Ray extends his hand to Sam before I can say a word. “Hi, I’m Ray Diaz, a friend of his.” Ray flicks his chin at me.
Sam shakes Ray’s hand. “Sam Spencer.”
“Got to run,” Ray says. “We’ll be in touch. Remember what I said.”
As soon as the SUV pulls away from the curb, my blood thaws a tiny bit.
Now to face Sam and his thousand questions. I don’t want to lie to him. But I don’t want to have this conversation right now either.
“How do you know a guy like that?” Sam asks, suspicion threading through his tone. “He’s shady as fuck. Are you in trouble, Adam?”
I can’t look him in the face, and I won’t lie to him. I’m not sure I can stay in the dorm room tonight.
I start for the building when Sam grabs my arm. “Dude, answer me.”
“I don’t want to get you in the middle of this.” That’s the truth. The last thing I need is to worry about my roomie, someone I consider a brother. “Can we talk about this later?” I give one of my pleading looks that usually work on Mom and might work on Sam. “I promise I’ll tell you, but I’m beat, my head is throbbing, and I want to talk to Emily.”
He scans my face, studying me like he can read right through me. “I’ll give you some space, but I’m here for you. You know that.”
I clutch his shoulder. “And that’s why I love ya, dude.” There’s a door to hell with my name on it. A huge fucking knot forms in my stomach, and I just pray that when I finally tell Sam he’ll understand.
Right now, I need to hear my girl’s voice. I need her to calm me down because I’m finding she’s the only one who can.
* * *
Where the fuck is she? I can’t get ahold of Emily, and it’s driving me fucking insane. I want to pull out every hair on my head. I’m standing in the locker room at Greenville College, staring at my phone, feeling an almost uncontrollable urge to throw it at the wall.
This week sucked balls. Ray’s watching my every move. When I visited some clients, one of Ray’s goons shadowed me. Clearly, Ray doesn’t trust me now. And that makes me nervous. Fucker.
Coach rode the team hard, keeping us late at practice every night. This game with Greenville is huge. If we win, we could get an invitation to a bowl game.
Gnawing on the inside of my cheek, I lace up my cleats while the team gets dressed. I need to get my fucked-up head in the game. If I only knew Emily was okay, I might be able to think clearly.
Carter slaps me on the back. “Hoss, what’s wrong. Is Phoebe okay? Were you able to talk to your mom?”
On the bus ride up, I filled Carter in about Phoebe. I wanted to tell him I haven’t been able to get a hold of Emily and it was driving me bonkers, but it was too risky with Coach sitting only seats in front of us and the guys all around us.
Maybe she has cold feet. Maybe she changed her mind about coming out about us to her dad. Maybe she’s feeling like she told me she loved me too soon. Or... Nah, I don’t want to think that she fell off the wagon. My heart sputters at that thought. But I shake it off. Wes is securely in jail and not around to mess with her.
Wes isn’t the only one to drive Emily to drugs, dude.
Ah, fuck. Maybe she got into a fight with her mother.
Then something hits me. I should call Zach. He might have heard from Emily. That thought drives a knife into my chest only because when I think of Zach I think of him fucking my girl in that video, and I want to spill his blood.
Carter snaps his fingers in my ear. “Adam. Your phone is ringing.”
I shoot up and fumble with the locker door.
Carter mumbles something under his breath that I can’t make out. Right now, I really don’t give a shit anyway. But I know I need to focus. I can’t let the guys down. I can’t let Coach down. If I do, he probably won’t let me date Emily.
I finally have my phone in hand, and Sam’s name appears on the screen. Déjà vu blankets me. Something is wrong. Sam knows I’m about to play. He wouldn’t call unless it was an emergency. Suddenly, I’m taking a road trip back to early September when he came running down the track to tell me Phoebe was in the hospital.
“Everything okay, man? I have maybe five minutes at most,” I rush out in a huff. “My sister okay?” I went home mid-week to see Phoebe for a quick visit. As sick as she’s feeling, she still had a smile on her face, especially when she asked about Emily.
“Sorry,” Sam says in a dire tone. “I thought you wouldn’t pick up. I was going to leave you a voicemail. Look, we need to have a serious talk when you get back.”
He knows about Ray.
I should’ve known Sam would do some digging on Ray. After all, Ray introduced himself to Sam.
I bang my head against the locker door. “Sure thing.” I have no other words, and I don’t want to talk about it now or rather I can’t, not with Carter listening and the rest of the team in proximity. Plus, I need to tell Sam to his face. It’s not a conversation to have over the phone. Nausea sits heavy in my stomach. “As soon as I return tomorrow.” Or maybe not the minute I return, because if I don’t hear from Emily, I will hunt her down even if I have to storm her house to find her.
I had every intention of waiting for Emily outside the tutoring center one night this week, but that didn’t happen. The only reason I haven’t scoured campus is because Sam told me he saw Emily briefly and she was fine. Honestly, hearing that on Thursday kept me calm, but when Friday rolled around and she still hadn’t responded to my text or phone call, I was beside myself. I almost didn’t get on the bus to come here.
I hang up and return my phone to the locker.
Carter is eyeing me. “Well?”
“Just Sam. He’s pissed about something.” I lie.
“Hoss, we need your head in this game.”
Some of the other guys around us stop talking.
I take in a deep breath, and when I release it, I pin a look on each of the players. All of us have busted our asses in preparation for this game. “I’m good, guys.” I assure them, lying through my teeth. Hopefully, when my cleats hit the field, the roar of the crowd will pull me out of my head and into the moment.
College football games are off the hook with the fans and the band, and the stadium is always electric. I love the adrenaline rush I get the second I hit the field.
The locker room door squeaks open. “Miller,” Coach barks. “I need a word.”
What the fuck now? I hardly get drunk, but I’m going to after this game. I’m beginning to understand why people drink or take drugs. Because my nerves are fried.
My mind is racing in time with my pulse as I meet Coach out in the hall. He’s probably about to give me a pep talk, but maybe not. He seems like he’s struggling to tell me something as he grips the back of his neck. “I’m not sure how to tell you this.”
Nausea continues to swirl in my gut as several curse words fly through my head. My breathing ramps up. What can he possibly tell me that’s making him nervous? If Ray had paid him a visit, I wouldn’t be here. Unless something happened to Emily. But if that were true, he wouldn’t tell me. He never talks about his family. Or maybe Emily told him about us already. Maybe she didn’t want to wait until our arranged dinner. That must be it, and he doesn’t want me seeing her. Man, I wish she was here so badly. My mood would be fantastic walking out onto the field knowing she was in the stands. I’ll be pissed if Coach does know about us, because that’s the only reason I didn’t beg her to attend today. Well, that and the fact I haven’t been able to get a hold of her.
“Give it to me straight,” I say, preparing myself for a verbal tongue lashing.
He grips my shoulder. “Son, I’m so proud of you. I can’t tell you how much I’ve enjoyed seeing you grow into the quarterback position.”
Oookay. I so wasn’t expecting that. Some of my muscles loosen, and I release the breath I was holding.
“The scout from the Chicago Bears will be in the stands. He’s here specifically to watch you.” Coach gri
ns like a proud father. “I was reluctant to tell you out of fear you would be too nervous. But I want you to kick ass out there. Be yourself. Be the QB I’m proud of and the university is proud of.”
My jaw slams on my cleats. “For real?” Excitement bubbles up my throat.
“And if we win,” he says. “We’ll get that invitation to the bowl game.”
No pressure whatsoever!
I’m fucked.
22
Emily
“You have no idea how freaking awesome it is to have you back, chica,” Scarlett says, circling her arm around my shoulders and smacking a loud kiss off my cheek.
“We missed you,” Zach adds, yanking me away from Scar. He wraps his arms around me from behind, grinning as he blatantly looks down the front of my low-cut little black dress.
I shake him off. “It’s good to be back.” Truth. Because since Molly and I became reacquainted last night, I’ve spent the hours in between in a blissful state of ecstasy. It helps that both the rents are gone this weekend, so Dad isn’t there to witness my fall from grace. “But I’m still with Adam.” I pin Zach with a look, reminding him some things have changed.
“But for how long?” Scar inquires. “He won’t be happy if he knows you’re back on the party scene.”
“He’s my boyfriend, not my jailer,” I retort, even if she makes a good point. And isn’t that one reason why I’ve been avoiding him?
“I don’t want to argue. Just saying what I said before. Your lifestyle and his don’t gel.”
“We’ll make it work. I love him, and he loves me, and that’s all that matters.”
Scar and Zach trade similar expressions, and I see red. “If you’re going to be assholes, I’m going home.” I’m not, because I don’t have any more pills on me, and I’m relying on Zach’s usual generosity until Adam returns.
“Don’t be such a drama queen.” Scar loops her arm in mine. “You’re not going home.” She makes a zipping motion with her finger against her lips. “And I won’t say another word.”
Zach slides his hand on my lower back. “Now, enough of the heavy. Let’s go party.”
* * *
I’m spread-eagled across a lumpy couch over in the quieter corner of the warehouse, reveling in the hazy euphoria clouding my troubled mind. Right now, I can’t even recall what it is I was worried about, just that I know I need this high to last so I don’t remember.
“There you are.” Zach flops down beside me. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”
I slap his thigh. “Was right here the whole time.”
A familiar song thumps from the loudspeakers, and I jump up, bouncing on my feet and swaying my hips to the electric beat. I yank Zach up. “Let’s dance!”
Without warning, he flings me over his shoulders, and I giggle as he shoves his way through the crowd, slapping my ass every few seconds. He slides me slowly down his body, keeping me close while we start moving. I fling my arms into the air, screaming the lyrics to the song as Zach grips my hips, swiveling his pelvis against mine in time to the music. His hard-on digs into my lower stomach, awakening my libido.
Adam.
He’s the one coherent thought in my mind, and I shove at Zach’s shoulders, pushing him back. “I can’t dance with you like that anymore. I’m taken,” I say, wiping my arm across my sweat-soaked brow.
Ignoring me, he reels me into his arms. “Not for long,” he murmurs, burying his head in my neck. He licks a line along the column of my neck, and a moan slips out of my mouth unbidden.
Sultry green eyes appear in my mind’s eye, and I push Zach away again. “Stop.”
“Come on, Em.” He steps into me. “I know you’re horny as hell. Let’s fuck. Hard. Just the way you like it.”
I shake my head even though my body is down with that plan. “I love Adam.”
“He’s not here, babe.” He runs his hands down either side of my body, brushing my breasts on purpose. His caress is like a shot of liquid lust to my pussy, and I ache between my thighs. “And what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”
I fight an inner battle. The horny party animal side of me wants to take all Zach’s offering, and it’s so fucking tempting, but there’s some sliver of sanity still residing in my brain.
I’m a lot of things.
But I’m not a cheater.
“No.” I take several steps back, bumping into someone, as my teeth clench involuntarily.
“Watch it!” Some asshole shoves me, thrusting me straight back into Zach’s arms.
“Look. It’s fate that you were meant to be in my arms and writhing underneath me tonight.” Zach shoots me a familiar cocky grin, and my resolve is wavering, my hands wandering up and down his chest of their own accord.
I pull my hands back, wriggling out of his hold. “I need to get out of here.” I push past people, stumbling on my high heels in my haste to get away, before I do something I’ll later regret.
“Em. Wait.” Zach grabs my elbow. “C’mon, babe. You know you want to.”
“Stop!” I yank my arm away, almost losing my balance. “I said no!”
“There’s no need to be such a bitch.” He crosses his arms, leveling a harsh glare at me. “And when your square of a boyfriend kicks you to the curb, don’t come looking for me.”
“Don’t worry, I won’t.” My lower lip juts out as I stomp toward the exit fuming. A cold chill tiptoes up my spine, and I slam to a halt as I suddenly remember I have no stash. I race after Zach’s retreating form, ready to eat crow. “Zach, wait.”
He spins around, a slow grin curving the corners of his mouth. “Knew you’d come to your senses.” He gropes my boob, and I slap his hand away.
“I need a couple of pills. I’m out.”
The smile slips off his mouth, and his eyes narrow. “You’ve some nerve.” A mischievous glint appears in his eye. “I’ll trade you. A fuck for a pill. Two fucks for two pills.” He waggles his brows, making a grab for my boob again. “I think you get the idea.”
“I’m not fucking you. I’m in a relationship, and I don’t cheat.”
“Then it’s no deal.” He shrugs.
“Zach, please.” I’m not above begging, because I can’t let this high fade. I can’t let reality come crashing back in, because I might not survive the night if it does.
“Get lost, Emily. I’m done supplying you. Get your boyfriend to throw you a few pills. We both know he’s good for it.”
With those parting words, he disappears into the crowd, leaving me standing there with my mouth open.
* * *
I stagger toward the taxi pulling up to the curb. “Cypress U campus, please.” I scramble into the back seat, pulling the door shut behind me. The car glides out onto the road.
Fuck. What the hell am I going to do now? I kick off my heels, swinging my legs up onto the seat and stretching them out. The driver eyes me through the mirror, but he can fuck off if he thinks I’m taking them down. My veins are buzzing, and my body is jittery, and I tap out a rhythm with a foot against the seat. I’m not done partying, but I have a free house so I can blare the music and dance around the living room to my heart’s content.
Except I’m going to come down from the high soon, and I need to find a solution.
I grapple with my fuzzy mind until an idea comes to me. Adam is at an away game, but I bet he has some pills stashed at his dorm. Sam will be there, and he’ll let me in.
Fifteen minutes later, I’m pounding my fists against their door, but Sam either sleeps like the dead or he isn’t inside.
“You shouldn’t be here.” I spin around, glaring at the guy with the glasses across the hall. “Leave or I’ll report you to the RA.”
I flip him the bird as I leave, holding my shoes and walking in my bare feet.
Desperation jumps up and bites me as I make the journey across campus to my house. Sweat clings to my brow, and strands of hair plaster to the sticky skin. I barely feel the asphalt under my feet as I walk, my heart thump
-thumping behind my rib cage as panic sets in.
They say desperation makes people do stupid things, and my next action proves that.
I slump to the ground in the hallway the second I step foot in my house, slamming the door shut with the palm of my hand. Rummaging in my purse, I extract my cell, not stopping to second-guess myself, punching in Adam’s number.
He’ll answer.
I’m sure of it.
Because I’ve been ignoring his calls and texts.
“Emily?” His breathless voice filters down the line. “Are you okay? I’ve been worried sick—”
“I need some pills,” I admit, cutting across him. “I went to your place, but Sam isn’t there. Can you call the RA and get permission for me to gain access to your room?”
Dead silence greets me.
“Adam! Did you hear me? I need Molly, and I need her now.”
“You’re high.”
“Well, duh.” I roll my eyes even though he can’t see me.
“You promised,” he says in a clipped tone, disappointment underscoring his words.
“So did you,” I snap. “And you’re still dealing, so quit with the martyr routine.”
Silence descends again.
“What happened?” he asks.
“Nothing. I just needed to let loose.”
“Don’t fucking lie to me, Emily.” He’s tempering his rage.
“I didn’t call you to be interrogated! Just tell me where you keep your supply.”
He lets out a disgusted laugh. “Absolutely not. Are you crazy?”
“Adam, please.” I use a softer tone, begging.
He growls. “No, Emily. I won’t enable you.”
Anger jumps up and bites me. “Fuck you, Adam. If you won’t, I’ll find someone who will.”
I end the call, screaming from the pit of my lungs, flinging my phone away. It skitters across the floor. My knee jerks as panic travels up my throat.
Holding on to Forever Page 21
