I release a slow breath and try to slow my heart rate. Spending time with Braxton outside of class shouldn’t make me excited. But admittedly, it does. Damn it. No! No way. I can’t do it.
“I’m busy that night.”
“No, you’re not. Besides, you have to go with me. Garret always goes home for the weekends. We never hang together outside class and study time.”
I quirk an eyebrow at her. “Never, huh?”
She nods, deflecting my accusation.
“Come on, Cara. Even with my brother hanging around, we’ll have fun.”
Great. Now I have two girls working against me.
“I don’t know. I transferred here to get away from the partying.” Not that I was a big partier, per se, but I have a tendency to fall for the wrong guys. And the way my heart races at the mention of Braxton, I think my point is proven.
“Maybe Tryce will be there.” Lexie tries to coax me, but that dangling carrot isn’t enticing at all.
“Not helping. I’ve been trying to avoid him, which is hard, considering he sits across the table from me during lab.”
“I thought you were going to give him a chance. We’ve discussed this.”
“I was, but…”
“Who’s Tryce?” Shannon leans forward, her eyes wide and ready to absorb this juicy tidbit.
“He’s in her bio lab with your brother.” Lexie turns back to me. “Not so fast. You’re supposed to go out and have fun. Get to know him better.”
“I know, but I don’t see anything happening between us.” He doesn’t give me sparks like Braxton. Nothing can come of Braxton and me, but I still want that level of connection with someone.
“You don’t know that until you give him a try.”
“Fine! If he ends up asking again, I’ll say yes.” After deflecting his last attempt, I doubt he asks anyway.
“What? What do you mean, again? When did he ask?”
“The night of the fire.”
Lexie scrunches her nose. “That’s an odd time to ask someone out.”
“Right! That’s what I thought. He caught me off guard.”
“And you told him no?”
“Not exactly.” I rap my pen against my notepad. I hate being put on the spot. “I told him I’m busy until mid-October.”
Shannon barks out a laugh. “Why did you punt him until then?”
“I, uh…” I stumble on my words, not knowing what to tell Shannon. I’d rather watch my brother’s playoffs games than go on a date isn’t something I can say.
“She’s a really big baseball fan and doesn’t want to miss the playoffs,” Lexie says, saving me.
“That’s cool. I’m totally down with that. I love baseball. I’m ready for the playoffs to start.”
“I don’t know if you two realize, but there are no playoff games this weekend. There aren’t even any home games.” Lexie winks at me. “So, Saturday’s a go then?”
“I’m in,” Shannon adds.
“I don’t know.”
“You’re going,” they say in unison.
“And you’re wearing something sexy. Not anything like that.” Lexie waves a finger at my outfit.
I glance down at my oversized T-shirt and cross my arms. “I wouldn’t wear this to a party.”
She’s bounces the “oh, really” look back at me. “You’ve been walking around the entire semester dressed like a potato sack. I think it’s time to show off what God has given you.”
“I think he’s content with me keeping it covered.”
Before she could protest, my phone rings. The three of us glance at it before the picture registers. Son of a—
“Ew, why is my brother’s abs on your phone?”
“Interesting,” Lexie chimes in.
Fuck. I swipe up the phone and hit answer. “When did you add your profile pic?”
Laughter greets me from all around. “Like that, do you?”
“No, I’m changing it as soon as we’re done. Why are you bugging me?”
“I meant to tell you about the party at our house this Saturday, but I was interrupted before I got the chance. I wanted to make sure you were going.”
My heart stutters. He’s inviting me to his house party. “I may have heard a rumor, but—”
“No buts, you’re going. I’ll see you there.”
He hangs up, and I stare at the phone in awe. What on earth just happened? Part of me wants to be mad at his arrogance—how dare he think I’ll just go—but then, the girlie side of me wants to jump up and down because he invited me to his party. Sort of.
I’m pathetic.
“I guess I’m going.”
“Yay!” Shannon pops out of her chair and races to my closet like a woman on a mission. “This is my specialty. I’ll have you looking sexy in no time.” The fashion student starts rummaging through my clothes and lets out a squeal. “You have a pair of Louboutin boots?”
And how do I explain owning a fourteen-hundred-dollar pair of boots without giving my brother’s identity away? “They were a gift from my brother. He does fairly well at his job.”
“I’d say if he gave you these.” She brings them to her chest and squeezes. “Oh, I’d love to own a pair of these. I asked for them for Christmas, but Mom flat-out refused.”
“Okay, put the boots down,” Lexie says through a laugh. She springs off the bed and joins Shannon by the closet. “We need to find something sexy.”
“No, we don’t.” My protest falls on deaf ears. I sigh and grab some half-popped kernels. If they’re going to play makeover, I may as well watch the show.
“There has to be something in here,” Lexie mumbles.
Good luck, I think. Back in Philly, I dressed more provocatively. Nothing felt better than catching the eye of every guy I walked by, but after my fallout with Drake, I was just done. I came here to focus more on myself. I don’t want to be the “fine piece of ass” Drake used to call me. Nope, I’m not using my body to get them to look at me. I gave myself a makeover when I came out here. Instead of form-fitting tops, my wardrobe consists of flowing tops. Perhaps, I went overboard with trying to cover myself.
“Ding. Ding. Ding. We found a winner.” Shannon pulls out my white lace mini dress and my stomach sinks. I had forgotten about this clubbing outfit. The bodycon-style dress sports a scooped neckline, giving it an elegant but sexy appeal. But the best feature is the open back. I packed the dress in case I had a weak moment. Well, that and the Louboutin boots are killer paired with this. But to wear it to a party?
“Uh, no. I’m not wearing that to a party on jock row.”
“Yes, you will.” Lexie pipes up. “And you’ll look sexy as hell.”
“I don’t understand why it’s important.”
“Please, if my body was half as great as yours, I’d be showing it off to everyone,” Lexie says.
“Shut up. You look great. And I expect nothing less with your outfit.” Shannon nudges Lexie. “We’re going to be the best-dressed bitches there.”
“Oh, don’t worry. I have no qualms showing off my full curves.” Lexie turns to me. “And you’ll have no problems showing off with us.”
“Fine. I’ll go and dress like a girl.” I wink while they laugh. Dressing up for a party won’t be so bad. Surely, I can fend off temptation for one measly night.
Chapter Twenty-One
CARA
I’m going to kill them. Yep, Shannon and Lexie are officially on my shit list. If I was smart, I’d pull up the CU-Pal app and unfriend their asses right now. Believe me, the temptation is strong. Under normal circumstances, I wouldn’t even hesitate.
But I can’t move.
And the reason for my demise is that every set of eyes—male and female filling Braxton’s living room—zeros in on us. Me specifically.
I shift my weight to my other foot, but in these Louboutin boots, the movement is slight and does nothing to curb my anxiety. Who designed stiletto heels for ankle boots anyway? They’re totally impractical.
<
br /> I mentally scold myself. I love these boots. How dare I think anything ill of them. But what I don’t like is being gaped at like a runway model during the New York Fashion Week. This level of attention isn’t my idea of fun. Not anymore. Thank you, Drake. The asshole ruined me from having a good time.
And I hate that.
This insecure girl isn’t me. I’m from Philadelphia, for fuck’s sake. We Philly girls don’t care what people think. Back home, I wore a sexy dress as if it were my second skin. The whole idea was to snag these appreciative glances. The group of girls I hung with partied it up. From the frat keggers to the clubs that accepted our fake IDs, we owned the city. Or, at least, the small section we’d hit.
Somewhere along the lines of wanting to prove I’m more than a pretty face and not the drama queen my family seems to think, I’ve lost myself. And apparently, my self-confidence. I straighten my shoulders and take a deep breath. I can do this.
“I don’t see my brother anywhere. Remember, if he tries to make me leave—”
“We’ve got your back,” Lexie assures. “You’re not going anywhere.”
The mention of Braxton’s name has me scanning the open space for him, but I don’t find him. Disappointment claws at my throat, which throws me off. It shouldn’t matter when I see him. This is his house. He has to be here somewhere. And speaking of his house…
“Are those stripper poles?” I ask, having no idea Braxton’s teasing held some truth.
Lexie laughs. “I think the designer must have been an alumni male. Isn’t that the craziest design for college housing? But look, there’s already a line to use them.”
And that’s when I notice a group of girls circled around a familiar-looking auburn-haired girl. Judging by their narrowed eyes and set jaws, they’re not as appreciative of our presence as the rest of the crowd. Isabella stands arms crossed and scowling. Her menacing stare prickles my skin, and for a slight second, I fear she discovered my alias.
“Hey, Shannon. You’re looking rather sexy tonight.”
My head snaps to a guy I haven’t seen before, and holy crap. Hello, Mr. Attitude. His jet-black hair matches his black leather jacket, but it’s the way his stance exudes this can’t-touch-me vibe that has my heart racing. With the color of his olive skin popping against the white beater shirt and the hint of flesh peeking through the ripped jeans, I’d swear he just stepped off a modernized Rebel Without A Cause set.
“Thanks, Dalton.” A hint of a blush sweeps across Shannon’s face. “It looks like the party’s in full swing.”
“It is now. You need a drink?”
From out of nowhere, Noah steps beside us. A brightness hits Shannon’s eyes as a hint of a smile crosses her face at his approach.
“She’s too young to drink.” As the words fly from Noah’s mouth, Shannon’s face falls.
“Really? You’re going to police me? You’re as bad as my brother.”
“You’re a freshman. Technically, you shouldn’t be here. But your brother will come unglued if he sees you drinking.” Noah glares at Dalton. “Or fraternizing with any baseball players.”
Dalton’s eyebrows quirk, and he looks like he’s about to say something, but he must think better of it. Instead, he turns to Shannon. “I’ll talk to you later.”
“Sure.”
Noah’s back stiffens, and I don’t miss the tic to his jaw. He must be as protective over her as Braxton. Shannon’s stare lingers after Dalton before cutting back to Noah.
“Where is my brother?”
“He had to put Miller up. Isabella didn’t quite get along with him.”
Big surprise. Even the doggie doesn’t like her. I’ve read somewhere that canines can sense negative energy. I can’t help but wonder if that’s the case. And speaking of the non-dog-loving friend, they’ve worked their way over to us.
“Isabella,” Lexie says curtly. “I heard you had a run-in with Miller.”
“You mean that mutt of a dog?” Isabella’s eyes narrow. No, they glare at Lexie before turning toward me. “Braxton is taking care of him for me. He does things like that.”
“You mean getting rid of a harmless animal?” I ask, not knowing what she’s getting at or why she looks so smug.
“The mutt was growling and baring his teeth at me. Hardly harmless. But no, I mean he’s always coming to my rescue.”
Before I can answer, Braxton slides next to Isabella.
“Miller’s taken care of, but he’s really harmless—” Braxton stops talking when his gaze settles on me. With his mouth agape, he gives me a once-over, gaze lingering on my scooped neckline. He blinks and shakes his head as if he’s trying to orient himself. “Pole Girl, you came.”
“You really need to quit calling her that,” Shannon mutters under her breath.
“And you need to get back to your dorm. Freshmen aren’t allowed at our parties.”
Shannon rolls her eyes. “You’re not banning me from partying.”
Braxton opens his mouth, but Noah cuts him off. “I’ll keep an eye on her.”
“Great, another babysitter.” Shannon’s eyes cut to Noah. Even though she’s trying to look pissed, I have a suspicion she isn’t as upset as she sounds. “Come on then, bodyguard, get me something that’s sibling approved.”
“I’m thirsty, too. Braxton, you promised to make me a drink.” The whine in Isabella’s voice grates across my nerves.
“Uh, sure,” he answers but doesn’t take his gaze off me. “I’ll catch up with you later.”
My heart leaps. Fucking skips with pleasure from his promise. “Sure.”
Isabella shoots me a dismissive glance before flashing her pearly whites to Braxton. When she wraps her fingers around his rather defined biceps, I clench my hands and press them into my thighs. It takes everything I have not to pry her talons off of him. Her posse flashes me a glare before trailing behind her.
“Someone’s made an enemy,” Lexie singsongs.
“By just existing?”
“She’s rather possessive of him, but he swears they’re just friends. From what went down, I’m beginning to think Braxton’s blind.”
“Thank you.” I toss my hands up. “I didn’t think my radar diminished that much since moving out here.”
Lexie laughs. “Come on. Let’s find the birthday boy. He must be out back in The Meadow.”
I look over at Braxton grabbing a bottle of vodka and a shaker glass. He laughs at something Isabella said, looking rather comfortable. That disturbs me more than it should. I roll my eyes and follow behind Lexie.
The Meadow consists of a huge field behind jock housing. A few guys are tossing a football, and we find Garret easily enough. We wait for him to approach us because I’m not straying from the concrete pad.
“Hey, gorgeous.” Garret slurs his words and wraps his arm around Lexie’s waist. Without hesitation, he lifts her off the ground.
“Someone’s feeling good already.” Lexie tosses her head back in laughter.
“It’s my birthday, and I have a free weekend.”
I don’t know what Garret means by being free, but he’s definitely happy. He sets Lexie down and drapes his arm around her shoulders before planting a kiss on the side of her forehead.
“I’m so glad you’re here, but your hands are empty. I’ll go get you gals a drink.”
My phone rings, and I bite back a groan. Mom has a knack for calling at the worst time. “It’s Mom. I better get this."
“I’ll go with Garret and bring you back something.” Lexie gives me a sympathetic look that I return with a half-smile. Answering the phone right as Garret opens the door, I try to shield the microphone when music blares into the night air.
“Where are you?” Nothing puts me on the defense faster than Mom’s accusatory tone. I mentally chastise myself for answering her call, but let’s face it. Ignoring her leads to more panicking which leads to AJ getting involved.
“At a party beyond wasted,” I deadpan.
“Very funn
y.” Mom lets out a huff. “You need to be careful.”
“It’s Saturday night. I’m out with friends. You need to quit worrying about me.” As soon as I speak the words, I know I’m in for a verbal lashing.
And she doesn’t disappoint.
With phrases like “you’re my daughter,” “I’ll always worry,” and “don’t speak to me like that,” I keep quiet and let her ramble until it’s out of her system. Otherwise, I’ll never get her off the phone. After she runs through the safety lesson, I end the conversation more than a little frustrated. She really needs to let me live my life.
Garret and Lexie haven’t returned, so I take advantage and check the score of the game. The season is winding down, and every win from here on out is crucial. The Dodgers are up by three runs in the bottom of the eighth. Hopefully, our closer can hang on to the lead.
“Whatcha doing?” The deep timbre of Braxton’s voice skates across my back as he comes up behind me.
“Nothing.” I quickly exit the app and tuck my phone back into my clutch purse.
“Really? Because if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were checking out the Dodgers game.”
Warmth coats my face. I must look like the biggest loser ever. “Guilty.”
“You disappoint me.” He scoots to the side of me and pulls up a couple of chairs.
“Why’s that?”
“I need you to be a Giants fan if you’re going to hang with me.”
“Who says I’m going to be hanging with you?”
The corners of his mouth lift as he motions for me to sit. I oblige. “Trust me. It will happen.”
“We’ll see.”
“You ready for midterms?”
“Seriously? You’re going to ask me about school?” The question throws me off because midterms aren’t for a few weeks.
“What? I need a distraction. You’re too damn beautiful in that outfit.” Our gazes lock, and I try to act nonchalant despite the rapid pounding in my chest. “All I can think about is what you’d look like with it off.”
I sit there, mouth agape, my brain trying to assimilate a quick comeback. No matter how badly I need to stay away, his brazen admission serves as an accelerant to the desire building inside me.
Swinging Strike (Cessna U Wildcats Book 1) Page 15
