The Forsaken Saga Complete Box Set (Books 1-4)
Page 152
“Andrew… that’s so sad,” I whisper.
He shakes his head. “No, it’s not. Jordan and I are literally best friends now. If a genie gave me three wishes, none of them would be to change my past. It made me into the person I am today.”
I nod without saying anything. It seems Andrew and I are more alike than I ever imagined.
“I knew, eventually, that I would have to go to school,” he continues. “When Jordan became old enough, I promised myself I’d go to university. In the meantime, I got my high school diploma online. Even took a few college courses to ease the workload when I got here.”
“Well, you did it,” I smile. “You got everything you were after.”
Andrew locks eyes with me. “Not everything,” he says softly.
My insides clench up. His story is touching and heartbreaking and so sad, but… it does not change things between us.
Andrew stands up, and turns to the window to look outside. “That’s how I ended up a peer leader. They let me into the program because I was older. And the undergrad credits I got before let me enroll in the graduate school here. Part-time. I study psychology. I want to help people with their problems.” He turns toward me. “That’s how Katy and I met.”
I swallow. Maybe Andrew and I can still be friends. He trusted me enough to pour his soul out. I just need him to understand that our relationship cannot go past that. “Okay.”
He sighs and spreads his hands. “That’s all I’ve got, Paige. That’s my best explanation. I know it doesn’t matter what I say, but I promise I did not sleep with Katy. The first night I came here, we talked. Maybe I kissed her. But it was wrong. I felt so guilty about it. Then yesterday…”
He trails off and looks into the distance. “Yesterday, I wasn’t thinking straight. Something came over me, I don’t know what. But I am so happy that you were there to stop me.”
“Yeah.” I run a hand through my hair and start splitting the strands. “Thank you for telling me all of that. I imagine it must have been quit hard.”
“Not if it meant that I could repair things with you,” he says in a soft voice.
“Andrew…” I stand up. I walk behind the counter to create a physical barrier between me and him. “Andrew, I appreciate your honesty, but I think you and I are looking for two different things.” I fiddle with a drawer handle. “You think we can go back to where we were a few weeks ago. But I can’t just pretend the interim didn’t happen.”
“Nothing happened, Paige,” Andrew stresses. He takes an aggressive step toward me. “I swear it on both my life and Jordan’s.”
“Some things happened,” I correct. I try to look everywhere except at him. “Some things I can’t forget.”
“Paige.” Andrew walks slowly around the counter and touches my arm. “Kiss me,” he whispers.
I bite my lip as I look up at his beautiful face, so full of sincerity. From the moment he walked into my life, this is what I thought I wanted.
Sure, Andrew might have his flaws, but he is safe and wholesome. Deep down, he’s… well, he’s nice. Nice and necessary.
I’m sure he’ll make some girl very happy. I’m sure he’ll settle down and have five kids and teach all of them how to do the right thing, always. They’ll all be beautiful and nice and wholesome and… dull.
Katy was right before. Dating Andrew would be like dating your parents. Andrew will make some girl happy.
But that girl is not me.
I crave more than nice. I want somebody who challenges me. I want somebody who forces me to grow. To adapt. I want somebody who brings excitement into my life.
Logically, I thought Andrew was the obvious choice at first. But after seeing the real Spencer, I’ve come to realize that my mind knows so much less than my heart.
“Kiss me,” Andrew repeats, edging closer. His voice is soft like the hue of a flickering candle.
I close my eyes and look away. I hate doing this to him, but I have to follow my heart.
“I’m sorry, Andrew,” I whisper. “This isn’t what I want anymore.”
He blinks is disbelief. “What do you mean? You said you’d wait until January. You said we would be together.” His finger tilts my chin up so I meet his eyes. “Right?”
My heart aches in my chest. I can hear the hurt in his voice. My mind reels for some way to do this better. “Andrew…” I try again.
He looks at me, searching my face… and grimaces. “Oh, I get it.” His jaw tightens. “You want Spencer. After everything I told you… you still want Spencer.”
I can’t tell him yes. I don’t want to confirm it. The last thing I want is to cause even more animosity between him and Spencer.
Andrew steps back and starts pacing the kitchen. “So you have a thing for ‘bad boys’ now, do you, Paige?” He sneers when he says the words.
“No.” I shake my head. “No, that’s not it.” I lean back against the counter. I don’t like the shift in Andrew’s tone. I cross my arms.
“Come on, Paige, don’t lie to me.” He stops and glares, his eyes burning like red embers in his skull. “Be honest. You do. Every girl does!”
I cross my arms. “No—”
“What if I were a bad boy, too?” he suggests, his eyes never leaving mine.
The deep intensity emanating from him frightens me. I cross my arms to shield myself. “That’s not you,” I say.
He takes a deep breath, struggling against something. I wonder absently how we went from that day at the lake—where he seemed so easy to read—to now. I have no idea what he’s thinking.
He takes an aggressive step toward me. “That could be me,” he says. “If that’s what you want.”
“I want you to be yourself, Andrew. You don’t have to—”
I’m cut off as he yanks me into his arms and pushes his lips against mine. My protests come out muffled against his mouth. I keep my lips shut and thrash around in his hold.
His grip weakens, giving me the opportunity to wiggle free. I cower back against the refrigerator door, covering my mouth with my hands and looking at him, wide-eyed.
It was never this way before with Andrew.
He stands, unmoving, as his chest rises and falls with heavy breaths. His hands are stiff at his sides.
He looks at the hand over my lips. His eyes soften, and some of his intensity subsides. “Paige, I’m so sorry.” He clasps his hands over his forehead. “I… I don’t know what got into me. I thought you wanted someone assertive. Someone who doesn’t ask. A guy who just takes.”
I shake my head No.
He sighs, then takes a step back, giving me space. I let my hands fall.
“You expect me to act like the man you know,” he says, his voice hushed. “And that’s what I’m going to do. Right now, that means me leaving.”
I keep my eyes glued to the floor as I listen to his footsteps trail out of the kitchen. I wait to hear the front door shut.
Then, I sink down and start to cry.
Chapter Twenty-Five
I feel awful.
Andrew walked out the door half an hour ago. I still haven’t found the strength to get up.
I should be angry with myself for letting someone as good as Andrew walk out of my life. I should care more.
But, I don’t.
The lack of feeling probably tells me something right there. But the way Andrew grabbed me, tried to kiss me… It was all so forced.
He’s not like that. And I’m not one to respond to an act.
I’m also pretty sure that I’m falling for Spencer.
I shouldn’t be falling for Spencer. I’m never going to be enough for him. He’s used to girls with experience, something I have none of. He’s used to girls who are confident and sexy and strong. Not ones like me, who don’t even know how far they want things to go.
I force myself to stand and wander over to the couch. I keep waiting for Katy to come back. I really need to talk to my friend.
Pickles, bless his little heart, must hav
e thought I was beckoning him. He jumps up on the couch next to me and crawls onto my lap. There, he curls into a tight ball and leans against my belly.
I shift my legs, trying to get him off. He doesn’t budge. He readjusts himself, making it clear that he’s not going anywhere.
I reach out to feel his soft fur. I start to rub his neck. He purrs, and the sound calms me.
“You’re the best friend a girl can have,” I whisper to him. “Unfortunately, your advice on boys is limited.”
He settles closer to me. The warmth of his body makes me more comfortable. There’s no better therapy than a loving pet when you’re feeling down.
Still, I need to talk to someone whose advice I trust.
I turn my attention to my phone. I go through my contacts and land on Katy’s number, hit dial, and bring the phone to my ear.
It rings. And rings, and rings. And rings some more. Then, it goes to voicemail.
I hang up and try again. I need Katy to answer. I need to talk to her.
My second attempt ends the same way. So does my third.
I nearly chuck my phone into the wall out of sheer frustration. She’s not gone yet!
Then a new thought hits me.
I’m not sure what compels me to go through my contact list again. I’m not sure what compels me to hit dial. Most of all, I’m not sure why I stay on the line when my call is answered on the second ring.
“Hey!” Spencer’s voice is bright and cheery. I hear music and voices—a lot of voices—in the background.
I don’t say anything. The phone slips through my fingers and falls to the side.
“Paige, you there?” I hear a rustling noise, as if he’s moving away. He yells, “Guys, shut up!”, and when he returns to the phone, the background noise has faded. “Paige?”
I force myself to pick up the phone and bring it to my ear. “Hey,” I manage weakly. It feels weird to talk to him now that I don’t have Andrew to hide behind. It kept Spencer at a distance. Now, there’s nothing stopping me but myself.
Spencer immediately picks up on my distress. “Paige, what’s going on? You sound awful. Did something happen?”
“No,” I lie, shaking my head back and forth as if he’s right there to see. “I just… I just wanted to talk, Spencer.”
“Is everything all right?” His voice is full of concern. “You’ve never called me before.”
“I know.” I rub at my nose with the back of my hand. “Spencer? Can I… Can I come and see you? In person?”
He chuckles, seemingly relieved. “Is that what this is about? Are you calling to ask me for a date?” He lowers his voice. “I find it damn sexy when a girl takes the initiative.”
“No, it’s just—” I stop short.
I change what I was going to say. “Yes.” I force a laugh. “Yes, that’s exactly what it is.”
Spencer doesn’t answer for a long, drawn out second. When he does, that concern is back. “Are you sure? You sound… different. Did anything happen?”
“I’m just nervous calling you, I guess.” I can’t believe I just admitted that. “You can be pretty intimidating sometimes.”
My freaking mouth just doesn’t want to stop.
He laughs. “I’ve heard that before. So, what’s up? Do you want to go somewhere tonight?”
“No!” I flinch at how quickly I answer. “I mean, I want to see you. Now.”
“Now?” I can hear his widening smile. “I can do now. Are you at your place? I’m hanging out at the frat with the guys. I can be over in a few minutes.”
“No,” I say—again, too-quickly. But I don’t want to spend any more time than I have to in this apartment. Not right now. “I’ll come to you. I’ve never met your friends before.”
He laughs again. “Knowing them, I’m not sure I want you to.”
I chew my lip, debating what to say next. I do not want to stay here.
Spencer answers before I can. “All right,” he says. “You can come here. Just text me when you’re outside. Oh, and I have to warn you. After the party last night, the house is a mess. Actually, I’m pretty sure there are laws against guys bringing girls here for their first visit when it looks like this.”
That makes me smile. “I think I can handle it, Spencer.”
He chuckles. “Right. See you soon.”
“Bye,” I whisper, then hit end.
***
Ten minutes later, I’m walking alone down a crowded street. I pass a large grass field that’s taken up by two teams playing ultimate Frisbee. I take a second to stop and watch them, curling my hands around the waist-high wooden fence that separates us.
I find Spencer on the steps leading to the front door at Sigma Pi. He’s wearing a black tee and red sweats. It’s a departure from his typical wardrobe. It makes him look relaxed and decidedly unintimidating.
As I get closer, I notice the bags under his eyes. His hair is messier than usual. He doesn’t see me as he puts a hand over his mouth to stifle an enormous yawn.
“Hey,” I call out from across the street. Seeing him reenergizes me and pulls me away from the dark thoughts of my mind. “Did you spend the night here?”
His eyes light up when he sees me. He leaps down the steps and meets me halfway. I’m taken by surprise when he pulls me close and kisses my cheek. Surprise turns into warmth when he slips his hand over mine.
“Hi,” he says. “I’ve missed you.”
“I can tell,” I smile, pleased with his honesty. “Even though it’s been less than a day.”
He laughs. “You’re like an addiction. You know they say the first three days are the worst. I need my fix.”
“So if I wanted to get rid of you, all I’d have to do is disappear for three days?” I tease.
“That’s one way to do it,” he pouts, pretending to be hurt. “Although something tells me you wouldn’t like that anymore than I would.”
“No.” I nod to the frat house. “So, this is the famous Sigma Pi, huh? I’ve never been inside without drunk frat boys all around me.”
Spencer chuckles. “Trust me, it isn’t much different during the day. Today, least of all.” He hesitates at the door. “Are you sure you want to come in?”
“I seem to recall an invitation from you.”
“Yes, but—”
“Then I’m sure.”
Spencer sighs. “All right. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
He opens the door a crack. I’m greeted by the stench of stale beer. I wrinkle my nose automatically.
Spencer notices, and pauses with his hand on the handle. “Last chance to change your mind…”
I duck under his arm and enter the house.
The lobby of Sigma Pi is large, just like I remember, but today it’s so much… grubbier. Spencer wasn’t kidding about the mess. There are plastic cups, beer cans, and empty handles all over the floor.
At least someone had the presence of mind to sweep a path through the rubble from the door to the main hall.
Spencer closes the door and motions around us. “Welcome to my second home.”
I hear laughter from down the hall. Lots of laughter, from a lot of male voices. “Sounds like the party’s still in full swing,” I quip.
Spencer puts his hand on the small of my back and leads me in. “You’ll see.”
We walk down the hall toward the voices. At least the place seems cleaner the farther in we get.
My stomach does a flip when we enter the living room. There is a sea of unfamiliar faces lined up along three couches crowded in front of a gargantuan screen. Their focus is on whatever shooter they’re playing, so they don’t notice Spencer or me as we walk in. I’m glad . First impressions have never been my forte.
Spencer tries to sneak me to the stairs leading to the second floor without attracting attention. It doesn’t work. A guy sitting at the edge of a couch looks up and sees us.
He hoots. “Hoy, Spencer! Who’s that with you?”
His comment draws everyone�
�s attention. I feel twenty pairs of eyes on me. I shift, a little uncomfortable. Spencer groans.
“Damn, Spencer, you forget house rules?” another guy laughs.
“Shut up, Travis,” Spencer barks.
“Oooh!” a chorus of voices answers.
The guy who saw us first stands on the arm of the couch. “I think Spencer did forget, boys!” he calls out. “Should we remind him?”
Callous laughter and boorish barking erupts from the guys. Spencer glares at them. “Derek, shut the fuck up! Sit down!”
Derek, ignoring Spencer, starts to wave his hands around in the air as if holding a baton. “Ready?” he asks his brothers. “And a one, and a two…”
Twenty out-of-tune voices fill the air in a half-chant, half-song:
Mondays to Wednesdays for class,
Thursdays and Fridays for chasing ass,
Parties on Fridays for hos,
Saturdays only for bros!
Everyone breaks out into wild laughter at the end. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Spencer turning red. He takes an angry step toward his brothers.
“How could you forget, Spence?” Derek accuses, trying hard to hold in his laughter. “You were the one who came up with that song!”
That pronouncement is followed by even more laughter. I feel Spencer seething beside me.
“Fucking hell, that’s ENOUGH!” he screams, loud enough to be heard over everyone else.
The laughter dies. Some of the guys look at Spencer, astounded. Others look confused. For a long, tense moment, the only sound I can hear is Spencer’s heavy breathing.
Acting on impulse, I step around him. “I have a question,” I say out loud. Those eyes turn on me again. I swallow and speak before I can chicken out.
“What are Sundays for?”
Derek blinks. For a second, I think I’ve overstepped some invisible boundary.
Then he falls back into the couch and starts laughing uncontrollably.
Everyone else takes his cue. They start laughing with him. Not out of hostility, but mirth.
“You,” Derek says, pointing a finger at me, “are all right. What’s your name?”