by Hannah Gray
At least I found Dr. Taloosa when I moved to Massachusetts. I was able to find a therapist who I could actually connect with. She doesn’t judge. She doesn’t use that voice. You know, the one therapists use. They talk out their nose and shut their eyes during half of the conversation. She talks normal. Sort of like we’re old friends. She has been a godsend, and I have only been seeing her for a month. But in that month, she has taught me so many tools to help with my nerves.
The professor must dismiss us because everyone begins throwing their stuff together before shuffling to the door. I realize I have missed the past twenty minutes of the lecture.
“Earth to Sunshine,” Trent’s deep voice speaks low as he leans his head against mine.
“What?” I ask, still dazed from letting my mind drift off.
“You’ve been staring at the same spot on the wall for twenty minutes. You’ve hardly even blinked,” he says nonchalantly while leaning back in his seat.
“I was just thinking of all of my classes. Oh crap.” I look around, noticing this room has completely cleared out. “I have another class in”—I pull out my phone—“fifteen minutes. I need to go.” With haste and escape on my mind, I gather up my things, stuffing them all into my messenger bag. I leave out my class schedule and the map of the campus because I still don’t know my way around.
Trent grabs my schedule.
“Hey! What are you doing?” I whine.
He grins. “Your next class is on the way to my next class. I’ll show you the way. What are friends for?”
We make our way out the door and across the campus.
“Why are you being so nice to me? What’s your motive?” I side-glance him suspiciously.
“I don’t have a motive.” We walk for a few more moments in silence before he says, “Honestly, Sunshine? I don’t know what the fuck I am doing. But I just know whatever it is, I want to.”
“Umm, I appreciate it. It’s just …”
He comes to a stop in front of a building. I look up, seeing it’s the building my next class is held in. I look at the time. Six minutes to spare.
Green eyes watch me softly. “It’s just what, Cameran?”
“Everyone on this campus knows your name. They love you. Every one of them wants a piece of you. For God’s sake, just on the short walk here, how many waves and stares did you get? That’s not me. I don’t like attention; I prefer the shadows.”
He leans against the building, crossing his arms over his chest. Sexy, angry tattoos on full display. “How do you know that’s me?” His deep voice sends vibrations throughout my body. Making my head fuzzy and my legs feel weak.
“What do you mean?” I manage to breathe out.
“How do you know I want all of this?” He signals around to the surrounding campus. “Because, to be honest, there are some days that I wish I could make all of it go away. It’s a lot of pressure.”
“Poor, beloved quarterback has too many fans.” I chuckle and pull my messenger bag up on my shoulder higher.
He releases a frustrated sigh. “Forget I said anything. You wouldn’t understand.”
He seems genuinely bothered.
“Hey, look, sorry. I don’t know what it’s like. So, I wouldn’t understand.”
“No big deal. You’d better get to class. That’s the professor about to walk in.” He nods toward an older man making his way down the sidewalk toward us.
I nod and head toward the door.
I’m almost in when I hear his rough voice call out, “Oh, and, Sunshine?”
“Yeah?”
He kicks off of the building and struts my way, stopping a few feet directly in front of me. “You couldn’t be in the shadows even if you wanted to.” He winks and walks away.
Holy mother of balls. How can someone have so much swagger? The guy oozes confidence—in a good way.
As I make my way to an empty seat, I notice all eyes are on me. Watching me carefully. Clearly curious about the connection between someone like me and the one and only Trent Kade.
One thing is for sure; if I am going to be friends with Trent, it’s going to bring a lot of unwanted attention to me. But for some reason, in this moment in time, I don’t want to run away from it. And that, in and of itself, is terrifying.
six
Cameran
It’s Thursday afternoon when Anna leaps off the bed and looks in her mirror before applying yet another layer of lip gloss. “Let’s go get food. I’m starving,” she whines.
I’m sure I’m going to get shit from her for this answer. “Well, I was going to read up on the chapters for my class, so I can be ahead.”
She gives me a look and crosses her arms over her chest, popping one hip out. I know that look; she’s not having my lame excuses. Besides, I’m already getting out of going to the first football game this weekend because she has to drive somewhere to meet her sister. Part of me was relieved when she told me, though a small part of me wanted to go just to see Trent in his uniform.
“All right, all right, reading can wait till after food.”
“Good, because classes just started on Monday. We don’t need to already be overstressing our fine asses.”
I guess she has a point. School isn’t just something I am good at. I take it seriously. One day, it’s going to be my escape from this shitty life. Okay, that’s not fair. It’s not that shitty anymore. I have a full scholarship to an amazing school, a roof over my head, and a new friend, who I already adore.
Silver linings, Cam, silver linings.
I throw on my red Chucks and a hoodie that says Not a Hugger with a picture of a cactus on it. Quickly running my hands through my hair, I gather it up into a ponytail before taking a glimpse in the mirror. Presentable enough for me.
“Ugh, I hate how you can just look good. You could roll out of bed and look gorgeous. It’s not even fair.” Anna pokes her bottom lip out, trying to appear mad.
My eyebrows lift with absolute confusion. “Um, Anna, have you looked in the mirror lately? You’re like Lucy Hale but with red hair and edgier.”
“I kind of want to kiss you right now. I love Lucy Hale. And thanks, but I feel like I have to have my hair and makeup done in order to garner any attention from the opposite sex. You’re just naturally beautiful.” She applies a little more mascara and then turns to me. “You ready? Pizza or burgers?”
“Pizza, Anna, always pizza.”
Trent
Antonio’s is packed when Mason, Lane, a few of the guys from the team, and I walk in. As soon as we enter the restaurant, everyone looks up from their food and openly gawks at us.
The manager—an overweight, middle-aged man with black hair and glasses—rushes out. “Boys, want a booth or a table?”
“Booth,” we all say in unison.
Mason steps closer to him. “Preferably something in a corner—you know, away from the vultures.”
The man looks around, noticing everyone watching us, and nods. “Right this way, boys.”
He leads us to a table in the back corner. It’s the perfect setup because while it’s hidden from everyone seeing us, we can still see the whole dining room. Plus, it’s dimly lit, giving us a bit more privacy. After we order a shit-ton of food and briefly discuss this weekend’s upcoming game, I pull out my phone and begin scrolling through Instagram.
Lane suddenly elbows me. “Holy fuck, I just got a little hard.”
I ignore him. Not in the mood tonight to chase skirts.
The guys toss their usual comments back and forth.
“Hot. Damn. You can have the blonde. Let me have that redhead. She looks like a fucking snack. Actually, they both do. Holy fuck.” Lane whistles.
At the mention of red hair, I remember Cameran’s roommate, and my head snaps up. “Shut the fuck up, both of you,” I bark.
“Come on, Trent. You don’t get to keep all of them for yourself,” Lane argues. “Go check out the bar. I’m sure you can find one over there you like the looks of.”
; I clench my jaw. Trying not to go apeshit on my friends for a girl I barely know. “I said, shut. The. Fuck. Up.” I narrow my eyes at Lane. “Have at it with Red, but don’t even look at Cameran.”
Realization hits Lane’s eyes, and his lips turn up into a grin. “So, you are on a first-name basis with this chick.”
“We’re friends. Drop it. It’s not a big deal. She just doesn’t need you fuckers hitting on her. At the party at the fraternity house, she’s the one who the douche bag was getting too pushy with.”
“That’s the girl from the fraternity party, man? Now, I see why you got involved,” he says while his eyes rake over every inch of Cameran.
“Leave it the fuck alone. Now,” I practically growl. I’ll be fucked if I sit here and listen to them make light of the situation.
After a dozen more jabs from around the table, the guys all decide it’s best to drop the Cameran talk and leave me alone. Thank fuck for that because I can only clench my jaw and ball my fist up for so long before I flip the fuck out.
The guys move on, talking about some of our new plays and how brutal practices have been. I welcome the distraction. Anything to get these fuckers to not talk about my girl.
As our food gets delivered, I try to be discreet on watching her. I don’t want these assholes catching me and calling me a pussy or some shit. I look over every few minutes when I think they aren’t paying attention. She’s got a pizza of her own that looks to have everything but the kitchen sink on it and a Coke. She’s adorable, laughing at whatever her friend is saying.
Now, I’m saying shit like adorable. What the fuck is going on with me?
I look at Mason to see him watching me. His eyebrows rise slightly as he leans forward in his chair and nods his chin. I know Mase enough to know he’s trying to figure out my deal with this girl. I shrug and finish my beer. I don’t know why I’m staring at her. That’s not something I usually do. I fuck girls; that’s just what I do. I usually can’t even stand to kiss them on the lips; that shit’s too personal. I don’t get interested, and I sure as fuck don’t get involved long-term. So, why in the world would it bother me that these guys are checking her out?
The waitress brings our tab, and I know we’re going to have to walk by them in a few minutes when we leave. I pick up the tab because it was my idea to go out to dinner. Besides, ol’ Daddy’s funds can pay for it. If I have to be stuck with the fucker, might as well use his money.
As we’re approaching their table, I take her in. Holy shit, I swear she’s more beautiful each time I see her. Her hair is in a ponytail, and I’d love to get a fistful of it while she was in my bed. I doubt she’s got an ounce of makeup on, yet she is the hottest girl in this place. Hands down. I laugh to myself about her sweatshirt with the cactus on it. I think it cracks me up because I feel the same way—no hugging here.
“Hey, friend,” I drawl and tip my chin up at her.
She looks up from her conversation with Red. She smiles slightly at the sight of me, and even though she’s trying to play it cool, I can tell I make her nervous. “Hey there. I told you I was considering it. Did you go ahead and give yourself the job?”
“Job?” Red says, looking between us, narrowing her eyes.
“I told Cameran here that I could be a damn good friend. I think she’s playing hard to get.”
Red folds her arms over her chest and tilts her head to the side. This girl has an attitude that surely lives up to the hype about redheads. “Hey, this girl is my best friend, so find your own.”
That’s when Mason makes his entrance into the conversation. “Best friends get to see each other naked. So, what do you say, Red? Want to be best friends for a few hours?”
She gives him a disgusted look. “That sounds like I would rather slide down sandpaper with no panties on,” she deadpans.
“You want to come over for a bit and watch a movie then? We’ll be supervised, so I won’t be able to seduce you. Though,” he says, signaling a hand by his face and body, “I’m sure you’ll be trying to seduce me, sweetheart.”
“Vomit. Pass,” Red answers as soon as he gets the words out.
“Mason’s just kidding. He thinks he’s a hotshot. I promise he’ll leave you alone if you guys come over for a few hours.” I heard myself saying it, but I can’t even believe I just invited girls over to watch a movie. No promise of a fuck or a blow job. I can say, no chick coming home with me has ever watched a movie or TV at my house.
Red looks at Cameran and shrugs. “Up to you. After the last party and what you dealt with, this is your call.”
Cameran chews her bottom lip for a few seconds while I openly watch, jeans growing tighter by the second. “Um, sure. We’ll just follow you there so that we have a car.”
We head to my truck and say good-bye to the other guys. Then, the three of us pull out with Red’s Jeep Wrangler close behind. I still can’t believe I asked a chick to come over and watch a movie.
I glance over at Lane, who is grinning like a damn fool.
“What the fuck are you smiling about?” I growl.
He holds his hands up. “Me? Nothing, nothing at all. Enjoy your movie night.” His eyes are still filled with humor.
He’s never seen me invite a chick over for a movie.
“Fuck off,” I growl out.
Mason pipes in from the back, “Stay away from Red, Lane. She’s all mine. I hope I can get her naked tonight.”
I chuckle because after a few times of meeting Red, I know that isn’t likely. And I can’t say I am not going to enjoy the shit out of Mason having to work for it.
seven
Cameran
I can’t believe I agreed to go to Trent’s house to watch a movie. This is what happens. I get blindsided by guys who are inevitably going to be assholes or psychopaths. But I can’t help myself, and I all but melt into a puddle anytime Trent Kade so much as looks at me. That type of hotness shouldn’t even be legal. Holy hell.
We pull into a house off campus—a pretty big house, considering they are all students.
Anna whistles. “Jeez, a little more spacious than our dorm, huh? Someone’s parents must be loaded. No wonder he paid for our dinner,” she says while gazing up at the house as she climbs out of the driver’s side.
I nod and open my door. Stepping out, I look at the house. It’s a modern, new, two-story house, dark gray with white trim. It’s actually beautiful.
“Sweet house you got yourselves,” Anna says as we reach the guys.
Mason nods. “You know it. Trent hooked us up. Pays to have rich friends,” he says with a grin.
I have to admit, despite being slightly slimy, he is gorgeous too. With his dark brown hair and blue eyes, he’s almost as tall as Trent is; I’d say about six-two. He looks something like a Greek god, sharp jaw and all.
Lane and Mason seem to be more of jokers, class clowns. They don’t act like they take anything seriously. They both have those charismatic personalities. Hell, all three of them do. But Trent acts more serious. He doesn’t talk much if he doesn’t have something to say. He’s … mysterious. And I have to say, it’s a turn-on.
We follow close behind them on the rock walkway that leads to the front door. As we all file into the house, I look around. It’s clean and masculine while also still being cozy. Not what I would expect their house to look like inside.
Mason walks over to the refrigerator. “You ladies want a drink? We’ve got some fruity chick drinks here from our last get-together if you want one. I know chicks get excited about their fruity alcohol.”
Anna nods. “Sure. Just one though. I’ve got to drive us home.”
Mason looks at me. “Yo, Cam, is it? I’ll grab one for you.”
I look at what he’s holding up, and my face must twist in disgust of some sort because Mason frowns.
“Or not. You seem like you don’t want one. Your face is very telling, by the way.”
I don’t want to be rude or overstep, but a drink would be nice to help me relax.
“Do you have any beer? I’d love a beer.”
I mean, they are college guys. Of course they have beer.
Lane whistles. “A girl who drinks beer? I think I’m in love.”
I don’t miss the growl that Trent lets out and the glare he shoots in Lane’s direction. Trent walks over to the fridge and grabs two beers. He opens them and hands one to me before taking a long swig off of his own. He makes his way to the living room, which has a freaking huge flat screen TV on the wall.
“What do you ladies want to watch? A romantic comedy? Thriller, action, maybe some porn?” he says wryly.
My eyes get big while Anna rolls hers.
He looks up and lets out a low chuckle. “That would be a joke.”
He gives me the smallest smile, showing a slight dimple in his left cheek, and I’ll be damned if my panties didn’t just catch on fire and melt.
I spot 21 Jump Street—always a favorite of mine. I go over, pick it up, and hold it out.
“Good choice,” he says. “Can’t go wrong with this one.”
“Or Channing Tatum.” Anna giggles.
I pretend to fan myself because, come on, homegirl’s got a point. Although I’m not sure if Channing Tatum has anything on these three guys. Then, I think to myself of how many other women must want them. And how much attention it would bring, being friends with guys like these. Um, yeah … not into that. I like to fly under the radar. I prefer to be invisible. If you’re invisible, you don’t attract the wrong types of people.
I hear Trent’s voice and realize he’s sitting right next to me, so close that we could touch arms or legs if I scooted two inches.
“If you keep chewing that lip of yours, I won’t be able to concentrate on this movie.” His voice is low and gravelly, only for me to hear, the wavelengths sending electric pulses all through my body.
I say a silent prayer that he can’t hear my heart beating wildly in my chest. I side-glance the tattoo on his arm. It’s too dim in here to make it out. I never knew I was into tattoos, but surprise, surprise, I guess I am. Literally everything about this guy just screams sex appeal. He’s like a walking poster board for what every girl finds hot, including myself.
