One Wrong Move (Kelley University Book 2)

by Meredith St. James

  Vinnie's face was red but his body language settled enough that I didn't think there was any immediate danger. I found myself taking up for him, "Actually, the owner of the place even mentioned that he only drinks soda here."

  "That better be all he's drinking anywhere. Otherwise, I'd be more than happy to talk to John about your scholarship." I vaguely remembered my brother mentioning a John Kasey, the university's athletic director. I assumed that was who he was talking about.

  Annoyance flashed across Travis' face.

  "What the hell are you two carrying on about?" I asked in exasperation. The two of them were acting like total baboons together.

  I'd expected Vinnie to answer but Travis was the one that spoke up first. "I have a morality clause with the university as part of my scholarship. Officially, it just means I can't raise any general issues. Unofficially, I'm more specifically not allowed to drink in any capacity."

  My jaw dropped. "You had to stop drinking?"

  "In theory, yes." Travis paused like he wasn't sure about the next part. "But I actually stopped drinking after…"

  He trailed off, and I didn't need him to fill in the blanks. I still had vivid memories of that night with him when he'd quite nearly killed the both of us. He'd been so drunk that night, and I'd genuinely believed that would be how he'd spend the rest of his life—however long that might have turned out to be.

  "Sorry to interrupt this whole re-hashing of the past, but this isn't the time or place for it," Vinnie butted in. He nodded his head towards the door as a rowdy group of guys entered.

  The group was obviously from the university, and I could imagine Vinnie didn't need any scandal coming from the football program in the first month of him taking over the program. Obviously, Travis' reputation from home somehow hadn't followed him to the university. I didn't want to be the one to fuck that all up. Not for my brother or for Travis.

  "Anyway," I changed the subject for them. "Gabby's having a barbecue Monday and would like you to come."

  "Really?" Travis seemed both surprised and apprehensive. I caught him sparing a glance in Vinnie's direction.

  "Yes, of course. I was thinking you could bring Laurel, too."

  "Laurel?"

  "Yes, is she free?"

  "I have no idea." His bewilderment was confusing to me. Did he seriously not care enough about his own girlfriend to at least vaguely know her schedule? A tiny, mean, jealous part of me was thrilled by that fact.

  "Well, find out, okay?"

  "Yeah, I mean I guess I can ask her."

  Vinnie checked something on his phone and stood. "I gotta get going, Ronnie. You're home for dinner tonight, right?"

  "Yep."

  "Alright, see you after work, then." He shot one last warning look in Travis' direction before actually leaving. I had a feeling he didn't want to leave me alone with Travis, which meant that it had to be something pretty important pulling him away. I made a mental note to ask him about it later.

  Once Vinnie was gone, Travis gave me a slow once-over. His eyes practically caressed my body. Even though I was wearing a plain t-shirt and jeans, his gaze made me feel like I was standing in front of him naked.

  "Stop looking at me like that." I crossed my arms as if that would somehow stop him from freely checking me out.

  "Like what?" He smirked.

  "You know what you're doing," I scolded.

  "With you? I'm not so sure." His tone had gone serious. Uncomfortable, I turned away to fix him a glass of Coke. He hadn't asked for it, but it gave me something to do as a distraction.

  Lucky for me, by the time I set the drink down in front of him, he'd turned playful and started cracking jokes. He stayed on the stool for a couple hours—through the end of my shift. We talked and laughed, and I did my best to let go of wanting more than that. But when he walked me to my car, I couldn't help feeling a little disappointed that he parted with only a friendly wave.

  Travis

  "I still don't understand why I was invited." Laurel nervously toyed with her chunky necklace.

  "I don't know." I knocked firmly on the dark wood of the front door. "Ronnie doesn't really know anyone around here yet, she's probably just trying to meet people."

  Laurel raised an eyebrow. "She didn't seem all that eager to get to know me at the bar."

  "We hadn't seen each other in three years. She was upset about running into me. That had nothing to do with you. Think of this as a fresh start. Maybe the two of you will become good friends."

  She didn't disagree, but I could tell from her blank expression that she wasn't counting on it. Honestly, I'd just been trying to make her feel better. Ronnie inviting Laurel struck me as odd, too. The only reason I'd ended up bringing her along was because I was hoping she'd be a buffer so that Vinnie wouldn't end up kicking my ass.

  "Hello!" Gabby cried out jubilantly as she swung the front door wide open.

  "Hi," Laurel and I awkwardly responded at the same time.

  "Come on in, you two."

  I politely waited for Laurel to step into the house first before I followed. I'd gotten quite the shock when Gabby had opened the door. She and Laurel were dressed nearly identically. Thick necklaces. Button-down blouses. Skirts I'd expect to see in a country club. It was uncanny, really.

  "Ronnie was wrestling to try to get Stella stressed. She'll be out in a minute," Gabby explained, gesturing vaguely down the hall.

  Laurel asked some question about the house's decor, and I took the opportunity to slip down the hall. I could hear Ronnie's voice begging Stella to put her dress on. I let her voice guide me to an open bedroom door near the other end of the hall. I paused in the doorway, taking in the outrageous amount of glitter in the room. It was pretty safe to say Ronnie hadn't been the one to decorate.

  "Need some help?" I asked, startling Ronnie so much that she jumped.

  "It'd be pretty great if you'd stop sneaking up on me."

  Stella darted around her mother's feet and flung herself at me. It didn't seem like Ronnie had made any attempt to explain to the kid that I was her dad, but at least she liked me. That was something I needed to talk to Ronnie about, though, because I did want Stella to know without a doubt that I was her dad. I didn't want any confusion about that.

  "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. Gabby mentioned you were having some trouble back here."

  "Of course she did." Ronnie's nose wrinkled up. "Stella doesn't want to wear the dress Gabby picked for her."

  Ronnie held up the dress, and I immediately understood what the problem was. It was awfully fancy for a barbecue. I could only imagine how much the sequins on it would itch, too.

  "It's there a reason it has to be that exact dress? I'm sure she has some other dress she could wear, right?"

  "Ugh. I tried to suggest that but Vinnie told me I wasn't allowed to mess anything up for Gabby today. He just kept lecturing me about how hard she worked to get everything perfect."

  "Blame it on me," I offered. Already, I was moving towards the closet doors with Stella in tow. I slid one side open and asked her, "What do you want to wear, baby?"

  Her little feet swung excitedly, kicking me in the process, but I didn't complain. Patiently, I waited until she pointed to something hanging in the very far corner of the closet. I grabbed for the hanger and tried not to gawk at the checkerboard print dress she'd selected. It took everything in me to hold in my laugh.

  "Gabby is gonna freak," Ronnie mused. I noticed though that she didn't suggest picking something else.

  "Why do you even own this?" I asked as I handed over both the dress and Stella.

  I'd never helped a little kid get dressed before, and I didn't want to start now and embarrass myself in front of Ronnie. We seemed to be getting along okay, so I didn't want to risk rocking the boat.

  "It actually was a gift from Hazel. She gave me a whole box of stuff that more or less looks like this. Gabby was too polite not to hang the new things up when I brought them home. You could totally tell she
was horrified, though. So, this will be great."

  I shook my head at her. She'd always been too antagonistic towards the people she didn't get along with. Honestly, I was surprised Vinnie had put up with it. He always used to be the one putting her in her place for acting like that. The fact that she was still acting so snide made it clear that Vinnie hadn't cracked down.

  "Well, Stella looks perfect to me now." She'd given Ronnie no trouble putting the new dress on. She looked more like a tablecloth at a barbecue than a kid attending one, but so be it. It wasn't gonna hurt anyone. "Ready to party, Stelly-Belly?"

  Ronnie pouted. "That's my nickname for her."

  I reached for Ronnie, more out of instinct than anything. She let herself be pulled easily into my side. When she didn't resist, I pulled her more fully against me. My arms wrapped around her and we were hugging. It felt good. I let my head settle against the top of hers. Stella—not to be left out—wrapped an arm around each of our legs, effectively joining the embrace.

  "Why are you hugging me?" Ronnie whispered.

  "I figured it was just something we both needed. Thank you for sharing Stella with me, Veronica."

  Ronnie seemed to melt in my arms. I'd clearly made the right call because all of the tension left her body as she inched closer to me.

  "Uh, sorry to interrupt." Laurel was hovering in the hallway outside Stella's room.

  All of the color seemed to drain from Ronnie's face as she pulled away from me. She seemed both embarrassed and angry, though I couldn't fathom why.

  "What's up?" I asked Laurel.

  "Gabby suggested I come fetch you all before her husband blows a blood vessel. Apparently, he's not thrilled with the two of you being alone back here."

  "Stella's here to chaperone," I joked.

  "Travis was just helping me dress Stella. That's all." Ronnie's words were loud and defensive. I shot her a confused look but she wouldn't meet my eye.

  "Oh, uh, okay." Laurel glanced at me like I might have some explanation for Ronnie's defensiveness. I shrugged slightly. She'd been fine literally two minutes earlier.

  Ronnie didn't even wait for the two of us. She scooped up Stella and dodged around Laurel in the hallway. She was gone before either of us had even started to move. I belatedly joined Laurel in the hallway.

  "I don't think we'll be becoming good friends anytime soon," Laurel joked sarcastically as she stared in the direction Ronnie had disappeared.

  "Sorry. I have no idea what her problem is."

  "Really?" Laurel laughed lightly. "I have some guesses of my own."

  Whatever her guesses were, she didn't get a chance to share them. Gabby's head popped up around the corner. "What would you all like to drink? We've got practically everything. Lemonade. Tea. Soda. Water."

  It was only a short time later that we all found ourselves gathered around an outdoor table. Vinnie sat at one head of the table while Gabby sat at the other. I was to Vinnie's right, with Laurel on my other side. Ronnie was directly across from me, and Stella sat between her and Gabby.

  It was awkward as hell.

  Every time Gabby spoke, Ronnie found a reason to snap at her. Vinnie was too busy glaring at me to say a word. Stella was too fascinated by a bug crawling across the ground to pay any of us any attention. And I was scared to open my mouth for fear of making things worse. Gabby and Laurel struggled to keep things light, but it wasn't easy to do when they were the only ones talking.

  "So, how long have the two of you been together?" I overheard Gabby asking.

  "The two of who?" Laurel looked to me as if to make sure I'd heard the question. I'd only been half paying attention, but now I sat up higher in my seat.

  "You and Travis. Aren't the two of you…"

  Laurel barked out a laugh that was surprisingly unladylike. "God, no. Travis and I aren't together. I worked in the library with one of his good friends this year. And we've been hanging out this summer because he's working for the art department for me. We're not dating."

  "Why on earth would you think we were dating?" I asked, completely perplexed.

  "That's what Ronnie told us," Vinnie interjected.

  All eyes turned to her. Except Stella's—her eyes continued to watch the fascinating bug.

  "You all were literally on a date when I ran into you that first time at The Burgundy."

  I stared dumbfounded at Ronnie. It was Laurel who answered, "That wasn't a date. I was trying to convince Travis to model for some art classes this summer."

  All common sense fled my mind at that point. The next words out of my mouth were, "You thought I was dating Laurel? Then why the hell did you kiss me?"

  Veronica

  My heart stuttered in my chest as Vinnie's hands slammed down on the outdoor dining table. The whole table—and Gabby's collection of fancy dishes—rattled. He rose to his feet, so I did the same.

  "Are you fucking kidding me?" Vinnie growled.

  I checked on Stella, who was staring wide-eyed at Vinnie. She probably had no clue what his cursing meant, but she'd definitely picked up on his anger. Her bottom lip wobbled in a sure sign that she would start crying at any moment.

  "Can you take—"

  I hadn't even gotten the words out before Travis had made it around the table and was scooping Stella out of the chair. "Laurel, could you and Gabby take Stella inside."

  "No." I stopped him from handing her over. "You go inside, too."

  "Are you sure?" he asked, his eyes flickering in Vinnie's direction.

  "Yeah, I'm sure."

  "Alright." Travis' hand brushed against mine as he carried Stella away. I had a feeling it hadn't been accident, but it brought me very little comfort at that particular moment.

  Once Stella was out of earshot, I took a deep breath and faced my brother. His face was a furious shade of purple, accentuated by the throbbing vein on his forehead.

  "You're insane. After all the bullshit. After you'd gotten better. Now, you're just gonna skip right on back and do it all over again, aren't you?"

  "It was one kiss in the heat of the moment."

  "Which is exactly how everything has been with the two of you. Acting on impulse instead of thinking things through."

  "I was a kid!"

  "Well, you're not a kid now, are you?" Vinnie swung his foot out and gave a solid kick to the chair he'd been sitting in. The whole thing rattled along the ground and then fell over, clattering against the pavement.

  "You're the one acting like a child," I scoffed.

  He glared at me. "I'm not picking up the pieces this time, Veronica. I mean it."

  "No one asked you to!"

  "Last time—"

  "This isn't like before. I'm not like before. And neither is he." A laugh escaped him as he averted his eyes. It made me defensive. "What?"

  "From where I'm standing, you're not different at all. You're still mad at all the girls like Gabby who didn't accept you in high school. You're still trying too hard to seem like you're too cool for the rest of us. Still playing cat-and-mouse with some guy who—I mean, have you all even talked about what happened?" My expression turned guilt-ridden. "See? It's the same old shit, just a different day."

  I was quiet as I said, "I'm gonna go check on Stella." I felt like I shuffled my way to the sliding glass door that led inside from the porch.

  "You can't run forever, Ronnie," he called after me.

  It took everything in me not to shoot him the finger as I went into the house. He had no right to lecture me. He was the one that had initiated our move when I'd been barely eighteen. Then, he'd been the one that had invited me along when he'd moved again to take the job in North Carolina.

  And what was that bullshit about Gabby? From the moment he'd met her I'd been abundantly clear that I wasn't a fan. Her whole persona seemed so fake to me—yes, just like many of the girls I'd gone to high school with. It wasn't the kind of woman I'd imagined with my laid-back, sports fanatic brother. If anything, I'd pictured him with some sort of free-wheeling
former softball player or something.

  Laurel and Gabby were both nervously huddled around the kitchen island. Identical looks of pity greeted me the second I'd walked through the door. A quick glance around the open living space revealed no sign of Travis or Stella.

  "Where's Stella?"

  Gabby answered, "Travis took her to play in the bedroom."

  "Thanks," I mumbled out.

  I was nervous to face Travis after the weird scene we'd just caused outside. Because of that, I moved excruciatingly slow down the hall. I'd assumed Gabby meant he'd taken Stella to her own bedroom, but as I started to get close I realized the sound of his voice was actually carrying from my bedroom. When I reached the room, I peeked around the doorframe so I could look in without being noticed.

  Travis was sprawled out across my bed with Stella tucked against his side. It was exactly the same way she liked to lay with me. His hand smoothed her hair back from her forehead as she watched a cartoon cat singing on the TV mounted against the opposite wall. Stella had probably led him to my room since hers didn't have a TV. Travis' eyes were glued to her as her expressions changed in tune with what was happening on the show.

  "What's your name?" Stella asked suddenly, pointing at Travis' chest. I was surprised she hadn't asked him sooner. I held my breath, waiting for his answer.

  He paused a moment. "Daddy." He pointed to himself. "I'm your daddy."

  "Okay, Daddy." Stella's attention went back to her show.

  Quietly, I stepped into the room and shut the door. Stella barely spared me a second look before turning back to her show. Travis kept his eyes on me though, concern evident in them.

  "Is everything okay?" he whispered over our daughter's head.

  I kept moving towards him until I was standing near the edge of the bed. "No," I answered in a whisper of my own.

  "Should I go talk to him?"

  I shook my head as I crawled into the bed on the empty side. I settled in, Stella functioning as a buffer between Travis and me. I'd expected that to somehow make it less intimate—but that wasn't true at all. Travis stretched his arm out so that he could toy with the ends of my hair.