by Hazel Kelly
“Good,” he said, handing it back. “The bliss that awaits you will be all the sweeter for it.”
“I'm going now.”
“Taking your damn time, too,” he said, smiling.
I groaned and got out of the car, stepping carefully so I wouldn't slip on any fresh ice, which I had limited experience navigating.
When I felt secure on the sidewalk, I turned and lifted my orange juice in a show of friendly thanks as a weird feeling knotted my stomach. Two years. That's how much extra time he'd been playing the game, and it was obvious that I was no match for him. Hell, just the thought of his abs and his dimple and his hair made me feel as ditzy as I probably looked with my bright blonde hair.
“What about Carter?” Sadie had asked.
I watched his car leave the lot before heading inside, feeling confused by what a gentleman he'd been to me. Unfortunately, there was no way of knowing which was the real Carter. Was he the womanizing frat boy who would chug just about anything if somebody started a chant? Or was he the ranch-loving gentleman who made it his business to make sure I had a warm place to stay and got home safely?
Or maybe he was both and giving him my number was going to be the biggest mindfuck of my college career.
I moved quickly down the narrow hall to my room and unlocked the door, exhaling a sigh of relief when I saw that Zoey wasn't there. Of course, before I even had a chance to change into some casual clothes, I heard her key in the lock.
“Hey,” I said, trying not to sound awkward.
“Hey.” She registered that I was in last night's clothes before moving her eyes to my takeout cup. “You just get back?”
I nodded.
“Where did you stay?”
“Sadie's,” I lied. Not that I knew why. I guess I just didn't know how to explain my platonic sleepover with Carter, which I felt strangely embarrassed by for some reason.
“And you went to McDonald's?” She slung her purse over her bedpost and collapsed like a dummy across her bed.
I sucked on the straw until it made that horrible noise that meant I was out of juice.
“I thought Sadie hated McDonald's.”
Oh shit. “She does. She got Dunkins.”
“Gotcha.”
“Sorry I didn't bring you anything. I figured you'd grab something with Logan.”
She sighed. “I was going to, but I lost my appetite when I saw how trashed the house was.”
“That bad?”
“Worse,” she said. “Then he lost his temper with some sophomores over a broken window, and I decided that was my cue to leave.”
“Understandable.”
“When did you meet up with Sadie?” she asked. “We didn't even get pizza sticks till after two.”
“Don't remind me.” I lay across my bed without bothering to change my clothes.
“Tell me about it. There was one in the bed between Logan and me this morning.”
“Threesomes already? I figured you guys wouldn't tire of each other for at least a few more months.”
“Good one.”
I rolled my head towards her.
Her eyes were closed.
“You about to nap?”
“So hard.”
“Cool.”
“Goodnight, Nina.”
I smiled to myself. It certainly had been.
E I G H T
- Carter -
I stared at Nina’s profile pic and leaned back in my chair. Why didn't I just call right away?
I could've kept it casual, whereas now it had been too many days for me to call for no reason.
I had to have something to say.
Not that I normally felt that way, but normally women weren’t that conflicted about giving me their number. Her hesitation had thrown me. Why did she have to make such a big deal about it?
Now I was fucking doubting myself when all I wanted to do was hear her voice…especially the way she said my name in that sassy tone when she was trying to put me in my place. I needed more of that in my life.
I clicked through her photos one after the other, and while I wasn't looking for anything in particular, I couldn't help but notice the distinct lack of men in overly friendly positions, which was bittersweet.
I mean, I didn't think she was frigid. I found her personality to be as warm as her barely-there Southern twang. Clearly, though, she wasn't one of those girls who had been throwing herself at guys since she hit campus last fall, which intrigued me.
She could have any guy she wanted. She was ridiculously hot. Not to mention confident and funny. It was hard to imagine a more attractive combination of qualities.
When I finally noticed she was wearing green in nine out of ten photos, I couldn’t help but smile. Not that I could blame her. Her sparkling green eyes were unlike any I'd ever seen, and I'd be lying if I said I'd never wrapped my hand around my cock and imagined what they'd look like blinking up at me.
Fuck.
I really didn't want to want her this bad. I didn't want to want anyone this bad. As far as I was concerned, relationships were as exhausting and messy as they were unnecessary. Yet, deep down, something told me I was playing with fire when it came to this girl.
After all, if she ever did succumb to my advances and admit to wanting me back, would I be able to keep things casual? It was hard to guess. Then again, I had no reason to believe she wanted anything serious, so maybe if we were both on the same page…
I startled when my phone rang, but my pulse settled when I saw it was just my brother.
“Hey. What's up?”
“Jack shit, to be honest,” Kellan said.
Not that I believed that. The guy had been juggling side hustles since I was eight and wouldn’t know a day off if it smothered him with a couch cushion.
“Does that mean you didn't fuck any students yet?”
“Don't mock me,” he said. “It's harder than you think.”
“Whoa. Too much information.”
“You know what I mean.”
I leaned back in my chair. “You knew it wouldn't be easy.”
“Yeah, and that was before I realized how lazy and entitled the average college student is.”
“You're one to talk.”
“Whatever,” he said. “At least I got my shit done and didn't object to being graded.”
“I want to feel bad for you, but I still don't understand why you even decided to teach.”
“I told you. I need access to the lab for another two years to finish my research on the plastic-eating enzyme—"
I snored into the phone.
“Never mind.”
“Seriously, though. Hang in there. I know teaching little shits isn’t your first choice, but I'm proud of you for giving it a go.”
“Not exactly the pep talk king.”
“Call Dad if you want a pep talk.”
He laughed. “You mean a listen with absolutely no pep?”
“Right.”
“Speaking of which, he's convinced he found the perfect summer internship for you.”
“Good of him to tell you.” I wondered what the job was. Probably something soulless that involved wearing a silk noose around my neck.
“For what it's worth, I told him I thought you had other plans.”
“Thanks.”
“Not sure he heard me, but-”
“I'm sure he didn't.” Not that he was a bad guy. More like an understimulated dictator.
“You want to grab a beer this weekend?”
I froze when Nina's name popped up on the right-hand side of my computer screen beside a little green dot. Do it. Send her a message. Anything is better than letting her think you aren’t thinking about her.
I clicked the message button and stared at the blank box of potential at the bottom of the screen.
“Well?” he asked.
“Are you going to bitch about grading papers the whole time?”
“Not the whole time.”
“Sure.”
“You still allowed to go to student bars?”
“Don't be stupid.”
“Seriously, what if you run into a student or something? No one wants to think teachers have a life outside the classroom. That's the worst.”
“You trying to get me to hang up?” he asked. “You're not, like, inside some chick right now, are you?”
“Two actually, and I really don't want to be scarred by busting to the sound of your voice.”
“I'll text you Friday.”
“Can't wait.”
I hung up and let my fingers hover over the keys, deciding I should stop being a pussy and send any message already. Sorry I haven't had time to take you frolfing this week. Things have been kind of crazy…
The alert that she was typing popped up on the screen. It has been difficult to fill the time.
Sarcasm. Typical.
Maybe we can meet for drinks this weekend and discuss a practice schedule that suits us both?
Yeah, along with a location since it's the middle of winter, and the only thing that sounds less interesting than frolfing in general is frolfing in mittens.
Agreed, I wrote. Besides, extreme frolfing is a different sport entirely, one we'll have to build to.
Can't wait.
Do I detect some sarcasm?
No, she typed. This is my excited voice.
Oh man. You have no idea how long I've been waiting to hear your excited voice.
Silence.
Was that an innuendo? she asked. Because it was really bad.
Like so bad it's good or just bad?
The latter.
I'll try to up my game for Saturday.
Let's hope so.
I smiled.
You'll be at Trey's birthday party, I take it?
Of course, I said, though I'd totally forgotten about it.
Cool. See you there then.
Not if I see you first.
That one actually hurt.
It was supposed to.
What? she asked.
Perfect excuse to kiss it and make it feel better.
Wow.
One side of my mouth curled up. That's what she said.
Goodbye, Carter.
It's never a goodbye when it comes to you.
What?
More like a badbye.
Where do you come up with this stuff?
Why? I asked. You want some more?
No.
I don't believe you. I chewed on my lip. I think you like the attention, and I think you like me, too.
Not as much as you like yourself, I assure you.
Either way it's a start.
Start of what?
You'll see.
Gotta go. Teacher just gave me the dirtiest look ever.
Not as dirty as the one I'm going to give you at the bar on Saturday.
Goodbye, Carter.
Badbye, I thought. Badbye.
N I N E
- Nina -
I clocked Carter as soon as we got to the bar. Not that there was anything unusual about that. He was almost always the center of attention.
On this particular occasion, he and another guy had hoisted the birthday boy into the air and were carrying him around on their shoulders while Trey took swigs from any cup or bottle held within his reach.
“I forgot it was his twenty-first,” Zoey said while she waited for me to get my hand-stamp, which featured a red circle with a slash going through a martini glass. It was supposed to keep the bartender from serving underage students, but all it really did was encourage us to finish our drinks faster.
“What?” I shouted, the pumping music rattling my chest.
“Trey,” she said. “He's twenty-one.”
I looked across at where he was bouncing on his frat brothers’ shoulders. “He looks blacked out already.”
“What do you want to drink?”
I considered my belly full of pre-game vodka tonics. “Stick with the same?”
She nodded, like she thought that was a brilliant idea, and I laughed at her enthusiasm while she blatantly looked for Logan.
Naturally, he was leaning against a brick wall on the other side of the bar, very much on the fringes of the area the rest of his friends were taking up.
We spotted him at the same time.
“I'll meet you at the bar,” I said, starting to feel the music.
She weaved her way around the shot girl in front of us and started towards him, and I unintentionally witnessed the face he made when he saw her, which was so fucking sweet I wanted to puke.
It was like a mixture of being pleasantly surprised and overwhelmed with relief. Like he'd been holding his breath since they last parted. And it wasn't like he only looked thrilled because of how hot she looked in the little red dress I let her borrow, because she wasn't even tall enough for him to have seen that yet.
Her smile alone was enough to make him that happy.
I looked away as soon as I realized I'd been staring and turned my attention towards the bar, a destination that could only be described as bittersweet. Not that I didn't love a drink. I just wasn’t crazy about the conversations I usually had to put up with to get one. Fingers crossed Zoey and Logan weren't far behind.
As usual, some guy sidled up to me as soon as I leaned an elbow on the bar. “Hey,” he said, angling towards me so I could appreciate his This Is My Party Shirt shirt.
I crossed the ankles of my skinny jeans and flashed him the fakest smile ever.
“What house are you in?”
Aaand there it was? Not what's your name? Not how's your night going? Just what house are you in? I knew the right answer, of course, and it wasn't admitting I wasn’t in one. After all, he’d behave much better if he thought I had sixty hot sisters nearby. “Kappa Psi Delta,” I lied.
He scrunched his face. “I don't know that one.”
“It's very exclusive,” I said. “The rush process takes years.”
“Years?”
I might as well have been talking in riddles for how twisted his face was.
“What did you say it was called again?”
Shit. I couldn't even remember what vodka just said. I mumbled some more Greek letters, but I must've accidentally named a real sorority this time because the warmth in his expression disappeared.
“Oh.”
Clearly I’d given the wrong answer or he would’ve started name dropping to see if we had any friends in common.
I glanced across the oval-shaped bar and found Logan and Zoey at the far end, lost in each other's smiles. When I turned back, Carter was shoving the guy I'd been talking to out of the way.
“Get lost, Austin,” he said, shaking his head. “And learn some fucking manners, would you? Can't you tell this beautiful girl is thirsty?”
I lifted my eyes to Carter's and felt…what? That I'd missed him? “I was talking to that guy.”
“Then you were wasting your time.”
“And I'm not talking to you?”
He lifted his chin at the bartender, who came straight over like there weren’t fifty other people vying for his attention. “Can I get a bottle of Bud and-” He turned to me and raised his eyebrows.
“Vodka tonic,” I said, holding my stamped hand out of view.
He ordered my drink and then turned towards me, his broad shoulders dwarfing me in a way that made the bar feel quieter and smaller and…safer somehow.
“Now where were we?” he asked, unapologetically checking me out, his eyes warming the skin on my bare shoulders and collarbone before popping back up.
I wanted to be annoyed at his blatant lack of tact, but I liked the way he looked at me. Like he was admiring me rather than sleazily undressing me with his eyes… Which made me wonder how the latter might feel. “You were just being overbearing, and I was about to tell you off.”
The dimple near his eye deepene
d with amusement. “Perfect.”
I furrowed my brow. “What?”
“That's just what I need,” he said. “I'm so sick of women throwing themselves at me and begging for it all the time.”
I rolled my eyes.
“I need someone who can put me in my place.”
I cocked my head. Surely there was only one place he was interested in being put. Not that I could blame him. His T-shirt sheets were pretty dreamy.
“Speaking of which, where are you sleeping tonight?”
“Carter.”
“Because if you need a place to crash…”
“Look, just ’cause I stayed over last weekend doesn't mean it's going to happen again.”
He smiled like he knew something I didn't.
“Why are you making that face?”
The bartender set our drinks down, and Carter was too quick with his cash for me to chip in.
“Thank you.”
He left a few bucks on the bar and shoved the rest of his change in his wallet.
“Thank you,” I repeated louder to make sure he heard.
He leaned down to whisper in my ear. “Thank me later.”
“Carter.”
“Nina,” he said, mocking my tone.
“This isn't like that,” I said. “We're just friends.”
“I know,” he said, leaning an elbow on the bar. “Which is why I care so much about making sure you have a safe place to crash.”
I groaned. “You're so full of it.”
“Full of what?”
“Beer,” I said, glancing at his drink. “And who knows what else.”
“We're taking this party to the house soon,” he said, his eyes falling to my lips.
“Bit early for an afterparty, isn't it?”
“Yeah, stupid early,” he said, glancing over my shoulder. “But the birthday boy is going to drop any minute, and I promised I'd get him home safe.”
“What a gent.”
“So what do you say?”
I glanced over my shoulder and saw that Logan and Zoey had a spare drink in front of them with my name on it.
“Just one drink,” he said. “In a place where I can hear your gorgeous laugh.”
“There's a line I haven't heard before.”
“Say yes, Nina.”
I fixed my eyes on his and tried to decide whether I liked his attention or was merely flattered by it.
