Holding on to Forever

by Davis, Siobhan

  But the Bears, football, school, and everything else vanish as I rush into my dorm room ten minutes later. The room reeks of booze as I inhale second-hand alcohol fumes.

  I take in the sight of Emily, and my fucking heart disintegrates, knowing I’m the one who has helped do this to her.

  She’s curled up on my bed, wiggling her arms and legs about, as if she’s dancing horizontally. Her gorgeous strawberry blond waves are a mess around her face. Her bare legs are tanned and toned beneath her tiny white shorts. I can’t help but let my gaze roam wild and free until my eyes land on her tits poking out of a clingy top.

  Sam vaults off his desk chair. “It took you long enough.” He’s whispering.

  Emily is in her own little world, half in and half out of reality, until the door click shuts.

  She sits up, looks our way and waves. Then, as if she looked right through us, she flops down on the bed, smiling to herself while gazing at the ceiling, as if it’s the most fascinating thing.

  Her voice is pretty as she softly starts singing “Somewhere Over the Rainbow.”

  Sam and I exchange a sad look.

  What the fuck happened to her to cause her to turn to drugs and booze? Who would willingly do this? And how often does she indulge? Zach is one of my best clients, and he buys regularly. I’ve long suspected he’s supplying the girls, because Scar and Emily rarely buy directly from me, and this confirms it.

  “She’s been singing that over and over again,” Sam says. “She’s also asking for Wrangler. Who’s that? And what is going on?”

  My blood turns to ice at the mention of my street name. Sam can’t know what I’ve been doing every night coming in late. He’s a cool guy and leaves my business to me. But I’m not sure how long I can keep lying to him.

  My body is frozen solid until Emily levels me with those big blue eyes that always suck me in. Now, my legs are moving until I’m kneeling in front of her.

  Tears cascade down her cheeks as she reaches out to touch me. The minute her clammy fingers land on my face, my heart falls out of my chest.

  Sam comes closer. “We need to do something.”

  The only thing we can do is let her come down off her high, and no fucking way she’s leaving until then, especially with the guys in the dorm. The last thing the three of us need is for anyone to know she’s here. Sam can’t afford to get in the middle of my shit or Emily’s. He’s got his future all mapped out with his plans to start his own tech company. He’s dead set on moving to Silicon Valley and becoming the next Steve Jobs.

  “Did anyone see you come in?” The question is aimed at Emily, but it’s Sam who answers.

  “The whole dorm probably did.”

  No doubt. The guys would notice a beautiful girl walking the halls. I suspect some of them know who Emily is too, and that makes my pulse stop for a beat.

  Emily giggles then cries. “Wes didn’t see me. He doesn’t live...” Her angelic voice trails off.

  I grit my teeth. “Did Wes do something to you?” I emit a low growl. The need to find the fuckwad and beat him to a pulp is strong.

  I steal a glance at Sam. He’s sweating, and his blue eyes are drenched in fear.

  “T-the Molly is gone.” Emily slurs her words, and it’s clear she’s drunk. If she’s mixed it with drugs, she’s in a bad way, but I doubt I’ll get anything coherent out of her in this state. “I need more.”

  “Sam, can you get a wet washcloth?” I ask in a calm voice even though I’m trying like hell to keep my shit together.

  She’s worse off than I thought, and panic swirls in my gut. I can’t see straight. I’m not sure I can even breathe. I’ve seen addicts strung out on street corners and in dark alleys, but to see someone I know go down this path is heart-wrenching.

  And I’m pissed at myself.

  Ray is right.

  The world of drugs is different now.

  Maybe it’s because I’m older, wiser, and an adult. But I care what I’m putting into people.

  When I worked for Donnie, I was a novice and too young to care.

  “She’s on Molly?” Sam’s voice rises in pitch as he threads shaky fingers through his blond hair.

  I shrug, because I honestly don’t know. She said the Molly was gone, but there’s no way of knowing when she last took it. Sam’s been a great friend, and he doesn’t deserve to be treated like he means nothing to me. But I can’t bring myself to tell him the truth. Not yet anyway, and Emily is my first priority right now.

  “Washcloth, Sam,” I repeat, more harshly than I meant to.

  He nods as he rushes out of the room.

  I climb up on my bed, leaning my back against the wall. As if we’ve done this a thousand times, Emily snuggles up to me. I drape my arm around her, rubbing my hand up and down her arm. Her skin is piping hot, and her hair is sticky with sweat as I rest my chin on her head. Alcohol fumes cling to her clothes and her sweat-slickened skin, and I wonder what could’ve happened to send her into such a dark pit.

  “Talk to me,” I say softly. I want to know how much Molly she took and when. How much booze she drank. I want to know if Wes touched her. I want to know why my heart is all over the fucking place and my cock is growing in my jeans. I want to take away her demons, but I know I’m partly to blame for her state of mind. Guilt jumps up and bites me, and I’m so fucking conflicted.

  I think of calling Zach, but he’ll only enable her more.

  Emily buries her face in my chest. “You feel nice,” she says rubbing her hands up and down my sides. “And you smell nice,” she adds, inhaling deeply.

  Oh, man. If she was sober, and I believed she was telling the truth, she’d be under me with my mouth molded to hers right now.

  But she’s not, and I don’t.

  You feel like somewhere over that rainbow where I imagine it’s a blissful place devoid of drugs, and parties, and sickness.

  She starts running her fingers across my abs, and my stomach is doing cartwheels. Meanwhile, my cock is painfully hard, and straining noticeably against the zipper of my jeans. When her hand lands on my belt, I suck in a sharp breath.

  She lifts her head, and her eyes are dilated as she searches my face.

  The need to kiss her, to touch her, is so fucking strong, but I’m not one of those guys who takes advantage of a girl when she’s down.

  I kiss her on the forehead as I remove her hand to her side. “Rest, babe. You need to sleep.” I’m not letting her leave until she’s more coherent. I can’t let anyone see her leaving either.

  It’s not because I don’t want her to leave.

  Or because I want to hold her in my arms and take care of her.

  The best thing is for her to stay put I convince myself. But fuck it. I’m working tonight, and Ray will hunt me down if I don’t show.

  Emily sighs one last time as her body deflates against mine.

  Sam returns with a washcloth, handing it to me. “She’s going to be okay, right?”

  I have no fucking idea. But I’m going to make it my mission to ensure she is.

  Emily starts to breath deeply.

  “She’s sleeping,” Sam confirms, sinking into his desk chair, his blue eyes appraising.

  Silence fills the room.

  I could stay like this all night, but I need to make a phone call. Carefully, I lift her off me, setting her down flat on the bed and adjusting her head so it’s on my pillow, before covering her with a light sheet. A sheen of sweat still clings to her brow, and she’s hot to the touch, so I don’t want to tuck her under the covers even if my nurturing instinct is screaming at me to do just that.

  I climb off the bed, and Emily lets out a soft mewl.

  “She can’t stay,” Sam murmurs. “Her mother runs this campus.” Panic is evident on Sam’s face.

  I pace the room. He’s right. But until the entire building is sound asleep and Emily is in a better state of mind, she isn’t leaving.

  “She came here thinking a guy by the name of Wrangler lived in th
is room.” Sam leans his elbow on his knees. “Something about needing to buy Molly from the guy.”

  I shut my eyes briefly, staving off the nausea in my stomach. I can’t tell Sam. He’d be so disappointed to know Wrangler is me. That I’m the one who did this to Emily.

  “I need to make a call.” I start for the door. Fresh outside air is necessary to quench the burn from the acid in my throat.

  Sam pops up. “Wait. You can’t leave.” His voice is low.

  “I’m not, man. I’ll be back in five minutes. I don’t want to wake her.”

  I want to crawl into bed with her. I want to fuck her until the sun comes up, but I mentally slap myself out of my lustful thoughts, because she needs something different from me tonight.

  Sam meets me at the door. “I need to tell you something. Emily came to me last week and asked for my help.”

  I jump back a step. “What the fuck? What kind of help?” Worry floods my veins.

  And why Sam? Why not me? I’m not jealous. I’m curious. Usually when an addict wants help, they want drugs.

  “She asked me to do some investigative work on Weston Blakely. I turned her down.” He glances at Emily who is sound asleep. “What’s that all about? She mentioned him earlier. Do you think he’s supplying her with drugs?”

  I claw my hands through my hair, yanking it in the process, and the stinging pain quells the urge to put my fist through the wall. “No idea, man. No idea. But I intend to find out.” I intend to erase Weston Blakely from Emily’s life until he’s nothing more than a bad memory.

  10

  Emily

  A familiar dark cloud hovers over my head as I slowly come to. My tongue is glued to the roof of my mouth, and it tastes like something died in there. I search through my mind trying to remember what happened last night.

  The bed dips behind me, and an arm tightens around my waist. I stiffen, opening my eyes more fully, and take in my surroundings. I’m on the outside of a stranger’s bed, looking at another twin bed across the way. The covers are neatly made, and I can’t tell if anyone slept there. Posters hanging over the bed confirm whoever lives here is into computer games.

  “Hey.” A gruff voice says at my back, and bile travels up my throat. I wrack my brain for some clue as to where I am, but it’s a complete blank. It’s not surprising. Most times after partying hard, I can’t remember a fucking thing about where I was, who I was with, what I took, or who I screwed.

  The usual self-loathing washes over me, and I wriggle against the hard, warm body at my back, trying to get free. “Let me go.”

  The arm is gone almost instantly, and I stumble out of the bed, falling flat on my ass. I tilt my chin up, gulping nervously, until my gaze locks on emerald-green eyes I’m familiar with.

  “Adam?” I glance around me, noticing the layout. “Fuck.” I rub a hand across my chest. “Please tell me I’m not in one of the male dorms.”

  “Yeah. About that.” His shirt is wrinkled as he sits up, yawning while dragging a hand through his dark hair. It’s sticking up in all directions, and with the five o’clock shadow lining his chin and cheeks and the adorable lopsided smile on his face, he looks utterly delectable.

  And completely fuckable.

  Thank hell, I’ve come down from my high, or I’d probably have tackled him by now. A worrisome thought flits through my mind. “Oh my God.” I clamp a hand over my mouth, my eyes popping wide. “Please tell me we didn’t fuck.”

  His brows knit together. “We didn’t. Because I’d never take advantage of any girl in your condition, but it’s not good that you don’t remember.” His frown deepens. “And I’m kind of hurt you think that’d be such a terrible thing.”

  “I… It… I.” I stop babbling, taking a moment to collect myself. “I have zero recollection of what happened last night, but that’s not uncommon.” I drag my lower lip between my teeth, fighting a blush. “And I don’t think that. Only that it might’ve happened and I hadn’t remembered.”

  His lips curl into a smile, almost fading straightaway. “Does that happen a lot? That you wake up and can’t remember anything?”

  I shrug, accepting his hand and letting him pull me to my feet. He pats the spot on the edge of the bed beside him and I sit down, noticing my attire for the first time. “What the hell am I wearing?” I tug at the hem of the unfamiliar T-shirt, which barely covers my ass.

  “You puked all over the place last night. I snuck you into the showers while Sam replaced the bedcovers.” He waves his hand at the shirt I’m wearing. “That’s all I had to give you.”

  “Ugh.” I bury my head in my hands. “I’m sorry,” I whisper.

  “It’s okay.” He takes my hands away, and delicious tingles zip up and down my arms at the contact. “Neither of us will say anything.”

  “Where is Sam?” I only discovered they were roomies when I stole onto Mom’s home computer to find out which dorm Adam lived in.

  “He went to class.”

  “Shit. I’ve missed class?” Mom is going to flip out. Not coming home and skipping class is a big no-no.

  “We both have, but don’t worry. Sam said he’d cover our asses.”

  “How?”

  “He’ll hack into the school system and amend our attendance records so no one is any the wiser.”

  “Wow. I knew he had mad skills, but that’s insane.”

  “He doesn’t normally do stuff like that,” Adam admits, and his voice is strained. “I might’ve had to bribe him to do it.”

  “I bet he thinks I’m a bad influence, and he already thinks I’m a weirdo.”

  “Because you asked him to spy on Wes or some other reason I don’t know about?”

  “If you mean have I pulled a stunt like this on Sam before, the answer is no. I try not to get high during the week.”

  “So, what happened last night?” His soft tone matches the look on his face.

  “Since the fiasco at the fundraiser, my parents have had me on lockdown.”

  Understanding dawns on him. “I heard you and Zach got into trouble, but what do you mean by lockdown?”

  “I’m forbidden from hanging out with Zach, and I’ve been grounded from partying for a while.”

  His eyes splay wide. “Aren’t you a sophomore?” I nod. “Then how the hell can your parents demand that of you?”

  “I still live with them. Unfortunately.” I sit on my hands to disguise the slight tremors taking hold of me.

  “Coach is strict with us, but I never imagined he’d be that strict on his own daughter.” He leans back on his hands.

  “To be fair, it’s more my mom. I embarrassed her.”

  He bolts upright. “The way I heard it, Wes was out of line, and Zach was only coming to your defense.”

  My jaw drops. “Who told you that?” I don’t think Zach would’ve shared what happened with Adam. Certainly not Wes. And the only reason I’m surprised is because Adam heard correctly, which is unusual, because the rumor mill never gets the story straight.

  He bites down on his plump lip and it’s sexy as fuck. “I told you I didn’t want you anywhere near that asshole and I said it for a reason. Asshole’s got a rep around campus among the guys. I’ve heard rumors. He’s not a good guy.” His tone is reserved, but worry and irritation sit idly underneath.

  I want to tell Adam he doesn’t own me and he can’t tell me what to do. My parents think they have that right too.

  But I like he’s worried about me.

  That he seems to want to protect me.

  It’s been far too long since I’ve had that warm feeling of someone caring about me. Dad is still all over the place. One minute, he’s sticking up for me, and the next, he’s siding with Mother Dearest.

  And Mom?

  Well, she’s consistent in how she feels about me.

  I snort. “Yeah, tell me about it.”

  His eyes narrow, and he reaches out, taking my hand. I lower my gaze, marveling at how swamped my hand looks in his large one. Thanks to my
height, I’ve always felt gangly and awkward around guys, but Adam makes me feel small and feminine, and I like that feeling a lot.

  “Are you going to explain that?”

  I yank my hand back, wrapping my arms around my torso, trying to hide the bruises compliments of Wes and his disgusting crew. The movement causes the shirt to lift a little, flashing the edge of my panties. His eyes dart to my crotch for a split second before he jerks his head up. Thank fuck he didn’t remove those last night. I’d die of mortification if I’d just flashed him my bare pussy.

  I drop my hands to my sides. “I already explained. Wes is trying to date me, and he won’t take no for an answer.”

  “It’s that last part I’m afraid of.” He cups my face, forcing my gaze to his. “You can tell me. I’m trustworthy. I promise.”

  “Why?” I whisper.

  “Why am I trustworthy?” His face creases in confusion.

  I shake my head, and warmth floods my cheek from his large palm. “Why do you want me to tell you?” I don’t find it easy opening up, and I don’t allow many people to get close. Even when my therapist in rehab tried to peel my layers back, I fought her tooth and nail. But Adam isn’t my therapist. He’s a sexy as fuck guy, staring at me like he wants to take away all the bad in my life.

  I wish he could. But no one holds that much power.

  I can’t help but get lost in his beautiful green eyes framed by the longest lashes. They are thick, and jet-black, and I’ve a mad case of lash envy. With his strong nose, chiseled jawline, thick dark hair, and tan skin, he can definitely rock the cover of GQ. And that’s before I mention his lick-worthy abs and the impressive snake in his pants. A snake that is growing in size the longer we stare at one another.

  My mouth is parched, and I lick my lips subconsciously while my libido sluggishly wakes up. My nipples stand to attention, and I’m sure they’re trying to poke their way out of his shirt. He may have left my panties on, but I’m one hundred percent not wearing a bra. The thought he might have caught a sneaky look at the girls sends warmth flooding to my core.

  His eyes drift to my mouth before lowering farther, and my nipples could cut glass, they’re so sharp.