by Laura Pavlov
“Grab a few before I set them out for the animals,” she said with a chuckle.
I pulled up a chair and motioned for Ricky to do the same as we both reached for a donut. “You left early last night,” I said.
He shifted in his seat. “Is that okay? I didn’t want to get too drunk because I knew I was expected to be back here first thing this morning to clean.”
Ricky had been the first one to show up ready to work today. The other pledges had passed out on the couches or on the floor of one of the brothers’ rooms and still couldn’t get it together to be here on time when they’d spent the night under this very roof.
I noticed that kind of shit, because as much as I’d always liked to have a good time, I was all about putting in the work. I’d never been sloppy, nor had I ever slacked on my responsibilities. I’d grown up with a man who’d done that, and I didn’t want to take that path. It would give Simon far too much pleasure.
What can I say… I’m petty that way.
“Totally cool, dude. Relax. I knew you were good peeps, that’s why I wanted you here. We need brothers with a good head on their shoulders.”
“Thanks, Gray. I appreciate it.”
“Sure. Don’t let those assholes push you around. Know that I have your back, so don’t take too much shit. Okay?”
He took a bite of his donut and sprinkles fell all over the table and we both laughed. “Got it.”
We shot the shit for a little while and I made my way to my room to grab a shower. One of the perks of being president meant a private bathroom in my bedroom. After two years of sharing that communal shitter which held memories I’d rather not recall, I was happy for some privacy.
Not that there weren’t good times in there. Hell, I’d banged a few chicks in those stalls. I couldn’t complain. But now that I’d stopped drinking these past few weeks, it didn’t sound as appealing. It was filthy and it smelled like piss and shit, and it was certainly not the most conducive space to get your game on.
My phone buzzed and my father’s name flashed across the screen. Hadn’t talked to him in a few days as he was focused on surviving the first thirty days of his ninety-day program in rehab, so I tried to make myself available when he had time to talk.
“Hey, Dad. How’s it going?” I asked, dropping to sit on my bed.
“Gray, glad you picked up. It’s all right. Kind of feeling like I’m ready to get the hell out of here and get back to some normalcy, you know?”
This was not my first rodeo when it came to fielding these calls. He always wavered during the first two weeks. It was like the shock of his latest rock bottom would start to become less appalling. When he’d agreed to go to rehab, he’d been disgusted with himself and ready for change.
That’s the thing about addiction. It didn’t matter where you came from or how smart you were—it pulled you down into the ugly abyss of darkness. My dad wasn’t a bad guy. He was the smartest dude I knew, funny as hell, and loyal to the core—when he was sober. Unfortunately, he was high more often than not, and he’d gotten lost in all the numbing. I could probably hate the man if it had happened differently. My dad wasn’t the guy who just liked to party and couldn’t get it together. No, it had happened in the worst kind of way. He’d been in a car accident when I was five years old, and the doctor had prescribed him oxy. And that was all she wrote. He’d been fired from the firm a year later, and Mom left him shortly after.
He gave train wreck a new name.
This was a high-speed bullet train that had derailed in record time.
My grandparents lived back in Willow Springs and I saw them often when I was home. The hurt in my grandmother’s eyes was enough to sober Dad up and send him off to the rehab facility in Dallas once he’d lost all the money that he’d promised to pay right back.
It wasn’t the first time, and probably wouldn’t be the last.
I believed in redemption, but my father had taught me to be a realist after the many times I’d put too much stock into hoping he would get it together.
“Yeah. But remember, the results work best when you follow through with the whole ninety days, right? And Grandpa took that money out of his retirement to give you the chance to get clean. That alone should be enough motivation to see this through.”
“I hear you, son. But I put some money on the horses before I came in here, and it hit. Won a couple thousand bucks, and I’m ready to get out and make my money work for me. Get back in the game. Maybe talk to Larry at the firm about working my way back.”
He was talking crazy. My father had been disbarred and escorted off the property after he’d been caught stealing from his partners. I didn’t know all the gory details because I’d been young at the time, but I heard the talk around town, and I knew he’d fucked up bad enough that he wouldn’t be going back. But it didn’t mean he couldn’t get his life together and do something else.
“All right. Well, that money could be used to get on your feet when you get out. Or you could start paying Grandma and Grandpa back, right?” I ran a hand through my hair. How do you tell an addict that betting money on a horse was exactly the reason he needed to stay in the program and see it through?
“You fucking punk. Are you kidding me with this shit? I shouldn’t have called you, Gray. You’re a judgy asshole just like your mom.”
And hello, detox. Welcome back.
“I suppose so, Dad. But the difference is, I’m still here. Standing beside you and supporting you through all the bullshit.”
There were days that it was too much, and I was just tired of cheering him on only to be disappointed. But that glimmer of hope, that one percent chance that this time could stick—well, it was enough to keep me here.
Keep me hoping and believing he could get better.
He was silent on the other end. “Fuck. I’m sorry, kid. It just sucks right now.”
I hated when he called me kid. Like we were strangers and not father and son. It was his go-to word when he was pulling away, so it was a trigger for me.
“Dad,” I paused, giving him a minute to process the word. It was a little trick I’d picked up from a friend at one of my early Al-Anon meetings. I wasn’t above guilt or emotional blackmail if it helped my father find his way. “I know how tough this is. I’ve stopped drinking myself these past few weeks, because I realized that I’d been doing a bit of numbing myself.”
“Don’t go down that path, Gray. I know that asshole stepfather of yours is hard to deal with, but don’t let him push you down the rabbit hole. That’s what he wants.”
That was the first intelligent thing my father had said in two weeks. He was in there.
Somewhere.
Beneath all the lies and the shame.
Which was why I was holding on so hard to hope.
But he was right about Simon. And I’d given him plenty of ammunition against me. I’d partied my way through high school and the first few years of college because that’s what he said I would do, and if I was being completely honest and taking some responsibility of my own, it wasn’t all Simon’s fault. Drinking had become an escape for me too. And being the son of an addict, I should have recognized that instead of jumping on board and playing with fire.
I had tendencies like my father, and I was smart enough to recognize that they could pull me under. So yes, stepping back because I was in charge of this house had been a good move for me. And being sober for fourteen consecutive days had allowed me to see things a bit more clearly. First off, the fact that I hadn’t gone fourteen days without drinking in a few years was a big red flag. It was easy to ignore the signs when you’re constantly buzzed.
I was treading in dangerous waters.
And I wasn’t proud of that.
I was thankful that I wasn’t having any physical withdrawals from booze. And I was grateful that I’d never been tempted by anything stronger whe
n I was drunk. I’d always stayed away from drugs and pills because that was what had ultimately destroyed Dad’s life. But booze was a conduit to that lifestyle, and it was time to check myself at the door.
“I hear you. And I’m glad for this wake-up call. I think it’s easy to get lost in that escape, you know? I thought I was just having fun, but I’m not so sure anymore.”
“Well, you’re my son, so be careful. I’m sorry that I’m the reason you want to escape from life though. That’s on me.”
“That’s not it, Dad. Everyone’s got their shit, right? I’m just learning that it may be better to just deal with it and not run from it.”
“You’re a smart fucking kid, Gray. I still haven’t figured that shit out. I’ve been running so long I don’t know how to live anymore.”
“Yeah, you do. Just trust the process. Take it one day at a time, okay?”
“All right. I can do this.”
“Of course, you can. I believe in you, Dad.”
“Needed to hear that today. Love you, Gray.”
“Love you too. Call me if you need me,” I said.
“I will.” He ended the call, and I made a quick call to Toby, his counselor at the facility. Toby said that everything my father was saying was normal and to be expected. We had weekly calls, so he was keeping me posted on Dad’s progress. After we hung up, I made my way to the bathroom to shower.
I let the hot water beat down on my back. I liked having a clear head. I’d always been able to maintain good grades while partying my ass off like I was some kind of goddamn rock star. But having a clear head was different. And I didn’t mind it at all.
But I needed something good to focus on and the first thing that popped in my head was Gigi. I could still see her storming out of the house all pissed off and full of fire. I fucking loved it. Loved getting under her skin and getting her all worked up. It wasn’t right, but I never claimed to be a rule follower. I loved the way her tongue had dipped out to wet her lips after she’d hissed at me. The way her ass swayed as she exited the house.
I reached down and gripped my cock, sliding my hand up and down the shaft.
I closed my eyes and let my mind take me where it wanted to go.
Thoughts of Gigi Jacobs filled my head.
Blonde hair and sapphire eyes and a tight little body.
The thought of her soft lips made me grow even harder.
What the actual fuck?
This was worse than drinking. The absolute most forbidden thoughts I could have, and they were happening more often lately. But I couldn’t stop them if I wanted to.
And I didn’t want to.
I’d been torturing myself for too long.
Fantasy was okay. It would be my little secret and one I’d never act on.
I pumped harder as I thought about her perky tits. How she smelled like peaches and I imagined she’d taste just as sweet.
I groaned as the best orgasm of my life ripped through my body.
Good Christ.
Gigi was different. Special. I couldn’t fuck around with her. She deserved much better.
Not to mention she was Cade’s little sister.
But this wasn’t my first time fantasizing about this girl.
And it sure as shit wouldn’t be my last.
Chapter Five
Gigi
Bailey and her roommate Sadie had invited themselves into our room, literally just pushed the door aside and walked right in, and Addy had given me the look several times letting me know she was as annoyed as I was. I mean, who does that?
“That girl Ophelia down the hall told me she’s a virgin.” Bailey’s head fell back in laughter. “How pathetic is that? What is she waiting for?”
“Maybe she wants to wait for the right guy. I doubt she’d be very happy that you’re telling people what she shared.” Sadie frowned, and I could tell she was uncomfortable with her roommate. This was the first time I’d actually heard her stand up to Bailey.
“Agreed. There’s no shame in waiting,” Addy said.
“Are you telling me you haven’t jumped all over the hot quarterback?” Bailey flipped her hair over her shoulder and studied Addy.
“It’s not something I really talk about with people I don’t know well.” Addy’s face hardened. That was as harsh as she got, and I was grateful that she’d put the annoying girl in her place.
“Well, you’re no fun. How about you, Gigi? I know you all came from that tiny little town, but you know what they say about small-town girls,” Bailey said, and then forced a fake laugh.
“I don’t know what they say, nor do I really care.” I pushed to my feet. I was over this conversation. We weren’t even friends with this girl.
There was a knock on the door, and I was thrilled for the reprieve. Gray stood on the other side, and I’d never been so happy to see him because it meant that Bailey would have to leave.
“Hey, come in,” I said, and he startled. He probably expected me to ask why he was here or snarl at him like I usually did. It had been a few days since I’d gone to that party and he’d acted like a jerk. He checked in every day by calling and texting, but I’d stayed away from the fraternity house since then.
“Oh, oooohhhh,” Bailey said, taking him in so blatantly that Addy and I both laughed. “How do you know Gray?”
“How do you know Gray?” he barked before crossing his arms over his chest. The boy was moody and broody these days.
“I’ve seen you around.” Bailey fluttered her lashes at him, and I rolled my eyes. Sadie smiled nervously, as if his mere presence was too much for her.
Gray was beautiful to look at. No doubt about it. He was tall with broad shoulders and his hair was sexy in that I-don’t-give-a-shit way. And those mesmerizing green eyes had most girls falling at his feet.
Lucky for me, I didn’t look at him that way.
Or at least I didn’t allow myself to.
“All right. Are they leaving? Because I need to talk to you.” He turned his attention to me. He was on edge. I’d known this boy my entire life, and I could tell something was up.
“I guess what they say about small-town girls is true, huh, Gigi?” Bailey teased, and I wanted to dropkick her.
“Again, I have no idea what you’re talking about. See you later, Sadie,” I said, holding the door open for them as I hadn’t moved since hurricane Gray rolled in.
“Bye, Gigi. Bye, Addy.” Sadie smiled, and I decided right there to reach out to her more. Being roommates with Bailey must be the worst.
Addy and I both said goodbye and I shut the door.
“Who the fuck was that? Hell, I thought she was about to climb me like a goddamn tree,” Gray hissed before dropping to sit on my bed.
“Make yourself at home, why don’t you.” I rolled my eyes as Addy reached for her backpack.
“You’re right about her, Gray. She’s the worst. Okay, I’m off to Jett’s. You guys have fun. I’ll text you if I spend the night there, okay?” Addy said, pulling me in for a hug.
“Okay. Have fun.”
“See you, Addy. Tell Jett I’m looking forward to the game Saturday.” Gray kicked off his shoes.
Addy closed the door behind her, and I moved to stand over the large boy sprawled across my comforter. “What are you doing here?”
“There she is. I thought you were a little friendlier than usual when I first arrived.” He laughed.
“Well, I wanted her to leave. Your timing was impeccable for the first time… ever.”
“That’s how I roll, G. Just came to check on you and talk to you about that douchecanoe, Jaden. He actually just came to my room to ask me permission to ask you out like I’m your fucking keeper. Who does that? He’s an asshole.”
“I’m guessing someone who you threatened when he spoke to me at the party. Of course, he’s a
sking now. You told him to stay away from me and you’re the president of the fraternity he pledged. Now you’ve made him feel like he has to ask your permission, you power-hungry, arrogant—” I paused because I couldn’t think of enough descriptive words for him at the moment. “Ball-breaking, narcissistic, pompous ass.”
Not bad for a moment’s notice.
He sat up and a wide grin spread across his face, and my stomach flipped. “Oh, narcissistic is a good one. That’s new. Proud of you, girl.”
“Shut up. What did you tell him?”
“I told him, no. I said I’d kick his ass to the curb if he so much as looked at you.” He put his hands up when I gasped. “I’m kidding. I said I’d think about it. That’s why I’m here.”
“To ask if I like him?”
“Hell no. Of course, you don’t like him. He’s a putz. He woke up with another chick on the couch the morning after that party. He is not someone you want to mess with. But I wanted to tell you that so you could kick his ass to the curb.”
“So, you came all the way over to the dorms instead of calling me just to tell me to turn him down? And why do you care if he was with another girl? We aren’t dating. We’ve talked in class a few times, that’s it. And you shouldn’t be so judgy, seeing as you probably woke up with a random girl in your bed too. Glass houses, Gray Baldwin.”
He chuckled. “I did not. My dick is on some kind of hiatus. And when it comes to you, I’ll judge all day long. He’s not good enough for you, and that’s all you need to know.”
“Please do not talk to me about your penis. It’s more than I can handle right now,” I said, nervously pacing the room.
Did it just get hot in here?
Maybe it was my virgin-self getting nervous even thinking about Gray’s, er, package.
He laughed. “Good Christ, G. Don’t call it a penis. That’s offensive. Boys have penises. I’m a man. I have a dick. Or a cock. And it’s a really good one, if I don’t say so myself.”
