Give In

by Layla Frost

  “Oh, yeah, that sounds easy enough,” I muttered sarcastically.

  “I mean, feel free to wear what you want. I’m just giving you my advice.”

  “No, I need it. Clearly.”

  My dating history was limited to when jeans and a tee would’ve been acceptable. Dating as a quasi-adult felt like a totally different ball game.

  Her proud mother hen look returned as Tonia began a rapid fire of her sage wisdom. “Some girls wear skirts or dresses on a regular basis, so that’s fine for them. But if you don’t, jeans are a good, safe choice.”

  I’m guessing the skirts I wear at work are not what she’s referring to.

  Hopping up, she headed for my closet. “Since jeans are so low-key, you can go a little nicer with the top. But since it’s a casual first date, you don’t want to be too dressy, either. There’s a whole hidden science to it. Let’s see what you have.” In two seconds flat, she held up a pair of black skinny jeans. “Bam, done. These with your dark gray, knee-high boots.”

  “They’re behind my door.”

  She grabbed them and shook her head. “I wish my feet weren’t two sizes bigger than yours, or I’d borrow them and,” she lifted her hands to do air quotes, “forget to return them.”

  “And I’d totally pretend to believe you as I stole them right back.”

  “It’d be worth it.” She quickly slid hangers as though she were Black Friday shopping an already picked over and underwhelming seventy-percent off rack. Stopping suddenly, she pulled a tank top out. “Oh, I love this. It’s so girly.”

  The dark gray top had a deep rounded neckline that was surrounded by pink ruffles. It wasn’t overboard fussy, but it was more than I normally wore.

  “It’s been an Indian summer, but it’s still September,” I pointed out. “Isn’t it a little cold for that?”

  “Not with a sweater. Let’s see.” She continued her perusal of my limited wardrobe. “Nope. No… no…wait… this is cute, and I want it. Nope. Here!” She pulled out a black, short-sleeved sweater. “It’ll balance it out. You’re gonna look cute. Cute, without looking cutsie.”

  I held the pieces together and agreed. “Perfect.”

  She gave me a cocky smirk. “I know.” Narrowing her eyes, she scanned my face. “I can’t believe how good your makeup looks. No offence, but when I saw your sprawl of a million neutral palettes, I kinda figured it’d be boring. Like, so neutral it was barely there. And then you were flying through the steps, I was looking for makeup wipes in case your face ended up looking like an abstract painting. But it’s amazing. Subtle and glam. It takes me forever to do mine, and it never looks that good.”

  “I’ll teach you as a thank you for helping with the outfit.”

  Being on stage under all the lights and layers of sweat meant I’d needed to learn how to apply and touch-up my makeup fast without it looking caked or cheap. Setting sprays were a gift from makeup heaven, as were YouTube tutorials.

  “Deal.” Tonia’s smile dropped as she trudged toward my door. “While you’re on your dream date with a dream hottie, I have to memorize music. It’s awful. My ears want to bleed.”

  I grimaced. “Good luck.”

  After I dressed, I looked in the mirror and bit back a giddy giggle.

  I looked…

  Normal.

  Like a regular woman going on a regular date with a regular guy.

  For a moment, I could almost forget I was overworked and frazzled. I could almost relax the muscles between my shoulder blades that were so tight, I forgot what it felt like to not have the constant ache. I could almost forget how emotionally raw I was—on edge to the point of physical pain.

  I’m giving myself today to pretend. I have no past. There’s no Sinners. No school.

  No Professor Caine.

  Smiling at myself, I grabbed my things and left to be normal for once.

  *******

  Walking into the restaurant, my eyes scanned the already growing crowd before landing on Brooks.

  Tonia is my hero right now.

  The restaurant was really nice—not fine dining, but not one of the student frequented places I’d been expecting. Had I worn jeans and a tee, I’d have felt uncomfortable the whole time.

  Even Brooks was wearing an untucked button-down and jeans, neither of which were wrinkly.

  Maybe it was a sign of my low standards, but I was impressed with his wardrobe and restaurant choices.

  The already good start got even better when his eyes landed on me and widened. A cute grin spread across his face before he dipped to kiss my cheek. “Wow. You look pretty.”

  “Thanks, you, too.” I internally cringed. “Not pretty, whatever the guy equivalent is. Handsome! You look handsome.”

  Shut up.

  Brooks’ smile grew at my nervous babbling. “I knew what you meant.”

  Once the hostess led us through the restaurant and we were sitting in a booth, Brooks asked, “Have you been here before?”

  Yeah, I come here all the time with my copious amounts of spare cash and time.

  I shook my head. “Have you?”

  “A few times.” He paused before hurriedly adding, “Not with dates or anything. Usually I’m just having drinks with friends before going to the movies. Not that I drink a lot. I mean, I like to have fun, but—”

  “I knew what you meant. Are you nervous, too?”

  “Very,” he admitted with that refreshing honesty he had. “I was cool as a cucumber when we were having coffee. But now that it’s a date? Yeah, not so cool.”

  “Same. So, since we’re both nervous, we should be not nervous. Right?”

  His eyes dropped to my smiling mouth as he murmured, “Right.” Suddenly clearing his throat, his tone sounded overly cheery. “What’re you thinking of getting?”

  Transitioning into typical first date conversation, I chose my answers carefully and deflected often.

  I told him I worked as a server in a small place—not a total lie since I did deliver drinks sometimes.

  He shared that he did odd jobs for extra money, but between his financial aid and the help from his parents, he was able to focus on school.

  Forgetting my promise to enjoy the date, my shoulders went tight as I wondered what that would be like.

  Don’t let them dull your sparkle.

  “I bet having job variety must be fun,” I said, getting myself on track.

  The beer the server had dropped off helped, too.

  “And there’s never a shortage, so I can work when I need.”

  The server interrupted to take our order. When she left, the conversation stayed light, which let me relax.

  Again, the beer helped.

  Mostly, though, it was just good to feel normal. Day drinking with a cute boy before going to see a movie.

  After we ate, the server brought the check, and I pulled out my wallet to pay half.

  Brooks shook his head. “I asked you which means I pay.”

  “So, if I ask you, I get to pay?”

  “Nope.” His smile turned playful. “But I like that you’re thinking about asking me.”

  Like Brooks, I didn’t bother to play it cool. I embraced my free day, ignored everything else, and just grinned as we stood.

  I took a step, but was halted with a hand around my wrist. Turning back toward Brooks, my grin faded, and a questioning expression took its place.

  His gaze moved from my mouth to meet mine. “I really want to kiss you. Can I?”

  Pulling my lip between my teeth, I nodded.

  Have to release the lip for him to kiss it, dummy.

  Oh. Right.

  As soon as I freed my trapped lip, Brooks lowered his head and pressed his to mine. The kiss was quick—more than a peck, but not much.

  It was… nice.

  There was a tiny bit of sizzle, but no crackle. I tried to ignore the niggling disappointment.

  Maybe there will be sizzle and crackle if we kiss longer.

  Reaching for my ha
nd, he held it as we headed for the door. Once we were outside, he kept looking over his shoulder.

  “Expecting zombies?” I asked.

  He chuckled. “Worse. I think I saw Caine in there.”

  Ice ran through my veins, and the tension I’d been ignoring was back.

  Tenfold.

  I forced my voice to sound nonchalant. “Really?”

  “With a brunette. I don’t think he saw us, though.”

  Stupid illogical jealousy clenched my stomach even as my shoulders slumped with the knowledge we hadn’t been seen. That in and of itself was stupid because it wasn’t any of Professor Caine’s business who I dated.

  I have such little control over my life, even my own emotions are a tangled mess.

  “Isn’t it weird how much it throws you off to see a teacher outside of school? Especially on a date.” He shrugged, unaware of the pain that was slicing through me. “I guess I kind of figured he haunted the campus, scrawling notes on everything with his damn red pen and never leaving at night.”

  Oh, I know where he goes most nights.

  I felt my cheeks flush but steeled my spine.

  Whatever the deal was with Professor Caine, it was done. Sure, he’d continued to be a dick at school. And, yes, he’d seen me nearly naked. But he’d stopped visiting Sinners, and he was on his own date.

  I wasn’t about to let him ruin mine, even if just in my head.

  Doing what I did best, I buried my head in the sand. I ignored the unease and jealous burn that filled me and focused on Brooks. “I remember when I saw a teacher leaving their house once, it messed me all up. I really thought they just lived at school.”

  “I think most kids think that.”

  “Yeah,” I deadpanned, “but I was a senior.”

  Brooks threw his head back and laughed, using his hold on my hand to pull me closer.

  When we got into the theater and found our seats, the lights started to dim. As the previews began, Brooks leaned closer to whisper, “Can I put my arm around you?”

  Well, that’s… underwhelming.

  Nice, though.

  Yes, totally nice.

  I nodded and scooched forward so he could drape his arm across my shoulders.

  See? He’s being respectful. At least he didn’t fake a yawn and drop his arm around me.

  That would’ve been too cringy, even for me.

  I watched the whole movie like that, cuddled under his arm. It was safe and warm and…

  Nice.

  As was the goodbye kiss he gave me after he walked me to my car. There may not have been much sizzle, but I had hope.

  “That was one of the best dates I’ve had,” he said, opening my car door. “You’re so uncomplicated.”

  If he only knew.

  I gave an awkward laugh. “That’s me.”

  “Do you want to do it again?” he asked, not playing the wait-three-days game.

  “Definitely.”

  He gave me his charming smile. “I’ll see you in class tomorrow.” Leaning down, he kissed me sweetly. It wasn’t sizzle and crackle yet, but it was definitely a melty kiss. “Bye, Eden.”

  “Bye, Brooks,” I whispered before getting into my car.

  Giddy and happy, I headed home.

  Half a day really isn’t long enough to pretend my life isn’t a mess.

  I deserve two or three…

  Centuries.

  Chapter Six

  * * *

  Sizzle and Crackle and Natty Ice

  Eden

  “Hey, gorgeous.” Brooks dropped his bag next to mine and bent to kiss my cheek.

  Surprised by the random show of affection, I turned my wide eyes to him but couldn’t help smiling. “Hi.”

  And I was worried.

  Maybe a bit.

  Okay, fine.

  I couldn’t sleep.

  The night before, Brooks and I had gone out again for dinner. I’d been riding the high of my fake normalcy, trying to stretch it out as long as possible.

  Preferably forever.

  I’d only made it to Tuesday.

  Because as I’d sat across from a cute boy, laughing at his cute boy stories, it’d felt all wrong.

  I wasn’t the normal girl he deserved.

  I didn’t have the time nor energy to pretend to be that girl.

  It was selfish of me to continue wasting his time.

  It’d felt like the walls of the restaurant were closing in on me, suffocating and oppressive. I’d tried to choke down the words, clutching desperately to my façade.

  But they’d pressed upward, choking me until I’d had no choice but to open my mouth and spill my limited truths.

  In a long, breathless rush, I’d told Brooks I couldn’t be anything more than casual. We could still see each other, but it’d be no strings attached.

  I’d blamed my work. My hectic schedule. I’d shown my regret and hid my lies.

  Brooks had taken it well. He’d been open about his disappointment, but not in a guilt trip way.

  At his sweet understanding, the truths I’d kept in had stabbed my heart, mocking me. Taunting me with my own stupidity.

  Because it wasn’t just my schedule or secrets that kept me from enjoying time with Brooks.

  It was my selfishness.

  Growing up the way I had, I hadn’t seen sizzle and crackle. Hell, there hadn’t even been an occasional burst of heat.

  Cold, cold, cold.

  Determined to live differently, I’d promised myself sizzle and crackle. I’d vowed to never settle, refusing to give up my dream of all-encompassing heat. Of love and passion, wild desire and blind want.

  I liked Brooks, and he made me feel… nice. Which was good. There were people who would be thrilled with nice. I should’ve felt lucky to have it.

  But I wasn’t. I needed more.

  My promise had been naïve when I’d made it, and it still was then. By keeping things casual, I was potentially throwing away something good so I could chase a feeling I wasn’t sure even existed.

  Looking up at him in the classroom, I wished again that I could’ve ridden the high of normality for a little longer.

  As if reading my mind, Brooks said, “I know you said Saturdays are busy at work, but there’s this party—”

  “I’ll call off,” I blurted impulsively, my want beating my common sense.

  Brooks’ brows raised, as did the corners of his lips. “Really?”

  No. Tell him no. Back-pedal like there’s a demonic snake on the path.

  “It sounds fun,” I said.

  “Awesome.” He sat and leaned closer. “I’ll pick you up at seven.”

  “Can’t wait,” I whispered as Professor Caine began speaking. Biting my lip, I tried not to grin as I looked at my laptop.

  I’d never missed a shift, but I wanted to go drink cheap beer and hang out with a cute boy.

  I wanted one last chance to play make believe.

  *******

  “All-knowing Wardrobe Expert!” I yelled to Tonia, flipping through my closet. “Frat party is totally jeans and a t-shirt thing, right?”

  A few seconds later, she filled my doorway, looking wise and enigmatic as she flipped her hand. “Totally. Or not.”

  “You’re loving this, aren’t you?”

  “I really am, yes.”

  “Super helpful, thanks.”

  Taking pity on me, she imparted wisdom like a fairy godmother of fashion. “Frat parties are a mix of everything. Girls bust out their miniest of minis. Others go opposite and wear sweats. There’s an old joke about how you can tell which year a girl is by how she dresses. The freshmen are done to the nines, while seniors are in their PJs. Anything is acceptable.” She nudged me out of the way. “Let the master work.”

  I started on my makeup as Tonia paired pieces from my closet, switching them out until I lost track of what she had spread out on the floor.

  “Why don’t you come with?” I invited.

  We were both so busy—our schedule
s usually opposite—we rarely got to hang out. When we did, it was a reminder of how much I was missing out on.

  She grimaced before flopping onto the bed with an audible oomph. “I wish, but I’m busy tonight. Brooks’ frat is infamous for their hotties, and you know hot guys have hot guy friends. Their parties are legendary for the eye candy. I’ll expect all the details tomorrow.” She sat up suddenly. “Oh, we’ll go shopping.” Before I could respond, her eyes landed on my clock. “Crap, I’m running late. Don’t forget a single moment of tonight.”

  “I won’t,” I called to her retreating back.

  After doing my makeup and hair, I quickly changed into the outfit she’d set out for me. A fitted dark blue sweater that went way off one shoulder. The entire back was lace, making my black bra underneath visible in the right lighting. Tonia had paired it with a pair of distressed skinny jeans and soft black heels that had a bow near the peep-toe.

  I’d bought the shoes to dance in, but I hadn’t wanted them to get all scuffed and torn so I’d never wore them.

  Pretty and delicate things were easy to ruin.

  Slipping them on, I didn’t worry about wearing heels to a party where I’d be drinking and on my feet. Compared to the teetering ones I danced in, they were practically tennis shoes. Even drunk, I could go for a run in them without wobbling.

  I packed my bag and paused to check the mirror one last time.

  Good girl gone bad.

  Tonia really has a knack for reading my vibe.

  *******

  The ride with Brooks had been like all things with Brooks.

  Light.

  Fun.

  Easy.

  As he drove, he’d told me a little about his frat. I’d been so engrossed in tales from the other side that I hadn’t even noticed we’d arrived until he’d pulled over to park on the packed street.

  I opened the door, but before I could stand, he was there, offering me his hand.

  “Thanks.” My nerves went wild, which was stupid. I could get practically naked in front of a full club without blinking, but a simple party had me sweating.

  When Brooks shifted to walk next to me—though he kept hold of my hand—I got my first real look at the neighborhood.