She was falling for him. He was falling for her.
And my plan was quickly getting sidelined.
A very small, very quiet voice in my head told me I should stop the charade altogether. I should tell Skyler she’s off the hook, free to do whatever she wanted with Kip. I should move on, leaving my past in the past.
But that voice was like a quiet whisper compared to the other one, the one screaming like a freight train for me to hold onto this one, small sliver of possible happiness.
It’s been such a long year, filled with so much pain, and all I want is to feel whole again.
I hear my mom’s voice in my head again as I ask myself how many people I’ll have to hurt in the process, and I can’t find it in myself to care.
I steel my emotions as the front door creaks open, Skyler sneaking through it as quietly as she can. I deposit the empty tea cup on the table beside the couch, reaffirming my plan to pull her head back in the game. She had a fun night. She’s distracted. She’s possibly thinking of all the ways she can ask me to call everything off.
This is my chance to get us back on track.
Just before she hits the stairs, I find my voice, the sound of it almost foreign as I call after her.
“Good night?”
I can’t disguise the touch of bitterness in my words, but Skyler doesn’t seem to catch it as she clutches her heart and lets out a sigh of relief when she sees me on the couch.
“Holy shit, Big. You scared the living hell out of me.”
“Sorry,” I say with a smile, willing all the calmness I can from my inner pool of strength. “I was waiting up, wanted to know how it went tonight.”
Skyler eyes me like she doesn’t believe that for a second. My Little is smart, and she’s careful with her word choice as she falls down into the cushions next to me, her pink cheeks framed by the long hair now falling out of her messy bun.
Effortlessly beautiful, that’s what Skyler is. She doesn’t need makeup, or a dress, or a strand of pearls. She’s the kind of girl who can roll out of bed and have a man falling to his knees with want.
Kip was proof of that.
“It was nice,” she says, her eyes soft on mine. “We went to dinner and to the pier, nothing special.”
Liar.
The thought screams through me, but I force a smile, swallowing past the sandpaper knot in my throat.
“Good.”
Skyler watches me for a long moment, like she’s trying to decipher the thoughts in my head. If only she knew how difficult that was, how long I’d tried to untangle the sticky web of them.
There’s a touch of something behind her blue irises… pity, maybe? But I don’t let it sink in, don’t let my heart soften at the sight of it. And when she moves to stand, saying she wants to turn in for the night, I drop that hard shield over my heart again.
“Wait.”
Skyler turns, waiting for my next words.
“Has he asked you to the A Sig Valentine’s Day dance yet?”
“No,” she answers, her voice hesitant. “And I doubt he will.”
“No, he definitely will,” I assure her, a hint of bitterness back in my words. I cross my arms tight over my chest, testing my next words before I say them aloud. “When he does, you’ll say yes. And that’s the night you blow him off. I’ll be there with Chance Griffins. It’ll be perfect. Chance is a dog and will surely do something to piss me off,” I think out loud, the plan forming as the words tumble out. “Kip will be heartbroken, and by the end of the night, we’ll be consoling each other between the sheets.”
Skyler’s calm expression cracks a little at that, and I can’t help but cringe with her.
Did those words really just come out of my mouth?
I’m distantly aware of how far I’ve fallen from the girl I used to know as I watch Skyler, looking for any sign of defiance, all the while wondering how the hell I got here.
“Okay, sounds like a plan,” she says after a moment.
I nod, something between a smile and a grimace finding my lips as I lean back into the couch again. I wait for Skyler to make her way up the stairs, but she just watches me instead.
Then, slowly, she sits back down beside me and pulls me in for a hug.
I stiffen in her arms, warning bells going off at her proximity. But then her warmth transfers into me, and I break, leaning into her as I rest my head on her chest.
The urge to cry washes over me like a tsunami, but I swallow it down.
“You okay, Big?” Skyler whispers.
I sigh, one word slipping through my lips easily. “No.”
After that, I’m not sure what to say.
I was raped.
I thought I was okay, but I’m not.
No one knows except Bear, and he can’t help me. No one can. No one but me. But I don’t know how to help me.
I’m scared.
I feel used. I feel broken. I feel ruined.
I don’t know who I am anymore.
I hate myself for what I’m doing to you.
I don’t know how to stop.
Each thought flicks in and out of range like low-flying birds, close enough to see but too far away to touch, to catch and hold onto.
So, I lie, instead.
Seems to be the only thing I’m good at doing, anymore.
“I’m stressed the fuck out,” I say. “Being president is amazing, but it’s a lot of work. I’m falling behind in class already and I feel like my social life is consumed with meetings and philanthropy work.”
And stalking you and Kip.
“I’m happy,” I whisper, the lie coming from my lips so effortlessly I surprise myself. “But, I don’t know…”
“Can you take a break?” Skyler asks, her Mrs. Fix-It brain already kicking into high gear. “Let J-Love and Lei handle some of the weight for a while? I know you like to be in control, but maybe just let a few of the smaller things go so you have more time.”
“Yeah, I guess I could,” I say, my heart aching a little as she holds me tighter.
Here I am using her for my own agenda, and she can’t help herself but to try to help me feel better.
The world doesn’t deserve Skyler Thorne.
“You know how I am, though,” I continue “I just feel like if I don’t do everything, it’ll all get messed up.”
“I know, Big,” she says with a laugh. “But trust me, the girls know what they’re doing. Your G-Little is pretty smart, too. You should ask her for help.”
I should probably also jump off a cliff because I’m quite possibly the worst human being to ever walk the Earth.
“Really?” I ask distantly.
“Seriously. She’s amazing. I really hope you two can get to know each other more.”
“I do, too,” I say, this time genuine. Cassie and I used to spend more time together, studying and talking, sharing our mutual love for our majors. But after what happened last semester, I shut everyone out — her included.
Another wave of tequila rushes through me as my eyes find focus on my toes, and I finally let myself ask something real, bridging the gap between me and Skyler in a rare moment of vulnerability.
“Do you hate me for what I’m making you do?” I ask, my voice just a whisper. “Be honest.”
Skyler tenses, one hand still rubbing my back as her eyes fall to the floor with mine. “No,” she says on a long breath. “I mean, I’d be lying if I said it didn’t bother me to play him this way, but I want to be president. I want to keep our Greek line tradition. And I know that you would do the same thing for me.”
Her admission warms my heart, and I smile — because it’s true. I would do the same for her. There’s something special about the bond between sisters, and I know what she means by wanting to keep our Greek traditions alive. I know how much that want can grow deep within a heart, how deep the roots can be.
“It’s about sacrifice sometimes,” Skyler continues. “And I’m pretty selfish all the time, so it’s a good lesson.”
I want to argue with her, because in my opinion, Skyler is the least selfish person I know. But my words stick in my throat, and before I can fight back again, the tears I’ve been holding back pool in my eyes.
I wipe away the first tear before it can fall past the apple of my cheek. “Ugh, sorry. I’m such an emotional wreck right now.” I watch her, forcing a smile. “You just make me so proud, Little. You’re going to be an awesome president.” I swallow, knowing that if nothing else I’ve said tonight is true, that definitely is. “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” she says, wrapping me in another hug.
When we pull back, I eye her sweat pants, my curiosity from the entire night getting the best of me. I was horrified when I saw them both dressed in pajamas in public.
“What are you wearing?”
A laugh bursts out of her, and she shakes her head. “It’s a long story.”
But she tells it, filling me in on the night as carefully as she can. And though it burns to hear her talk about Kip, I feel a touch of comfort at the fact that the plan has been solidified again.
We know the next steps. And with the Valentine’s Day dance being just around the corner, I allow hope to bloom in my chest again, small and feeble, but blooming nonetheless.
Kip Jackson will be back in my life soon enough.
And then, hopefully, I’ll find happiness again, too.
THE NEXT MORNING, I somehow manage to peel myself out of bed just before sunrise. I’d like to say it’s paddle boarding that made it possible to survive on less than four hours of sleep, but it’d be a lie if I didn’t also include the blond-haired, blue-eyed boy waiting for me at the edge of the water.
The sun is still painting bright colors across the sky as I make my way toward Kip on the beach, paddle board in tow. It was a sick form of compromise that we agreed to — in exchange for me not staying with him last night, I agreed to show him how to paddle board today.
Stupid.
I knew I was in trouble after our kiss at Bella’s, but then the pier had happened. We walked around laughing and playing games like a couple of high schoolers, and then, with no one watching, with no fake proposal as an excuse, Kip had kissed me at the top of the Ferris wheel.
My heart flutters at the thought of it, though I try my best to hold its wings down to keep it from taking flight. It’s nearly impossible, especially now, staring at his back as he watches the sun rise over the waves. His hands are tucked easily into the pockets of his board shorts, his white t-shirt blowing in the breeze, bronze skin shining in the morning light, a brand new paddle board in the sand by his feet. The man is too beautiful for his own good, too sexy for me to even try to resist.
And I had tried.
But with him opening me up the way he is, asking me questions no one else ever has, breaking through walls no one else even knew existed… I’m helpless.
And at the top of that wheel, with his eyes on me and the lights casting him in a soft glow, it all seemed very simple.
I couldn’t not kiss him.
That’s just all there was to it.
Of course, I’d realized my mistake in the cab back to the sorority house, chastising myself for letting it go too far. And to top it all off, Erin had been waiting for me after our date, and she had the next part of her little plan in place. All I needed was one conversation with her to be brought back to reality, to be sobered up to what I was actually doing.
I have less than two weeks until the Valentine’s Day dance, until the night when everything with Kip will end.
Thirteen days.
So, maybe it’s a sick kind of self-flagellation, but I choose to ignore that ominous date when I should have it in the forefront of my mind. I choose to shove it down, bury it under the sand, and live in my fantasy a little while longer.
At least for today, I’m just going to enjoy the time I have with Kip. I’m going to pretend like we’re just a boy and a girl, enjoying the sunrise on a couple of paddle boards. It’ll all be fine.
Sure.
“Sorry I’m late,” I say when I’m close enough for Kip to hear.
He turns at the sound of my voice, his blue eyes widening a little at the sight of me as he scans me from head to toe.
“Yeah, you better be sorry,” he says with a grin, his gaze sweeping over the sunrise again as I sidle up beside him. “It’s half past early as fuck and we agreed to meet at the ass crack of dawn. Way to make me wait.”
I smile at his joke, dropping my board into the sand beside his. Without another word, and without a warning I probably should have given him, I strip my light blue tank top over my head and pop the button on my jean shorts, shimmying them down over my hips.
Kip watches my every move.
I know before I meet his eyes. I feel the heat of his gaze on my skin more than I do the rising sun, and when I finally look his way, I can’t stop my grin at his dumbfounded expression.
“You just going to stand there and ogle my boobs all day or are we doing this?”
“Can’t I do both?” he quips back quickly, and I shake my head with a laugh, making my way toward the water without checking to see if he’s following.
It’s been so long since I’ve been able to spend time on my board, I audibly sigh once we’re out past the easy waves and gliding on the smooth water as the sun rises over the beach. I start out on my knees, showing Kip how to catch his balance and maneuver the waves before we both stand. Surprisingly, Kip catches on pretty quickly, and doesn’t fall even once as we paddle parallel to the shoreline.
We’re both quiet for the most part, enjoying the sounds of the beach waking up — the soft crash of the water on the shore, the high chirp of the birds, the distant sounds of the ships coming to life. When I notice a thin sheen of sweat gathering on Kip’s defined abdomen, I nod toward a sand bar not too far away and we make our way toward it, both popping off our boards once the water is shallow enough.
We hydrate with the water I brought for us, both of us watching as more and more people make their way onto the sandy beach in the distance. Kip is quiet, but I feel him watching me, that same heat sparking on my skin like it did before when I stripped out of my shorts. Only this time, I hear questions he’s not asking, and it makes me more curious about him.
I try to talk myself out of more conversation. Just enjoy being close to him and keep that distance in place, I silently warn myself. But the more we stand there, the more I want to know. And when I cast a casual glance his way as I tuck my water bottle away again, I can’t help myself.
“So, what’s your story, Kip?” I ask as he leans his elbows over his board.
“What do you mean? My story?”
I shrug, wiggling my toes in the sand. The sand bar is a little mushier than the sand that lines the beach, but the water is crystal clear, and I can see all the way down to my pink toe nail polish.
“I mean, why did you move out here? Why did you transfer to Palm South of all places? Where are you from? What do you like to do? You know, besides lick tequila off strange girls.”
“Hey,” he defends quickly. “That was not my fault. And who’s worse off here — me or the strange girl?”
My throat warms, remembering the way it felt to have his wet tongue tracing lines on my stomach. “I think I got the better end of the deal.”
“And I tend to disagree.”
Kip’s eyes fall to my stomach, half of it covered by the water, and my cheeks flush. But I just watch him, waiting for his response to my question.
“Let’s see,” he finally says, looking up at the white, whispy clouds floating by us. “I transferred to Palm South because I wanted to get out of the Midwest. And because Palm South has a pretty decent screenwriting program, which is what I want to do with my life. It’s not the last stop by any means, but it’s a good transition.”
I smile, thinking about how Kip is in our Writing for Television class. It’s only been a few weeks and I already know I won’t be changing my major
to anything related to writing, but it has been fun to read his pieces, to listen to him talk about his passion with Dr. O’Neal.
“It also helps that I could get away from my dad,” he adds, his voice a little softer.
“Uh-oh, Daddy drama?”
Kip snorts. “Well, he’s an Army Major General, if that gives you any idea.”
“Yeesh,” I say, raising both eyebrows at that. “Sounds fun.”
“Yeah, real fun. I mean, I love him and everything,” he says quickly. “He’s my dad, he’s a good dad in the sense of the word, but he just wants to live his dream through me and I’m over trying to be what he wants. It’s nice to be out here away from his constant glare of disapproval.”
My stomach twists at that as I try to imagine being in his shoes. My family and I may not have had much, but we had love. My mom and dad have always been supportive of me, and though I help them with their bills, they’ve tried everything they can to get me not to do that. They want me to live my own life, to do what makes me happy. But helping them is part of what makes me happy.
“What dream?” I ask after a moment.
“Huh?”
“His dream?” I ask, cocking a brow. “That he wants to live through you? What is it?”
“Uh…”
Kip’s eyes widen, and I watch with curiosity as he scans the water with his breath coming a little harder, like he said something he wasn’t supposed to. Playing poker lets me pick up on peoples’ quirks easy, read when they’re uncomfortable or, worse, when they’re lying.
And something tells me there’s a thin veil of dishonesty over his next words.
“Being in a fraternity,” he says. “College, the whole thing. He went straight into the service after high school and I guess he always wanted to go. So he’s had this big dream for me ever since I was little. Perfect school, perfect fraternity, you know.”
He shrugs, his eyes still on the water as I watch him, trying to decipher the truth. It makes sense, what he said about his dad wanting that experience. Still… he’s hiding something.
I pop back up on my paddle board, stretching until my back is pressed against the warmth of it. I breathe in a deep sigh, letting one leg hang in the water as I reach out toward Kip with the opposite hand.
Legacy: A New Adult College Romance (Palm South University Book 4) Page 10
