Completion (Cambria University Series Book 3)

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Completion (Cambria University Series Book 3) Page 18

by Sadie T. Williams


  “Why do you care about Chipper?” I throw his words back at him. “You dumped me with a text message.”

  He freezes and grips the pendant like a lifeline. “I’m sorry.”

  “Yeah, I got that from your text. That was low, Jess. Do you have any idea how hard that was for me? And then when we came to visit Lou. That night from hell?”

  He nods. “I don’t want to go anywhere else, Stanz. I will apologize to Dr. Dick Bag and make it right. Just don’t make me find another facility. I want to be here… with you.”

  “You can’t be acting like this,” I snap. “No more bickering between you two and no more talking about your conquests or our past.”

  “They’re not you, Stanz. The past is all I have. I haven’t been complete since I left.” His expression is pained and his eyes look sad, pleading with me to let him stay.

  “Jess, come on,” I whisper. His words practically split my heart in two because I feel the same way. I’ve been clinging to the past for far too long, a missing piece to my puzzle. The hole he left in my chest has never been filled. I haven’t been complete either.

  Then Jessup puts the mask back on and asks, “Does Doc know you’re engaged, or are you married by now? I haven’t seen any pictures of the sacred event. I’m guessing you haven’t told him because he wants you, bad.”

  “Shut up, Jess.”

  “Why wouldn’t he? You’re the whole fucking package and besides, I can tell Stanz. He’s intimidated by me because we have history and he wants your future.”

  I pause. What do I say to that?

  He continues, “Can we have dinner one night? I just want to talk. Catch up. If we can’t talk here, fine, I’ll be on my best behavior. Best patient you’ve got. But please, can we? I’ll even meet Captain Blondie beforehand so he doesn’t feel weird about it.”

  “I don’t think that is a good idea.” Every fiber in my being is screaming yes! But the logical part of me is shutting her down.

  “Listen, agree to dinner with me and I’ll make this right. I’ll apologize and I will do free press for your office. Dr. Dick Bag will love that.”

  “Can you start by not calling him Dr. Dick Bag? It’s Anthony or Dr. Colletti.” I smirk because Dr. Dick Bag makes my immature mind giggle.

  “Fine. Saturday at seven. I’ll send a car. Give me your number.”

  “First, when did you lose your manners? Second, I can drive myself.”

  “Sorry,” he sighs and rakes his hands down his face. He grips his pendant and tries again. “Can I please have your phone number so I can text you the details for Saturday?”

  “Yes, you may,” I laugh as he pats his boxer briefs pretending to look for his phone. “I’ll be sure to give it you after our session.”

  Just then the security guards enter the aquatics facility with Anthony on their heels.

  “Hey, guys. We’re good here. Jess, anything you want to say?” I nudge his bare shoulder and the contact of his skin sends a tingling sensation down my arm.

  “Hey, Doc, I mean, Dr. Colletti. I’m sorry for being a complete dick. Stanzy and I have a history and we haven’t seen each other in a long time. There is a lot of emotional baggage that we need to sort out, and this isn’t the place to do it. It won’t happen again. If you let me stay here to finish my rehab I will promote your clinic free of charge for a year.”

  Anthony pauses at Jessup’s change in demeanor. He doesn’t quite know what to make of it.

  “We good here, Dr. Colletti?” Marcus, one of the security guards, asks. “Do you still want him out?”

  “Um, we’re good I guess,” Anthony replies and the security guards leave. “My office. My rules,” Anthony snaps at Jessup before he exits the aquatics facility.

  “Got it, Doc,” Jessup smiles, sits on the edge of the pool and lowers himself in. I explain how this works and start the treadmill in motion. His caramel skin is glistening from the water splashing while he walks on the treadmill. Every muscle is flexing and taut. My lady parts are dancing in my pants with his every movement and I hate myself for it.

  Once his session is complete, Jessup dresses in the changing room before leaving. He makes sure to ask me for my number again before he leaves. My willpower around him already waning.

  I’m sitting in the employee lounge after he leaves, texting Staley with the update. I’ve filled her in since the beginning, but this is new.

  “Hey.”

  “That’s it? Just hey.” she replies.

  “No, Stay… Jess was here again. And this time he got into it with Colletti. Almost got kicked out and then asked me to dinner. He’s said he hasn’t been complete since he left.”

  “Left what? You? Cambria? His millions of hoes?”

  “I think he meant me.”

  “And you fell right back in, didn’t you? I’ve wanted you to reach out for years to get closure so you can move on. Not get sucked back in. I don’t want you hurt again.”

  “But it’s Jess.”

  “I’m sending you angry twin vibes.”

  “I know! But I said yes anyway. I want to hear him out. I have to. I saw a glimpse of the guy I remember.”

  “Hell hath no fury like a twin scorned.”

  “That not how it goes and you know it. I’m doing this to get closure and this will hopefully finally give it to me.”

  “Bull-fucking-shit. You’re justifying this to yourself because you know you’re falling in again. Every time we’ve seen him in the news or wherever. Every time he’s been blasted all over social media. #rhodesopen isn’t just a fun play on words.”

  She’s right. We’ve stalked his career and after we saw him at Cambria I should know better. The hashtag #rhodesopen is what jersey chasers use every time they’re with him. Let’s just say the hashtag is always trending.

  I let out a sigh. “I know, but this is it. For real this time.”

  “Whatever.”

  *Ding*

  A text pops up from an unknown number. It’s Jessup. He must have changed his number when he moved to Cambria because it is a Boston area code.

  “If you would like to meet me at my place at six, it would be a great honor. Then I have arranged for a car to take both of us to dinner at the TC Grill. I have reserved a private room, so we will not be bothered.”

  I assume he has to take these precautions or he will be hounded by fans and the media. I don’t want to be wined and dined though. I want to talk this whole thing through and to be done, right? Close the book. He’s been the demise of every relationship I’ve ever had, including the one I had with him.

  The battle is waging in my head and my heart, but I can’t let my heart continue to win.

  “Okay.”

  Way to stay strong, Stanzy.

  Chapter 19: Rhodes

  Senior Year – Cambria University

  “GOLD-EN KNIGHTS! GOLD-EN KNIGHTS!” the chants echo through the house so loud they even drown out the raging music pumping from the basement of the Pi Kappa fraternity house.

  This old Victorian home has been host to the best parties for us over the years, but this, this is our last party as a squad and the moment is bittersweet. The Cambria University Golden Knights football team has been my family for four years and I’m heading to the NFL next season.

  Blake, Bateman and I all got drafted this spring, a fucking dream come true. I’m headed to Minnesota, Blake is off to Los Angeles and Bateman is headed to Seattle. With Brooks already making a name for himself in New England, I’d say my boys and I lived up to the hype that started four years ago.

  The draft was a special night for all of us, fuck, Blake’s parents even showed up together. The only other time I’ve ever seen them was during our national championship game. We were planning on going together and then his girlfriend and his parents showed up. I was happy for him, but it just made me realize how empty my life really is, or will be, once my boys are gone.

  My parents didn’t even call or text when I went eighteenth overall. I got a few
texts from my siblings, but that was pretty much it. I was hoping Stanzy would have seen it and said something, but it was radio silence on her end like always.

  What was I supposed to do? Hey babe, it’s been a fucking century, but did you see I got drafted? I’m finally making something of myself so I’m good enough for you. Is your fuckboy still around?

  Fuck my life and my luck and shitty timing.

  “Last fucking hoorah, boys!” Blake shouts over the music and slaps me on the back. He hasn’t been to a party in a while because he spends most of his time with his girlfriend, Maisy, and she doesn’t party much. But tonight we all agreed to go as our final goodbye to Cambria.

  “It’s surreal,” Bateman acknowledges the moment while we stand in the entry way listening to the chants for a minute longer.

  We are always greeted this way when we walk into the Pi Kappa house. Chants, applause, solicitation from eager jersey chasers. My boys and I lived like celebrities and while I’ve never felt one hundred percent whole, this place and my boys made these four years pretty fucking amazing.

  We concluded our senior season with a huge win over Georgia in the Citrus Bowl back in December. I wish I could have called Rowen and told him to suck my ass, but he’s still not speaking to me. He’s still holding onto his grudge about me coming to Cambria instead of going to Georgia. I really wish I could have seen his face when we won. Rollie texted me that Rowen shut the game off and went to the bar. At least I know he watched when I torched the Bulldogs for three hundred and thirty-eight yards and three touchdowns. It was a career day for me and it felt like fucking redemption.

  I’m going to miss you fuckers next year,” Jaxon Taylor feigns a sniffle. Jax took over at quarterback this season with Mac’s departure to the NFL after our national championship. It was a blessing in disguise for me really.

  Mac was an air-it-out quarterback last season, and while I still got touches, I didn’t do anything spectacular during our championship season. This season though, with a new QB1 under center, I fucking lit it up.

  I rushed for over two thousand yards and scored twenty-two touchdowns. I also dominated at the combine. I ran a four-three-six forty yard dash which is the best I’ve ever ran it. The Vikings liked what they saw and since I was still on the board with their pick they snatched me up. I think I’ll like it up north. Their fans are already buying out my jerseys and I have my own hashtag already, #rhodesopen. It’s a play on words meaning my running lanes are open and I’m ready to dominate the field.

  But, this. I’ll miss this with my boys. I have no regrets about coming here even considering everything I lost in the process. We had a helluva ride - partying hard, playing hard, and making memories with my boys who are now my family.

  Tonight’s different though because a lot changed in the few short years we’ve been here. The vibe is different.

  Brooks is gone, Blake and Bateman are both seriously attached. Blake, who I thought was going to die at the beginning of the semester turned his shit around in a major way. He made some serious moves after he fell in love with a Cali girl. She hit him like a Mack truck he didn’t see coming even though we all did. Bateman has been attached for years to a pretty awesome chick we all like. Me? Well, I’m still trying to figure out where I keep fucking up.

  This time last year I was dating Tori and don’t get me wrong, she knows how to work a dick. It’s not like the sex was bad, but it wasn’t two-becomes-one, making love to my best friend good. We were only together a few short weeks and I felt immeasurable guilt by sleeping with her. Unrealistic because Stanzy aren’t together, but it still felt like cheating.

  I grab the football pendant under my shirt. Fuck. I feel so fucking guilty about it that it makes me sick to my stomach.

  “Shots?” Blake asks, eyeing me suspiciously. “You look like you could use a few thousand. Thinking about next year?”

  He can tell something is wrong, but he also knows I don’t share much. I’ve been there for him, offering solid advice, and he always says he’s here for me too. Saying it out loud makes it real and right now it’s just a blip on social media. It’s not real. But maybe saying it out loud will finally let me move on.

  “Nah, I just need some booze,” I say as I try to not let the negative thoughts creep into my mind and ruin our last party.

  We walk through the massive living room, which was once probably a very nice place to entertain, but now is filled drunk college kids and old nasty furniture the frat boys found at a thrift store. The dark wood floors are always sticking from years of spilled alcohol and God only knows what other bodily fluids.

  The kitchen is spacious with white cabinets and a huge center island. The kegs sit in the corner, the bar is in in the butler pantry and the spiked punch is in a large bowl on the island.

  Blake grabs a bottle of Jack Daniels and we set up shots on the end of the island. I may have cemented my reputation on this campus last year because I’m apparently immune to hangovers, but my secret isn’t anything special. Vodka/Gatorade hair of the dog. Works every single time. The problem, that I’m not totally ready to admit, is that I drink it every day, not just to cure my hangover anymore.

  You’d think living the life we did, being drafted, seeing my goals actualized, that I’d be walking on cloud nine.

  Wrong. One little hashtag crushed my entire universe, #shesaidyes. Chipper, the ultimate douchenozzle, posted a picture of the most perfect little hand with a massive diamond attached to it. How do I know it was Stanzy’s hand? That they didn’t break up and he got engaged to someone else? Because on the finger right next to the massively stupid piece of pressurized carbon was a silver infinity band.

  My breath caught in my throat and I almost threw up on the spot. My ring next to fucknugget’s ring. Two worlds collided and my world was obliterated.

  That brings us to present. World crushing, suffocating, blinding pain caused by one stupid fucking hashtag.

  I toss a shot back and as I lower my arm to set my shot glass back down I feel a hand caress my forearm. Tori Ann Watley. Or Watts to those who know her well. My first revenge fuck, not that Tori cared or Stanzy even knew about it. Tori is the female equivalent of Donovan Blake. Stellar athlete, total slut.

  I thought girls were supposed to fall for the good guy. The guy who treated them like queens. Not Tori. She wanted my dick and nothing more. My fake reputation had preceded me and unlike the jersey chasers who were satisfied with a finger fuck or a tongue lashing, Tori was not. After we slept together once that’s all she wanted from me, but I wanted more.

  Tori is not the commitment type. She spread her fucking legs for every dude that summer who glanced her way. No apology. Just picture after picture on Instagram of her boozing with her friends and kissing random dudes.

  Since then, Tori has avoided every party, event or gathering where she knew I would be this entire year. Honestly, it was for the best because Tori was not it for me. She’s demanding and bossy, which, if you’re into that sort of thing is fine. Me? Not so much. I like the perfect combination of sassy and sweet, with honey hair and eyes that look like an Irish poem - hazel, green and gold.

  “Shouldn’t you be deep throating a frat boy right about now?” I quip. I can’t believe she’s here.

  Tall with auburn hair and a smoking hot body, she is a stunner. Last spring when Mac introduced us, I had every intention to be a gentleman and date her properly, until Chipper’s Clipper invaded my Insta-feed and Tori made it quite clear what she wanted from me.

  Am I a hopeless romantic? Deep down, yeah, I am. For the last couple years I’ve watched my roommates meet their soulmates and fall in love. I’m happy for them, really. But fuck, I want that. I had it with Stanzy and sometimes I think I’m cursed to never love again. I want to be in love so bad that I forced with Tori. Especially knowing that Stanzy is in love again. I craved it.

  “Bro,” Blake whispers as he eyes Tori’s hand massaging my bicep. He shakes his head and fills my shot glass back up with mo
re Jack. He knows I’m going to need it to survive this.

  “Rhodes, how’ve you been? Miss me?” she asks and flashes me her sweet smile. A smile that looks like sugar, but will poison you if you eat it.

  “Good,” I reply coolly, ignoring her second question. She must be fucking hammered if she’s asking me that. I throw back my shot that Blake just poured. Few hundred more of these and I should survive this conversation.

  “Again,” I nod toward glass and Blake fills it up. “Cheers, motherfucker,” I offer and clink my shot glass to his.

  “This is gonna get fucking ugly,” Blake murmurs but reciprocates my cheers. Regardless of his comment, he fills me up again. We’ve been here no more than twenty minutes and I’ve lost track of how many shots we’ve had.

  “Shut the fuck up, Blake,” Tori snaps.

  “No, Tori, you shut the fuck up,” Blake begins but I cut him off.

  “I thought you calmed down since Maisy took your balls,” she retorts and raises an eyebrow at him.

  “Will you two knock it off? You’re ruining my buzz,” I try to squash the hostility. “Fill it up, Blake.” I know Blake is just protecting me because even though he projects the image of a heartless prick, he’s not. He’s loyal as fuck and will defend his friends with his dying breath.

  After spending hours upon hours talking with Blake about Maisy, pulling him out of a massive downward spiral, and then watching them work through their issues, and there were many, I allowed myself hope that maybe one day Stanzy and I would cross paths again. We’d fill in the blanks of each other’s lives. I’m incomplete and I have been since I left for Cambria.

  “Rhodes, baby, I wanted to talk to you,” Tori begins and I can hear Blake audibly groan. She flashes him a death glare, but he ignores her and pours me another shot.

  “You’re gonna need this one too,” he offers. “I’ll leave you two at it. I’m going to find Maisy. She came here with Roommate about an hour ago.”

  Roommate is the very adorable nickname Blake gave to Maisy’s roommate, Millie, because he couldn’t remember her name for the longest time. Now it’s turned into a term of endearment that she actual likes and that’s how we all refer to her.

 

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