Redemption (Cambria University #2)

by Sadie T. Williams

  “Hey, Blake.” Bella wraps her claws around his tattooed forearm and begins stroking what looks like a map. I’m intrigued by his tattoos. I wonder if they have meaning, like mine do. He peels her fingers off of his arm and my insides are rejoicing.

  “You’re so hot, baby,” Gemma purrs and pats his tight ass. Is this how it always is for him? No wonder his ego is so inflated and sex appears meaningless. It is readily available to him at every turn.

  “Great game today, bro,” Finn says and holds out his hand. They give each a quick bro hug, but I sense a bit of tension between two that I hadn’t noticed before during class. Maybe because we’re at a party and not in class, but it seems something has shifted in their relationship.

  “Yeah, that was a fucking blast,” Donovan replies casually without taking his eyes off of me. I’m starting to feel the heat spreading through my body, and I hope there are no external signs that I am burning on the inside.

  “You hit that running back fucking hard!” Sims emphasizes the word and holds a fist up to his mouth to cover the “o” shape he made with his lips.

  “He had snot bubbles,” Donovan laughs. I don’t know what that means, but he seems to be proud of it.

  “Are you going to go talk to him?” Millie whispers to me while the boys continue to talk football. “He hasn’t stopped checking you out since he walked in.” Donovan keeps glancing over to me, but hasn’t said anything to me. He’s working the room and making nice with every girl who clamps down on his body. Is he purposely ignoring me to make me want him more? Nuh uh. I’m not falling for that. I shake my head in the negative to her question. As hot as he is, I just can’t let myself fall for someone like him, and I’m not interested in playing games.

  “So, Owl.” He finally turns to me and acknowledges my presence, even though he’s been staring at me on and off for several minutes. Owl. Here we go again.

  “Maisy,” I correct him. I try to force my body’s reaction to him down and hide it somewhere inside where I won’t let it back out. I’m not falling for your games.

  “So, Owl,” he repeats and steps toward where I am sitting on the couch. I roll my eyes and he inches closer so our knees are touching. My skin warms and the feelings rush from the spot where I tried to hide them back through me. One more inch and my legs are forced open by his knee as he steps between them. He towers over me and I imagine he would dominate me in the bedroom. Fuck. I curse internally again. This guy has me all sorts of hot.

  “Wanna dance?” he asks.

  The baseball boys and girls who were talking to me all shoot wary glances at each other and my spidey sense immediately perks up. Finn’s cautionary words echo in my head. Be careful. I close my eyes in an effort to collect my senses. I inhale and exhale a deep breath. I don’t care how weird this must look right now.

  “Uh, I’m good here, but I do have this for you,” I reply as I pulled his jersey from my bag. “I figured you needed it back.”

  His face falls and anger quickly starts to storm in his emerald eyes. “Yeah, I do. Thanks,” he replies. He snatches the jersey from my hand and leaves promptly. I exhale a breath I didn’t realize I was holding.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” Millie elbows me in the thigh.

  “I can’t, Millie. I just can’t. I need reliable, sweet. Not a hot, horny badass that I can’t bring home to mama. I’m not a one-night-stand type of girl.” I’m disappointed in myself that I threw out that figure of speech. It's not like mama, or daddy for that matter, is around to approve. “Plus, I don’t have time. Classes, work, sleep.” I continue to throw out more excuses.

  “But that is so boring. Maybe there’s more to him than what’s on the surface, but even if there isn’t, who cares? One hot night with Blake, shit, that would be so worth it,” she offers. “And you’re not that busy.”

  Maybe she’s right. Or maybe she’s wrong and he’s exactly who he appears to be. A popular asshole who likes to play girls and then move on. Like someone else I know back in California. The image of Bates underneath me in the sand flashes back in my mind. Why do I always attract the bad boys?

  “Let’s go out to the fire,” Bella chirps. “I want you to meet Brynn.” Oh, I’ve already met Brynn.

  “She’s like our fourth amigo. That is how you’d say it in Californian, right?” she continues. I shake my head at the utter stupidity of that statement, but respond simply with “Can’t wait,” and I force out a smile.

  At this point I just want to get out of this house and away from Donovan. He’s an overconfident jerkwad, but he’s doing things to my body that I’ve never felt before.

  Besides, I always loved hanging around the fires we had on the beach, and I need some new friends. I miss Kali. And Monét, Ruby, and Brody. I even miss Bates. I miss the ocean. I just don’t miss the raging storm that was my life on the West Coast.

  Chapter 14: Donovan

  That was an impressive rejection. I fucking asked her to dance in front of a room full of people and she said no. Well, she didn’t say no, but she handed me my jersey back in front of everyone and didn’t answer the question. I can’t say that’s ever happened. I walked away with my tail between my legs while Finn and the boys laughed their asses off. He looked worried for a second when I was standing between her legs. Her golden, toned legs that I want wrapped around my neck while she screams my name. Shake the thought. She is a fucking bet and she embarrassed the hell out of you. Now Finn thinks his tuition is good as paid. Motherfucker.

  I walk to the kitchen where I left Rhodes after I saw Maisy when we walked in and went straight into the beer pong room for my rejection.

  “Shots!” I shout at some kid in the kitchen wearing a polo with a popped collar. I should beat his ass just for that. I’ve hit guys for less.

  I pound four shots of Jack Daniels consecutively. My throat welcomes the burn with each shot.

  “What’s up your ass?” Rhodes asks as I motion to the kid for a refill.

  “That same chick just blew me off. Again.”

  “I think I like her already.” He smirks and tosses back a shot.

  “Seriously, I have never been blown off by a chick. Blown? Yes. Blown off? Never. What the fuck is my problem, man?”

  “Does she know she’s a bet? That can’t help your cause man,” he says with a shrug and looks to a petite blonde dangling from his bicep.

  “If Finn or anyone told her then he automatically loses. He wouldn’t be that stupid.”

  I don’t think he would. But maybe he did and he’s banking on me never finding out. Maybe he told her he’d split the money with her. Fuck! This is driving me insane, and I rake my hands through my hair, a nervous tick I developed as a child. I used to twirl my hair around my both of my pointer fingers. After a few years of therapy, I learned that was my way of controlling something when things felt like they were out of control. I stopped twirling by the time I was twelve, but I still find myself drawn to my hair when I get in certain situations I can’t control. I grab the shot the glass the kid refilled and swallow the brown liquid down.

  “Maybe she’s not into your bad boy image like the rest of the pieces of ass you tap.” Rhodes nods toward the harem of half-naked chicks hovering in the background of our conversation, just waiting for one of us to acknowledge their existence. “Do you know anything about her except her name? Maybe put in some fucking effort,” he says it with a smirk. “You do remember what effort feels like, right?”

  He’s trying to be an ass, but that idea is actually brilliant. She’s different, so I have to be different.

  “You know, Dr. Phil, for having taken so many blows to the head, you’re a fucking genius. A sexy motherfucking genius.” I grab Rhodes’ head with both hands and kiss his orange mohawk. He dyes his hair the color of the opposing team each week. This week was Syracuse, so his hair is a bright orange.

  I walk back toward the living room and feel skinny arms wrap around my waist. I turn back around and it’s Sydney the Screamer. She’s we
aring a sheer nude slip with a black bra and booty shorts underneath. A week ago I would have been all over that shit. We’d be up the stairs in seconds, and if I didn’t find anyone better I’d bring her home with me too. Tonight, I literally feel nothing. My dick doesn’t even twitch at the sight of her huge tits popping out of her bra.

  “Hey, you,” she purrs as she runs her hands underneath my shirt and drags her fingernails down my abs. “Am I on your menu tonight, big boy?”

  “I’m not hungry,” I snap and push her hands down from under my shirt. The thought of Syd throwing her head back and screeching like a banshee is making my dick turn into an innie. I walk away and leave her pouting.

  I walk back into the living room with a new plan and feeling pretty good about it, but Maisy is gone. I walk over to her roommate who is still on the couch with Finn and Sims. “Where did she go?” I ask.

  The roommate stares at me. “Hey, talking to you.” I snap my fingers in the face of the girl staring at me, “Roommate. Where did she go?”

  “Uh, outside. In the backyard. To the bonfire,” she spits out in spurts. Sometimes, my intimidation factor is annoying as fuck.

  I walk out the back door and through the backyard, where someone started a fire in the fire pit. Not really a bonfire, but whatever. Maisy is out there. I can see her white lace dress and black hair are blowing in the September air, and my cock twitches. At least I know he still works. Fuck, she is beautiful.

  She’s sitting with some dudes I’ve seen around, but I don’t remember their names, and some of the jersey chasers, Brynn, Bella, Gemma and Paige. I’ve fucked all them except Gemma. I bet she feels pretty left out, which is why she offers herself up every chance she gets. It boggles my mind that they don’t mind sharing dick.

  “Sup, Blake!” one of the guys says and Maisy’s eyes shoot up from her conversation with Bella. I’ve never seen these catty ass women accept a new one into their clique. I don’t know what to make of that.

  “Great fucking game, man. You’re a fucking beast!” another dude shouts. I have no idea who this guy is, but I’ll take the compliment in front of the lady I’m trying to impress.

  “Thanks, man. Appreciate that,” I reply, still staring at Maisy.

  I take a seat next to the fire so I can watch her, and take a swig of my beer. I’m contemplating how to get her alone. Dinner, maybe. Rhodes is right. I can learn a lot about her if I can get her alone. After about fifteen minutes she stretches and says to the girls, “I think I’m gonna call it a night. It was so great meeting you all.”

  “Samesies!” Bella blurts out and hugs Maisy.

  “Seriously, girl,” Gemma interjects, “Wednesdays we shop. You’re in.”

  “Of course!” Maisy says cheerfully and stands to leave. As she does, I do too, because goddamn it I’m on a timeline here, and I can’t seem to get her alone. She seems to be actively avoiding me.

  “Hey,” I say as I join her on her walk back to the house. The gaggle of jersey chasers she was just talking to are staring right through me. Are they protecting her or are they jealous of her? I can’t tell.

  “Hey, Donovan,” she says calmly. “How are you?” When she calls me Donovan my heart skips a beat. I’m a fucking pussy-whipped puddle right now and I haven’t done shit with this chick yet. I need to remind myself of the end goal.

  “I’m fine, great now actually,” I reply and flash her a toothy smile. “So listen,” I begin but she cuts me off.

  “Just so you know, I’m not interested in dating and I’m not interested in being a one-night stand. I’m just not interested. I can’t be,” she blurts out.

  What. The. Fuck. I’m going to kill Finn if he told her about the bet. Or maybe my reputation has preceded me. This is the first time in my life I wish I wasn’t Donovan Blake. The first time I’m not pleased with the image I’ve built here.

  “Why do you assume I was going to ask you out?” I lie. I totally was, but now I’m scrambling. Grasping at anything to get me back on track. I run my hand through my hair. I need to get back in control.

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” she stutters. “I just thought, you know, after the jersey today and the texts asking me to come to your game. I don’t know. I’ve been asked out a few times tonight and I just assumed. You’re not my type, and, well, I’m really sorry. Now, I feel stupid.”

  “No worries, Owl. It’s okay,” I reply. Not her type? What the actual fuck am I supposed to do with that? “You do look beautiful, by the way, but I’m not going to ask you out. I don’t date.” Part of that is true. She’s beautiful and I don’t date, but I had every intention of asking her on a date anyway.

  “So, what did you need then? And are you ever gonna tell me why you call me Owl?” she asks just as we approach the house. I need a plan B. What the shit is my plan B?

  “I need a tutor,” I blurt out while ignoring the other half of her question. I have no idea how this idea popped into my head in my drunken state, but I applaud myself for it. She did get an A on her assessment, and the thought crossed my mind in class once. This request won’t seem like that much of a stretch. “I saw you got an A on our assessment. I failed, miserably. If I don’t pass the midterm I’ll be suspended from the team. We have to keep a certain GPA all semester to be eligible and midterm grades can fuck me.”

  “I really don’t know.” She pauses right before she reaches for the doorknob.

  “I can pay you. Or,” I pause. “Well, I’ll do anything. Whatever you want.” Loaded question. I wish she wanted to jump on my dick like every other chick on this campus, but she doesn’t. Everyone needs something though. I just need to figure out what it is she needs.

  She freezes. Maybe she does need the money. “Let me think about it. I got a job at Holy Sip!, I have a full load of classes and I need to maintain my own GPA for my scholarship.”

  She’s on scholarship. Noted.

  “Okay, I’ll give you until class on Monday to decide.” Dad taught me to always set a deadline. Don’t let offers hang out in the universe without an expiration.

  “A deadline. Really? You’re always telling me what to do,” she laughs and the sound tickles my ears and my groin.

  I shrug and give her my best innocent smile. I would offer to drive her home or grab a bite to eat, but I’ve been drinking and I think it would be best if I backed off for now. I know it’s time to walk away before I say something to ruin this. I got her thinking about it. That’s good enough for now.

  “I tell everyone what to do, Owl, and you have no idea just how bossy I can be. See you Monday.” This is going to be the longest thirty-six hours of my life.

  I walk back out to the fire as Maisy goes back into the house. I want to follow her, but I know I shouldn’t. As I sit back down one of the ass-clowns is mouthing off about Maisy. He’s talking about her legs being wrapped around his face, shaking his head back and forth rapidly with his tongue hanging out like a dog. It makes my blood boil, but I try to remain calm. I don’t want these pricks to know she’s important to me. That will only fuel their fire.

  “Hey, Blake? Are you tapping that hot ass?” another dude calls out to me as he watches his buddy lick the space between is index and middle fingers.

  “Nah.” I shrug to show my indifference, but my fire has been lit. One wrong word and these fuckers are dead.

  “Mind if I give it a go? That looks like a tight fucking pussy,” he says and starts laughing at his own disgusting existence. Not that I wouldn’t have said something similar, but I have a strong urge to protect her from assholes like this guy.

  “For fuck’s sake, Adam, shut up before Blake beats your ass,” the one guy who complimented my game chips in.

  “What the fuck ever, Trevor,” Adam rhymes unintentionally. “Blake can have any other piece of ass at this school. He doesn’t care about me banging one slut.” As soon the word leaves his mouth I’m on him. I may be tipsy from the shots, but I’m ridiculously strong and athletic, and very coordinated, so even in my inebriated state
this motherfucker doesn’t stand a chance.

  I first connect my right fist with his left jaw and the force knocks him out of his chair onto the grass. I pounce on top of him like a lion on a baby gazelle. I pin him on his back and just start throwing blow after blow into his smug face. I can hear the girls screaming in horror and some of guys shouting at me to stop, but I don’t. Blood is flying with every swing and each time my knuckles connect with his face, I feel the crack on the bone and my body explodes with adrenaline. I’m downright rabid.

  “Blake! Fucking stop!” I hear Rhodes and then I feel his shoulder hit my ribs as he tackles me to the ground and off of Adam.

  “What the fuck as gotten into you, man?” he asks I shove him off of me. We both stand, out of breath for a second before we walk back over to where Adam is laying in a crumpled, bloodied mess. A few guys are crouched beside him.

  “Motherfucker! Don’t you ever fucking talk about her again. Ever.” I point and spit at him before I walk away. Rhodes follows me back into the house as everyone who gathered around the fight parts like the Red Sea. They want nothing to do with me right now.

  “Seriously, bro. What that fuck did that scrawny drunk piece of shit do to deserve that ass-whooping? You know I’m all for it if he deserved it, but shit, man. You beat him senseless.”

  “He called Maisy a slut,” I reply matter-of-factly and check out my busted knuckles and blood-spattered shirt. Good thing it’s black. Only the pocket shows the red splatter.

  “You call chicks sluts all the time.” He raises his eyebrow to me in question.

  “It’s different,” is all I offer as I stand in the kitchen pouring three more shots and slamming them all. This chick is fucking with my sanity.