by Diana Gardin
“What do you drink?” I asked. “Let me get your coffee.”
She furrowed her brow, staring at me.
“This isn’t a date, remember? You don’t have to buy my coffee; I can buy my own.”
“Of course. But I’d like to buy it. Consider it a non-date gift of friendship.”
Doubt etched a picture on her face, but she conceded. “I like lattes, any flavor. Surprise me.”
I could do that. I nodded and headed over to the counter. I stared at the menu carefully. Sweet and spicy sounded right for Paige. When I sat back down with her cinnamon dolce latte with nutmeg in hand, she smiled at me, and my heart picked up its rhythm. That felt better than nice. I wanted to make her smile again.
“Did you drive here?” I asked her.
“Gillian dropped me off, on her way to the library.”
“Good,” I nodded. “I’ll drive you home.”
She didn’t argue, which I kind of expected her to do. The fact she didn’t made me hopeful.
“Look, Paige,” I started.
“Why am I here?” she asked simultaneously.
We both chuckled. I had some explaining to do.
“I don’t usually do this,” I said. “Date, I mean. I mean I see lots of girls. We have a lot of parties and they’re just there. It’s easy. But since I saw you at the bookstore that day, I don’t know…I just wanted more.”
“More what?” she asked warily.
“More of…you. I want to know you.”
“Well, what do you want to know?” she asked. She settled back into her chair and sipped her coffee. With those green eyes directed at me, I had a hard time remembering the things I wanted to know about.
“Where are you from?” I swallowed the lump forming in my throat as I caught a glimpse of the imperfection on the left side of her face. “I know it’s somewhere near here. I hear the accent.”
“Gillian and I are from a town not too far from here,” she answered. “Simpsonville. About forty-five minutes away. We’re basically hometown girls.”
“I see,” I replied. How could I ask her about the scars on her skin without making her upset, or inserting myself too deeply in her personal business?
“You’re a freshman, right? So you’re eighteen?”
“Just turned twenty, actually. I had some…setbacks. Between finishing high school and now. So I’m starting college later than I would have liked.” She shifted her head so that her hair fell over the left side of her face again.
Hmmm. She did that a lot. She obviously didn’t like people looking at her there.
“Family stuff?”
She stiffened. Her body went rigid, and the hand holding her latte began to tremble. What did I say?
I reached across the table and grabbed her coffee, setting it gently down on the table. Then I got up and went to kneel next to her chair.
“Paige?” I asked urgently. “What’d I say? Are you okay?”
I was helpless as she closed her eyes tightly. After a few seconds, she opened them again and her beautiful green eyes focused on me.
“There you are,” I said softly. “I did it again, didn’t I? I want you to tell me what I shouldn’t say. I don’t want this to keep happening to you.”
I rubbed her back up and down, soothingly. I didn’t even think about it, I just did it. If she was upset, something in me was compelled to comfort her. Like it was my job. The fact that I was touching her so intimately wasn’t lost on me, but I couldn’t think about that now.
She blinked and smiled sadly at me. “It’s not your fault. I should go. This isn’t going to work.” She started gathering her books.
I placed my hand over hers. “Where are you going to go? I’m driving you home, remember?”
“I can call Gill—“
“Stop,” I interrupted her firmly. “If you’re ready to go, I’ll take you.”
I grabbed some of her books and put her bag over my shoulder. I led her to my SUV silently, sometimes sliding my eyes over to catch a glimpse of her as we walked. She was quiet, and her mood was off. She had cooled off considerably since we exited the coffeehouse, and that was saying something.
I had to find out what was going on with this girl.
Once I had her settled in the passenger seat, I climbed in the driver’s side and cranked the engine.
“Paige?” I asked.
“Yes?” She glanced over at me.
“Can you tell me something?”
“I’m not sure,” she answered, cautious now.
“You’re gorgeous. Epically beautiful. Why do you hide your face?”
She sucked in a breath and I wondered what she was thinking.
“I can’t talk about it,” she said in a strained voice.
Okay. She didn’t trust me yet. I could earn that. Tonight I wanted more out of her, though. I wasn’t ready to let her go yet.
“You want me to take you home?” I asked as I pulled out of the coffee shop parking lot.
“Yeah,” she answered. “I’m so sorry, Clay. You’re…I actually liked spending time with you.”
The surprise in her voice as she said that bruised my ego a little.
“I shouldn’t, but I do. I wish I hadn’t ruined it,” she continued.
“Why shouldn’t you like spending time with me, Paige?” I kept my eyes on the road, but I wanted more than anything at this moment to see her face.
“Because I don’t want to be one of the masses? Because you’re a player? Because I’m damaged goods. Pick a reason!”
“Damaged goods?”
“Really. You shouldn’t come anywhere near me. It’s your senior year of college right? I’m telling you right now, I have major emotional baggage. And you don’t want that. I know you don’t. Turn left here.”
I turned according to her direction and pulled up outside of her complex.
Then I grabbed her hand and held it.
“You think you’re the only one with emotional baggage? If I was normal, Paige, I would have a girlfriend, not one night stands. You haven’t met my parents. I understand baggage when I see it. You can’t scare me away that easily. Because--” I took her chin in my hand and leveled her gaze to mine.
“--the fact is, I want to know everything about you. You’re like a puzzle I want to put together, one piece at a time.”
“I’m going to be honest with you here, Clay. I don’t really believe you have it in you to put in the time it will take to figure me out.”
I smiled at her. “Then you don’t know me very well yet.”
She stared at me for a few seconds before shaking her head and opening her car door.
“I’ll see you around, Clay.”
I nodded. “Yes you will. Don’t be so surprised to see my next text.”
She paused. Then shook her head in disbelief. I’d show her.
As I watched her walk up the sidewalk to her apartment, I pulled my phone out of the console. Three messages from Hannah lit up the screen.
I deleted each one deliberately, without reading it.
And when I was home in bed that night, laying under a loose sheet and staring at my ceiling, I sent Paige a text message.
Clay: Even tho our night was cut short, I had an awesome time. Can’t wait for the next one. Oh, and it was a date.
Seven
Clay
I leaned back in my chair at lunch about a week after having coffee with Paige. We texted a lot, but I hadn’t been able to schedule another date yet. The guys from the team laughed raucously at something someone said. I wasn’t listening. I was scanning the room continuously. Paige and her friends ate lunch around this time, and I was going to ask them to sit at our table.
Rob leaned in close. “There’s Gillian.”
“What? Where?”
He smirked. “Thought that would get your attention. You’re see-through, man.”
I spotted Gillian, Paige, Maven, and Tima strolling through the dining hall, just inside the double doors. I shot out o
f my seat and jogged over to them.
“Good afternoon, ladies,” I said, pouring on the charm. “Your table awaits.” I gestured toward the table I had just vacated. I cringed when the guys burst into rowdy laughter because Drew had just pulled a chair out from under Chris.
“What’s this you’re doing, Clay?” Gillian waved a manicured hand around, indicating my whole maître ‘d act. She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “You’re inviting us to sit with you and your friends?”
“What?” I asked, the picture of innocence. “I’m merely offering you lovely ladies a place to eat lunch. It’s crowded in here. Would you like to join us?”
My eyes moved from Gillian to Paige, who was biting her bottom lip. Her eyes burned into mine as I searched them and a sizzling connection danced between us. I could almost feel my hair standing on end, a reaction to the electricity I felt when I stood near her. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth and I knew I’d won.
“Come on girls,” she said. “We do have to eat somewhere.”
“Uh-huh,” Gillian said, rolling her eyes. “As long as I don’t have to sit next to Drew.”
Leading them to our table, I pulled out the chair right next to mine and offered it to Paige. She sat, and I scooted the chair under the table.
As the girls made themselves comfortable with their trays of food, my eyes were stuck on Paige. She looked gorgeous today, with a plain white v-neck shirt that clung to her and a short denim skirt. She caught me checking out her legs, and I grinned widely, not the least bit ashamed.
“So,” I began. “Fancy seeing you here.”
“Yes, what a coincidence,” she replied. “You wouldn’t happen to have been waiting for me, would you Clay?”
Her eyes were doubtful, like she really didn’t believe that I had been waiting for her to come into the dining hall.
“Guilty,” I answered. “I wanted to see you again.”
“Well, you have my number. You didn’t have to coerce my friends into eating lunch with yours.”
“Well, this way, my friends get to reap the benefits of my persistence,” I explained.
Paige giggled. “And my friends get to suffer.” She looked pointedly at a glaring Gillian, who was sitting across from Drew. Drew was building a tower out of tater tots. Another one of the guys threw a meatball at it, sending tater tots scattering all over the table. One rolled onto Gillian’s tray and she gagged.
I groaned. “This is probably going to be a short lunch, huh?”
“Definitely.” Paige grinned, tasting a forkful of pasta.
“But am I proving my point?” I asked. “I told you I was willing to put time in to get to know you better. So while I have you here, you have to answer three questions.”
I leaned closer to her, close enough to smell her sweet aroma. I inhaled deeply, the intoxication of her scent taking over my senses.
“One question.”
“Two,” I demanded.
“Ugh,” she said. “This persistence thing is coming back to bite me. Okay, two.”
“I love it when I get my way,” I admitted proudly. “First question. Now, you’re going to have to dig deep to answer this one. I’m going to get really personal here. You ready?”
“No,” she answered warily. “But go ahead.”
I dropped my voice and leaned in closer. “What’s your favorite food?”
She burst out laughing, causing Gillian to look over in surprise. “That one’s really tough, Clay. My favorite food is fried chicken.”
“Ah, you Southern girls are so predictable! This is me, filing that away for later.” I tapped my head with my index finger.
“What’s question two?”
“Question two: what activity did you do in high school?”
Her face lit up. “I played soccer for my school team. I’ve been playing since I was four.”
“Now that, I did not expect. Why didn’t you say anything? We can bond over soccer!”
“Well I’m not playing in college, so the soccer world is kind of closed to me now. But I do love it.”
“This is awesome! Will you come to one of my games?”
“Sure.”
I imagined what it would be like, playing the game I loved with Paige in the stands watching. I had a feeling it would be amazing. And very distracting.
Paige
“So, I’ll text you and we can set up a time for you to come watch us play,” Clay said as we all walked along the sidewalk outside the dining hall. I kept my eyes on the slant-tile bricks as we strolled. “What are your plans for the rest of the day?”
“I’ve got a biology quiz coming up, so I’m going to study all day,” I answered.
He nodded thoughtfully. “Can I call you later tonight?”
I blushed, not expecting all of the attention Clay was bestowing on me. “If you want.”
“I definitely want,” he answered, flashing his hundred-watt smile at me. I tried so hard not to react to that smile, but my body had other plans. I immediately felt heat shoot to my midsection. Almost like he could feel it, Clay’s beautiful blue eyes darkened with an emotion I couldn’t place.
“Clay!” Drew called. “Quit acting like a douche and come on!”
He grimaced and our strange connection broke. “I’ll talk to you later.”
I nodded, smiling faintly. He jogged away to catch up with his friends.
I turned around to find Gillian, Tima, and Maven all staring at me.
“What?” I asked defensively.
“What do you mean, ‘what’?” Maven said. “You and Clay Forbes? You’re a thing?”
I shook my head. “No, we’re not ‘a thing’.”
“But you like him, right?” Tima asked. “He obviously likes you.”
“Yeah,” Gillian cut in. “Which is weird, because Clay doesn’t ever focus his attention on one girl like that. Did I hear him invite you to a game?”
The way they all looked at me like I had three heads was unnerving. “Yeah. It’s not a big deal. Can we go to a game?”
“I’ll go with you,” Gillian said. “But I think you like him.”
“You totally like him” Maven said. “It’s written all over your face.”
Tima nodded her agreement.
“Just drop it, you guys,” I muttered. “It’s nothing to worry about. I’m sure Clay will get bored with me soon enough, and then I can get back to being a nobody freshman.”
“I don’t think so,” Tima said thoughtfully. Her usually smooth forehead wrinkled with effort. “I’m telling you, Paige, I’ve never seen him act like this before. He’s actually pursuing you. He doesn’t usually need to pursue anyone. The skanks just fall in his lap.”
“Yeah, and then they have to deal with...” she trailed off, noticing Gillian’s frantically shaking head.
“Deal with what?”
“Hannah,” Maven answered.
Gillian shot her a death glare.
I hadn’t forgotten about Hannah. The night she pushed me into the bathroom counter and pulled my hair was fresh in my memory. It was true that the thought of pissing her off even more was terrifying. But everything had been kind of quiet on her front, and I hadn’t seen her since the party. It was a big campus. Maybe she wouldn’t even notice all the attention Clay was giving me.
And the attention warmed my soul. It fed my heart in a way that nothing else did. It was better than feeling so lost and alone all the time. I almost wanted to let Clay Forbes into my life.
Almost.
Eight
Clay
I could possibly be considered a stalker, but I didn’t give a shit. Paige Hill did something crazy to my emotions. My body almost ached for her whenever she was close. So I was damn well going to show up at a party I knew she’d be attending.
The fraternity house smelled of steamy sweat and stale, cheap beer. I hated frat parties. They were notoriously disgusting. Always packed with students and locals alike. Too dark, too dank, and too loud. I couldn’t hear
myself think over the pounding bass that resonated in the basement of the Kappa Sig party house.
I leaned around Rob’s bald dome and searched the darkness for Paige. From my vantage point on the rickety wooden steps, I could scan the entire basement. A packed house, complete with writhing, sweaty bodies, spread out before me. If I had Paige pegged correctly, she wouldn’t be down here.
