Torn: A College Sports Romance (Cherry Grove Series Book 3)

by Cole Lepley

  After stopping off to grab a quick bite to eat, I head back to my apartment. I smile to myself when I see my spot is open. I’m glad we could finally agree on something.

  My momentary happiness shifts into a frown when I see the smoke billowing out from the hood of Mackenzie’s Honda. After throwing my truck in park, I hop out to see if I can help.

  She has one foot inside the car jamming the gas while trying to crank the engine at the same time. Not a good idea.

  “Whoa,” I call, stepping in front of her car so she sees me. I hold my hands out and the revving stops.

  Mackenzie leans her head out of the open driver’s side door. Her eyebrows knit together in irritation when she sees me. I motion with my thumb for her to pop the hood. With an exaggerated eye roll, she complies.

  Waving the smoke away with my hand, I see the problem. She’s at my side now leaning over next to me.

  “See, there,” I say, pointing to the block. “The head gasket is leaking anti-freeze.”

  “Is that bad?”

  I nod. “Uh, yeah. You probably blew your motor.”

  “Are you serious?” she cries, gripping her hands in her hair. She takes a few steps away, pacing in the parking lot.

  “Well, I can fix it,” I offer, walking over to her. “Shouldn’t cost more than a grand.” I shrug and she narrows her eyes at me.

  “Oh, sure. No problem,” she says sarcastically. She laughs. “You say that like it’s no big deal. Not all of us have a thousand bucks just lying around.”

  I reach for her, instantly feeling like a dick. I know money is a privilege most people don’t have in excess, but she doesn’t appear to be hurting.

  “I didn’t mean to sound so causal about it. I guess I…”

  “I get it,” she says angrily, cutting me off. She motions toward my new truck. “How could you possibly understand how it feels to work for something?”

  My jaw tenses, the apologetic smile shifting from my face. “Listen, babe. I worked for that truck. My parents may be fairly comfortable, but I’ve been working for my dad since I was twelve. I spent my summers going to work sites with him and doing all the bullshit he pays people to do so I could learn responsibility. Don’t tell me I’ve had everything handed to me.” I turn to walk away and then think better of it, spinning back around. “You know, it would be nice if you would quit acting like you have me all figured out when you couldn’t be more wrong.”

  The tension in her shoulders subsides with my words. I can’t stand the sadness in her eyes. This isn’t about the car. Not at all.

  “Judah, I’m sorry. This,” she says, pointing to her still smoking car. “Is the last thing I need right now. I have somewhere I need to be.”

  Stepping closer again, I run my hand down her arm in reassurance. “Well, that’s not a problem, Mack. I can give you a ride.”

  If I’m not mistaken, I see a fleeting smile hint on her lips. It’s directly replaced with uncertainty. She bites down on her thumbnail. “I don’t know.”

  I cock my head to her. “Come on, it’s just a ride. I wasn’t doing anything, anyway.” I bump her shoulder gently with my fist. “And we’re friends, right? That’s what friends do.”

  After another long moment of contemplation, she lets out a lengthy breath. “Okay, but you have to wait in the car.”

  Even though this new detail surprises me, I smile anyway. “Sure, babe. Whatever you need.”

  “Stop calling me babe, Judah.”

  I laugh, motioning to my truck. “Okay, I’ll try.”

  She walks over and I open the door for her. As soon as she’s situated, I lean in. “Admit it, Mack. You kind of like it.”

  “You’re pushing your luck right now.”

  I think her words were meant to be stern, but she falters just enough to make me think otherwise. All I can do is smirk back at her before shutting her door. At this rate, dressing like a douche at homecoming is seeming like a real possibility.

  Chapter 8

  Haunted

  Mackenzie

  Sitting next to Judah in his truck is a terrible idea. But what choice do I have? My car is completely fucked and Zander is nowhere to be found. I dial his number again and it goes straight to voicemail. I angrily shove my phone in my bag and cross my arms. If I didn’t absolutely need to make this appointment, I would skip it all together. It’s the last one. After this, I’m finally free. Sort of.

  Judah remains quiet for most of the twenty-minute drive, humming along with the radio, sometimes in tune—sometimes not. I find it adorable either way. He doesn’t seem like the type of guy to hum period, let alone with someone else in the vehicle. He must feel comfortable with me. Or it’s just all part of his secret plan, which I haven’t exactly figured out yet.

  The pensive look returns to his face as he glances over at me occasionally. Besides asking for direction every couple stops, he still hasn’t spoken, but I can tell he wants to.

  I sigh. “I’m not going to bite your head off, Judah. I’m sorry I was such a bitch back there when you were clearly trying to be nice.”

  He shrugs, making another left turn at the stop sign as instructed. “It’s okay, babe—or I mean Mack.” He looks thoughtful for a moment. “Can I call you Mack? Or is that offensive too?”

  A slight smile perks up on my lips. Truth is, I like it. “You can call me Mack if you want. My friends do.”

  His eyes turn brighter. “Am I your friend?”

  “I don’t take rides from strangers, so I guess so.” I twirl a stand of hair around my finger, not making eye contact with him.

  He lets out a laugh. “One step up from some random person you met on the street. I guess you have to start somewhere.”

  When I glance over at him he’s not smiling anymore. “Judah, I’m sorry. Today just really sucks for me, and the whole car thing made it ten times worse.”

  “I can fix your car,” Judah offers.

  “No way,” I say immediately. “I don’t take handouts. I’ll figure it out myself.”

  Judah shakes his head. “I know a guy who has body shop back home. He owes me a favor.” He reaches over and squeezes my hand. “Besides, I’m pretty handy with things like that. Another thing to surprise you with.”

  Although the warmth his hand brings upon my fingers feels nice, I pull away. “I’ll think about it, okay?”

  He seems satisfied with my answer and places both hands back on the wheel. Another five minutes later we pull into a parking lot of a three-story office building. They are mostly medical offices, and there is only one entrance. There’s no way he’ll be able to tell which office I enter once I’m inside.

  I release my seatbelt and take in a breath. His eyes drift to the building and then back to me. “Are you sure you don’t want me to go with you? Or at least wait in the waiting room?”

  I shake my head. “No, the deal was you wait in the truck.” I point my finger at him and he holds his hands up with a smirk.

  “Okay, I’ll be right here when you’re done.”

  I reach for my bag and pause with my hand on the door handle, turning back to him. “You can take a drive or something. This could take almost an hour.” It did last time.

  He smiles again and pats my hand. “I’ll be here the whole time.”

  I force a smile and hop out of his truck. My legs begin to feel weak the closer I get to the double door. The last time I was here it didn’t go well. I’m hoping for a different outcome. The elevators are just inside the foyer and I press the button for the top floor. The décor of the entire building is meant to convey a calming environment, but it has an opposite effect on me. Every step closer to her office my pulse beats faster, my palms get clammy and I feel as though I may vomit. Yeah, real calming.

  When I reach Dr. Sanders door, I give a firm knock. She opens it with a smile.

  “Mackenzie, I’ve been expecting you.”

  I walk past her with a tight smile of my own to my designated chair. “Well, it was court ordered s
o I would say so.”

  The look on Dr. Sander’s face remains neutral and she grabs her notepad and takes the plush, orange chair in front of me. “I’m still happy to see you.”

  I bite my tongue so I don’t say something sarcastic. I trace the letters on her name plate instead.

  She flips through pages until she gets to our last session.

  “Oh,” she says, surprise highlighting her severe features. “This is our last session.”

  “No shit.”

  Her eyebrows rise, but doesn’t elaborate further. She never feeds into my disdain, no matter how hard I try.

  “Have you been attending the meetings?”

  I reach into my patchwork messenger bag and pull out a folded over stack of papers, handing them to her. “All the T’s are crossed, I’s are dotted.”

  My sarcasm doesn’t escape her as she glances them over, pushing her glasses down from the bridge of her nose.

  “It seems you’ve completed the program. Any questions?”

  “Nope.”

  She pushes her glasses up further to meet my eyes. “Mackenzie, the trauma you endured is not something that a couple of court ordered meetings and visits with a psychologist will fix.”

  I cross my arms, leaning back in my seat. “Wasn’t that the whole point? I talk to you, tell a couple sob stories at meetings warning today’s youth of the dangers of being a bad girl and poof!” I snap my fingers. “I’m cured.”

  She shuts her notebook and leans forward, lowering her voice. “You and I both know that’s just the tip of the ice burg. I need to know you’re safe. That you won’t…”

  My hand drifts to the bangle covering my left wrist.

  “I’m fine,” I say almost too loud. “I did what I was told and now it’s time that I get my life back, don’t you think?”

  Dr. Sanders lips press into a firm line while she scribbles something on the notepad again. I hate when they do this. It’s like talking behind someone’s back without the nasty rumors that follow.

  My face falls. “I’m not done yet, am I?”

  “I didn’t say that,” she replies, clicking her pen closed. “I think a few more sessions would do you some good. Really open you up.”

  I grip the edges of the chair so tight my fingernails dig in. “How much more open can I be? You know everything.”

  “That’s true, but I’m still not hearing you. You give the answers I want to hear. I need you to be honest about how everything makes you feel.”

  I cross my arms again. “Okay, ask me whatever you want.”

  She raises an eyebrow.

  “Go on, ask me anything. Sean’s parents are paying for this. Let’s use it to our full advantage.”

  “Although that’s not the reason I would like to continue, I do have more questions.”

  I motion her to speak with my hand impatiently.

  “Do you still have nightmares?”

  Every night

  “No.”

  “Panic attacks?”

  Sometimes daily

  “Not for as long as I can remember.”

  “Still taking your medication?”

  Not even once

  “Yep. Every day.”

  She continues to scribble on her pad, not looking up. “Okay, what about Zander? Is he still your main support system?”

  This makes me smile for once. “Absolutely. I don’t know what I’d do without him.”

  “And your parents?” At this she looks up. “Spoken to them?”

  After a brief pause, I shake my head. They still blame my lack of self-control over the whole ordeal. How can they possibly offer me support?

  “When I can. Classes keep my busy.”

  “What about your brother? How have things been since his release?”

  This question makes my chest seize. It will never be easy to talk about what happened to Perry. He didn’t deserve to be punished for my stupidity.

  I swallow the lump in my throat. “He’s doing well. He’s back working at the dealership with our dad.”

  “I see.” She goes silent again, re-reading what she wrote. “In my opinion, I think even though you completed the program I would like six more months with you.”

  I shoot up from my seat like a grenade went off. “Are you shitting me? I did everything you asked? This is bullshit!”

  I pace around the compact room, anger vibrating through every cell in my body. Dr. Sanders remains seated with her legs crossed, barely affected by my outburst at all.

  “Just once a week, to make sure you’re still on track. The wounds, both physical and mental, are still healing. It’s my job to make sure you’re…”

  “Not still crazy?” I shoot back at her.

  “No, and you’re not crazy.” She reaches for a container of tissues and I push them away. “No one ever used the word crazy. These things take time and I want to make sure I give you enough of it.” She goes back to her notepad, and I retake my seat.

  I lean forward and rest my hands on my knees. “You’re not going to sign it, are you?”

  Her expression turns solemn. “No, Mackenzie. You’re not ready yet.”

  Sniffing back unshed tears, I reach for my bag once more, standing. “I guess I don’t have a choice. See you next week.”

  I let the door slam hard on my way out, even though it was a childish thing to do. I take quick strides to the private bathroom at the end of the hallway. With the door locked, I set my bag on the floor beside me and grip the counter with both hands. The hollow eyes staring back at me don’t even look real anymore. I’m still a shell of my former self and it’s been over a year. Mindlessly, I twirl the bangle around my wrist. The pinkish scar runs half-way up my vein. I can’t even do that right. As much as I try not to, the tears fall anyway. Even if Judah wins this bet, he’ll wish he didn’t.

  Chapter 9

  Casting Shadows

  Judah

  After Mackenzie got back in the truck thirty minutes later, she didn’t say anything. I didn’t push her either. Sometimes words can’t help what you’re going through and I can tell this is one of those times. When we get to the apartment, she mutters an apology and reaches for the door handle. I can’t help but reach over to stop her.

  “Wait.”

  Her dejected eyes meet mine and my heart squeezes in my chest. Whatever it is, I want to take it away. Even if she does hate me, I can’t help but want her not to.

  “Do you want to do something tonight?”

  She laughs, pulling the elastic from her wrist and twisting her hair up into a haphazard bun. “I wouldn’t be good company, Judah.”

  “I don’t mind.”

  When I shrug, she inches back into her seat. It’s clear to me she’s looking for reasons to bail, and yet, I’m not sure she wants to.

  “I’m not the type of girl you should want to hang out with. I won’t stroke your ego or giggle at your jokes.” She gives a shrug of her own. “I’m just… me.”

  I stifle a laugh. My mind is stuck on the fact that she said stroke. It really has been too long.

  “Okay, then,” I say, turning in my seat to face her. “What would you usually be doing on a night like this?”

  “It’s a Tuesday. I would be studying.”

  “What are you studying?”

  A puff of air escapes her and I focus on her lips. The top one is a tiny bit fuller than the bottom. Not in an odd way, but in the kind of way that I want to kiss her to see what they feel like.

  “Probably calculus even though I don’t need to.” She gives a sheepish smile. It’s obvious she’s only trying to get rid of me. It’s almost dark outside now, but I’m not ready for my time with her to end yet.

  “Well, you could help me with the next assignment? It’s not due until next week, but we could use our tutoring session to do something fun instead.”

  She laughs, readjusting her hair again. “Fun? With you? I doubt it.”

  I cross my arms. The air inside the cab of this truck suddenly
feels several degrees warmer. “Why not?”

  She leans in, and I catch a whiff of her flowery perfume before she narrows her eyes at me.

  “I know about the bet, Judah.”

  All the air escapes my lungs in one breath. I was not expecting that at all. Preston and his big, stupid mouth.

  I shake my head. “It’s not what you think.”

  Her lips purse together and she extends her hand for the door again. “Yeah right…”

  I grab her by the waist before she can get too far. “I’m serious. Hear me out for once, will ya?”

  Her hand tightens on the arm that is holding her in place as she looks between me and her exit. After a moment she relaxes, and I pull my hand back.

  “Listen, I considered messing with you but I’m really not up for it. You can tell them whatever you want, I don’t care.”

  My eyebrows knit together at her words. Is she insinuating that I should tell my friends I slept with her so I can win some bet?

  “Babe, you got it all wrong.” She narrows her eyes again, but I keep going. “The bet was for me to lose. They said I would fall for you because you’re so obviously not into me.” I motion with my hands around her, and she laughs.

  “Why would they think that in the first place? You clearly have no issues getting girls to throw themselves at you. I had several girls at Preston’s party fighting to be the sacrifice so you would win. No questions asked.”

  Reaching my hands up, I adjust the bill of my ball cap a few times. “Um, well it seems I only want the ones who don’t want me.”

  She lowers her eyes and when they meet mine again, there’s a softness to them that wasn’t there before. “Who wouldn’t want you? So far, despite my best attempts, I can’t really hate you.” This causes me to smile and so does she. “And you’ve helped me even though I’ve been a complete dick to you ever since—oh, I get it now.” Her smile widens and I grit my teeth together.

  Mackenzie is only half right. Even though winning her over has proven to be harder than I thought, this is more so about Elliot than anything else. That’s not a topic I wish to dive into right now.