he would like to eat me out. Heading for Benny and the tray of shots, I groan. Dare’s crassness is rubbing off on me.

  I flit from table to table, delivering drinks and food. Midnight did take Hunter’s idea into consideration and changed up the menu. Finger foods but not too messy. My favorite is the Irish Nachos. Yummy.

  Speaking of Hunter, he has been sending me apologetic texts and lines and lines of kissing emojis and crying emojis. What do I do with his apologies? I want nothing to do with him or Rhett, and went so far as to block his number when he called me.

  Blocking him does not stop Hunter from approaching me in the back kitchen. Finally, I’ve had enough and accept his apology. Before I can stop him, he pulls me in for a hug.

  “Thanks, Syn. You won’t regret this.”

  “I already do.”

  “Syn, babe.” He tips my face up with his finger under my chin. “I’ll be the better guy for you. I promise.”

  “Geez, that’s what you said when I told you about our baby.”

  “I mean it this time.”

  I untangle out of his arms. “It’s over, Hunter. I’m with Taron now.”

  I didn’t tell Taron about the texts. Again, he is making headway, and we’re making progress in our relationship. Why upset the balance of things? I walk out of the kitchen with my head held high and my shoulders pulled back.

  Hopefully, Hunter got my message loud and clear. On my way to clearing off a table, large hands reach for me. Muscular arms press into my hips. I glance dow
n into Taron’s smiling face.

  “Hey, baby. Been missing you all week.”

  It’s been a week since we’ve seen one another. He hasn’t been coming over, instead sending me texts from whichever party he is at. Or hanging out and playing video games with the guys. Or getting in tutoring time with this beautiful brunette. Taron is in demand, and I give him space to shine. To be included in all things Dumas. Maybe then there is a good chance he’ll stick around town after graduation.

  Wishful thinking and a topic that hangs in the air between us. We try to enjoy the here and now, but still, the uncertainty of a future together looms large the more the days and weeks pass without us broaching that sensitive topic.

  I also didn’t tell Taron I missed my period.

  “I missed you too. I have a break in ten minutes.”

  “Come sit with us.”

  “Midnight—”

  “Owes me for the jump in business.”

  I concede. It cannot be that uncomfortable and awkward sitting with his teammates and a table full of other girls when my guy and my best friend are at the table too.

  When it’s break time, I sit at Taron’s table. Dare slides a shot over to me from across the table. I am sitting on Taron’s lap. Not exactly where I would like to be with the girls glaring at me.

  Curled up on the couch, reading a steamy romance book, is more my pace on a Saturday night. Or having a low-key night binging-watching Netflix shows or going dancing with my friends if one or all of us are having a bad day or week.

  But sitting on his lap like I’m a pet is not my ideal date night. I slide my shot glass back over to Dare. He raises a brow. I tell him I’m not in the mood.

  “How about I put you in the mood?”

  “Taron.”

  “It’s just a kiss, Syn. Hell, we kissed in front of a stadium of people.”

  True.

  Again, I concede, and I am hating myself for it. This isn’t me. I detest PDAs. Would rather keep what goes on between us behind closed doors.

  Except when he tenderly cradles my face and brings my face near, everyone disappears. The conversations around us fade to nothing. All I feel is him. His mouth pressed on my lips. Side to side. Warm. Wet when he coaxes my mouth open and slides his tongue inside.