by Cindi Madsen
“We’ll see,” she said, her tone challenging, but I could see the cautious hope flicker through her big blue eyes.
And I told myself that no matter what—despite classes and games and the never-ending drama at home—I’d show her I meant it.
Chapter Twenty-One
Megan
“Where are you going looking like that?”
I spun to face Vanessa, a guilty look on my face no doubt. “I’m going to the hockey game.”
Vanessa closed the door to our dorm. “You can’t go to that game, especially in that get up.”
On one hand, I could tell she thought the flirty blue and maroon dress and boots combo was hot, but on the other, there was an accusation in there. “Since when is it a crime to look your best? And besides, my brother is on the hockey team, and I’m meeting his girlfriend there.”
“Oh, so you didn’t put on that outfit with Dane in mind?”
Maybe the boots, since I knew he liked them, but I wasn’t going to admit that to her. I reached for my brown cuff and then added a couple of long beaded necklaces. When I spun around, Vanessa had her arms crossed, making it clear she would wait for an answer until I gave her one. “It’s Friday, and I want to look good for wherever my night takes me. Whether it’s just the hockey game or not.”
“Fine. Then I’m going with you to save you from yourself, and afterward, we’re going to the Quad. Otherwise Dane’ll just think he can keep you on the back burner at all times. And you and I are not back burner girls.”
“But remember how Dane’s my friend?” I’d pretty much challenged him to prove it, and on Wednesday night he’d called me “just to talk,” and we had for a good hour, about nothing and everything. He sent me check-in texts throughout the week and sat by me in class—I’d been tempted to go to the diner last night to meet him, but Vanessa and I had already made plans, and I was doing the whole chicks-before-dicks thing.
My roommate didn’t stay up nearly as late as I did—and the girl slept like a rock—but we’d spent hours chatting and getting to know each other, often talking until the sandman came for her. Which only left me with a few bored hours to fill, and I used them to read my new comic books in an attempt to keep my resolve strong.
But admittedly: Me - spending those long, sleepless hours with Dane = missing him a whole heckuva lot
“It’s okay to go to a game and support my friend,” I added, wishing it came out stronger sounding.
“Sure,” Vanessa said. “But we don’t waste weekends and outfits like that”—she gestured at me, making a long oval that encompassed my dress and boots—“on friends. We go have ourselves a little adventure.” She moved to her dresser and grabbed a tube of lipstick. “And if the adventure includes snagging us a couple of guys, even better.”
“Is this because of Justin’s call last night?” After weeks of nothing, the jerk had called crazy late, asking Vanessa what she was up to. She’d said, Not you, and hung up. “If you’re looking to get under a guy to get over him, or whatever, I’ll totally be your wingwoman. But I don’t really need a guy of my own.”
“Pfft. I’m so over Justin.” The lid of her lipstick went on with a snap, punctuating her statement, as did her blood red lips. On her it worked; on me I would’ve looked like I was going to either work a street corner or dress up like a vampire. “Last semester this guy kept me on the back burner, always doing just enough to leave me hoping and waiting. In fact, he was why I jumped into Justin’s arms one night. I’d finally had enough and I went for the first guy who paid attention to me. From now on, I’m going to be the one in charge instead of settling for hoping and waiting. I’m making things happen.”
Hoping and waiting. A small part of me—maybe even a big part of me—was still doing that with Dane. Since he said that thing about hockey season, too, I couldn’t help hoping that after it ended, he and I could pick up where we’d left off the first night we met.
But that was over two months away—with how great they were playing, I had no doubt they’d make it to the Frozen Four tournament—and that was a long time to wait on a maybe.
“Remember what we talked about the other night?” Vanessa asked. “About how you were thinking about changing your expectations?”
During one of our chats, she asked about my checklist. I’d explained why I felt the need for it, and told her I was considering a change when it came to number five.
Vanessa shoved the clothes in her closet aside and dug through the shoes on the floor, her voice coming out muffled since she was faced away from me. “Didn’t you say you’d decided to be more open to seizing the moment?”
I had, but full disclosure, we’d also shared a cheap bottle of wine, and combined with barely sleeping this week, my decision skills had been subpar at best. “I said maybe I should.”
She spun around, her fingers hooked on a pair of patent leather black pumps. “And I said ‘hell yeah, you should.’ I’m not talking about hooking up with the first guy who steps into your path. But if a cute guy comes along, and you feel that attraction building, seize that hottie. Even if it’s just some grinding on the dance floor or a little making out.”
Heat flared across my cheeks at the thought, but it wasn’t all embarrassment. Some of it was intrigue, longing.
Vanessa stepped into her heels, adding four inches to her tall, skinny frame. “Megan, you can’t pine the semester away on a guy who just wants to be friends. Does that mean you’re not even going to kiss anyone your first semester of college? What kind of fresh start is that?”
My heart sank at that depressing thought—I worried Dane had ruined me for kissing other guys, but I wouldn’t know unless I tested that theory, would I?
“Do the math—the math you insisted on rattling off last night, when I was way too drunk to make sense of it.” She spritzed perfume in the air and walked through the cloud, coming out the other side smelling of jasmine and vanilla. “All I remember was your odds for the potential boyfriend thing were shit.”
Between the one third of seniors who’d been on fewer than two actual dates, the 72 percent who’d hooked up, and the 25 percent of who were still virgins—this all according to the tortuous Surprising College Statistics article I couldn’t stop pulling up—that left 3 percent who were in that potential committed-relationship range. And considering at least half of them were probably women, yeah… Not great odds.
“What?” I leaned against my bed and crossed my ankles. “You want me to say that you’re right? I provided you the facts, so I know you’re right.”
Guess it’s time to jump and make a bolder move with better odds—after all, math has never failed me before.
Gripping on to the excitement-inducing buzz building inside of me, I grabbed a Sharpie and my list, blacked out “Find a guy with boyfriend potential,” and wrote “Enjoy being young and unattached.”
All the qualifications got a big X, and then I scribbled, “Seize at least one hottie.”
Vanessa beamed at me and even dramatically flung a hand over her heart. “I’m so proud. Trust me, you’ll only feel worse if you dwell on the one guy you can’t have.”
Dwelling on Dane and how I couldn’t have him certainly hadn’t made me feel great. I liked the friendship place we were getting back to, though. Honestly, this seemed like a good solution. I got an awesome friend with a great sense of humor, who was loyal, and had a lot in common with me. With him, Vanessa, Lyla, and my brother, I didn’t have bouts of crushing loneliness, and avoiding that had been my main reason for adding the boyfriend thing.
So now I could have some causal, flirty fun with someone else. Win, win.
…
The hockey team won, but I hadn’t stuck around to congratulate them, since Vanessa told me that might come across as desperate. Instead I sent a congratulatory text to Beckett, and one to Dane with an added line about catching him later, and then Vanessa and I headed to the Quad. Once there, my roommate informed me I had to flirt with at least two guys to pro
ve I was making progress on my new goal. Who was I to question her methods? Plus, I needed a bit of a push once faced with actual living, breathing dudes, and no doubt she’d seen the wild, about-to-abort look in my eye.
I flirted with boy number one, but when it came down to it, there wasn’t much of a spark. Vanessa and I were on the dance floor when she leaned in and whispered, “Hottie at two o’clock keeps checking you out.”
I bobbed my head to the beat, swaying for a couple of seconds before letting my gaze drift to two o’clock.
I meant to keep on sweeping past him, but he shot me a sexy smile, and for the first time since arriving in Boston, I experienced a swirl of attraction over someone other than Dane.
The guy walked toward me with long assured strides. “Hi. I’m Trevor.”
“I’m Megan.” I tilted my head at my roommate. “This is Vanessa.”
“Can I get you ladies a drink?”
“Actually, one of my friends just came through the door. I’m going to go say hi.” Vanessa placed her hand on my shoulder as she leaned in and whispered, “Just text if you need me, and I’ll come crashing back in like the Kool-Aid man.”
I turned to Trevor, hoping my smile was more flirty than crazy-girl-on-a mission. “Guess it’s just you and me, then.”
His smiled widened and a flutter went through my stomach. “Perfect.”
We grabbed a couple of drinks and then leaned against the wall. Trevor played football for the college, and commented that he still trained enough to keep him plenty busy, but he was also focusing on his classes.
The “So I don’t have time for anything serious” was implied, but since I was no longer worried about that, I told him my life was hectic right now, too—he seemed to like that. When I confessed my interest in math and engineering, he ran his hand down my arm, just a quick brush of his fingertips that made my skin hum, and told me he thought smart girls were sexy.
He asked me to dance, and there was no holding back on his part, none of the complications I experienced whenever I got close to the guy I was so not going to think about right now.
I didn’t have to overthink things with Trevor. He made it clear he was attracted to me, and I could simply sway to the beat and enjoy the way he spread his hand low on my back, pressing me closer.
And just like that, I thought that if I were going to seize a hottie to have a little fun with, this guy seemed like the perfect candidate.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Dane
I was exhausted after the game, but most of the team said they were heading over to the Quad.
What I really wanted was a quiet night in with Megan. We’d talked this week, but she still hadn’t met up with me. I might need to do something bigger to show her I meant what I said about being a better friend.
She hadn’t stuck around after the game, and the glimpse I caught of her in the stands made me wonder why she was so dressed up. I hoped she wasn’t visiting one of the fun Boston places without me, since her text just said something about catching me later.
I combed back my wet hair, stuck on a hat, and called out to Hudson and Whitney to wait up so I could catch a ride with them. As we were pulling up to the Quad, I sent a quick text to Megan.
Me: What are you up to tonight?
Maybe she’d meet me at the diner. Or if she was going around Boston, I’d happily do that—I might even resort to begging her to come pick me up. Dancing, shitty music. Whatever it was, sign me up. I just wanted to see her.
No surprise, things were still a mess back home, and while the phone calls had decreased, my worry over everything hadn’t. As if the mess with Lissa wasn’t enough, Cassidy worried our parents might be splitting up. After spending twenty-five years together, I couldn’t imagine them not being married. But when I couldn’t sleep, my mind would replay the tension between them over Christmas break. I’d wonder how my sisters could possibly get through that unscathed, and my worries would breed like bunnies, which only made it more impossible to sleep.
Loud music poured out the open doorway to the Quad. I lifted my phone and stared at the screen for a minute or so, hoping Megan would write back. But when no response came, I stepped inside. Immediately, I got pulled into a game of flip cup. I begged off joining in on the second round, although I did take a beer for the road.
I checked my phone again. Nothing.
She said the other night she wasn’t mad anymore, but clearly she’s still pissed at me.
Hudson and Whitney left the dance floor, hand in hand, and I walked up to them. “Bro, I think I’m already over this party.”
“Whitney and I are probably going to head out in a few. If you want, I’ll drop you off at home before heading to Whitney’s for the night.”
I nodded. I missed having my best friend around more, but I was happy for him. He deserved someone who put him above everybody else, and Whitney did.
Whitney squinted, eying someone through the crowd, and her posture tensed. “Isn’t that Megan dancing with Trevor?”
I followed her line of sight, hot stabs of jealousy piercing me when I spotted Megan and some asshole—Trevor, apparently—dancing with her, his hands way too low. He kissed her neck, and rage like I never felt before ignited and spread, laying waste to rational thought. To pretty much all thought besides I’m going to kill that bastard, whoever he is.
“Dane.” Whitney put her hand on my arm, and I tore my gaze away. “Are you and Megan…?”
“No,” I said, too fast, but the knowledge also ripped through me. “I mean, we’re friends.”
“I don’t know whether I should say anything to her. I dated Trevor last year and he’s a total player. Says all the right things, but it’s bullshit. He uses girls and then moves on to the next without a second thought. I feel like I should warn her.”
Hudson tightened his hold on Whitney, taking a protective stance. “Maybe I should go have a talk with him.”
“I’ll talk to her.” I clenched and unclenched my fists, trying to calm the anger even as it roared up and said fuck that. She’s mine, and he better get his hands off her. “Like I said, we’re friends. I got it.”
Before they could argue or try to talk me out of it, I strode toward them. The song had ended, so they were leaving the floor. Panic rose up when it looked like they were about to take off together.
“Megan.”
She turned and her eyes went wide. Her hand was also in his, and I fought the urge to knock the smarmy expression off his face. It’d be so satisfying to just take a swing and watch him hit the floor. Six months ago, I probably would’ve. Sometimes trying to be a better person sucked ass.
“Can I talk to you for a minute?” I ground out from between my clenched teeth.
She glanced from me to Trevor, then back to me. “I’m kind of in the middle of something, Dane.”
Inhale. Exhale. Suppress urge to kill. “Please. I need to talk to you. Now.”
She let loose a sigh that apparently weighed a hundred pounds by how long it went on. She flashed Trevor a smile—the kind she usually gave me. “Can you hold on for a few minutes? I’ll be right back.”
He slid his arm around her waist, whispered something in her ear, and my rage shot to the boiling point—my muscles trembled from the effort it took to hold myself back.
I knew I had no claim on her. But I’d be damned if I was going to simply watch her walk away with some jerk who’d treat her like shit.
As soon as she stepped away from him, I grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the rooms where people went to hook up. When a couple was about to go into one, I shot the guy a glare, and he slowly backed up.
“Dane, why are you dragging me back here?” Megan asked. “Just tell me whatever you’re going to tell me.”
I pulled her into the room and slammed the door closed, double-checking we were alone before spinning to face her. “Don’t leave with that guy.”
Megan crossed her arms. “Excuse me? That’s really none of your business.�
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“He’ll just use you.”
“Maybe I want to be used, and to use someone right back,” she said. “Again. None of your business.”
I shook my head. “No you don’t. You want someone who’ll take care of you.”
“I want someone who doesn’t pull away every time I try to kiss him, and Trevor doesn’t.”
She started to go for the door, and I spun her around, both of my hands caging her in. She glared at me, and I glared back, my breath growing shallow, desire rising up and mixing in with frustration and jealousy and full-blown panic.
“I don’t need you to protect me,” Megan said. “I know you’ve got a big brother complex.”
I leaned closer, close enough to feel the heat radiating off her body. “Trust me, there’s nothing brotherly about how I’m feeling right now.” Another inch and we were hip to hip, my erection pressing against her, my self-control completely unraveled and laid at her feet. “This is more pure, animalistic, you’re-mine-and-I-don’t-want-any-other-guy-to-touch-you.”
Her breath escaped in one big whoosh and color rose to her cheeks. For a second she didn’t move, and I could hear my rapid pulse thundering through my head. Her hands circled my biceps, and I told myself if she yanked my arms down and moved to leave again, I’d let her go, even if it killed me.
Instead her fingers dug into the skin as she let out the tiniest whimper.
So I let go of what little restraint I had left and crashed my lips over hers.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Megan
The instant Dane’s lips touched mine, I lost my will to fight against the pull I felt every time we were in the same room.
A moan escaped my lips as his hips ground against mine. He thrust his tongue inside my mouth, his kiss turning urgent, hungry. I ran my hands up his firm shoulders and linked my fingers behind his neck, needing to hold on, wanting him even closer.
Stuttered breaths. Lips and tongues. Bodies pressed so tightly together that I could feel every hard inch of him.
