by Lynn Stevens
My eyes shot open. The stark white walls were bare, but I knew a dorm at Westland when I saw one. The single bed across the room was disheveled but empty. At least there wasn’t another witness to my shame. I oriented myself the best someone who was pinned down could. My internal GPS kicked in. The sun was breaking through so I was on the east side of the building. That meant the bed I was trapped in was on the north side of the wall. I mentally scanned the campus layout. Only one dorm faced that direction, Donaldson. My head drummed as the hangover settled in. Donaldson was also the jock dorm, and I was at Gamma house last night, which was the jock frat. Hot breath danced across my bare neck.
Please, God, don’t let it be him. Not again.
A deep rumble erupted from his chest, causing him to loosen his grip around my waist. I had to get out of here. Slowly, I shifted down to slide out from under his arm. He rolled onto his back, his hand smashing against my face in an indelicate caress. I slipped free and fell onto the chocolate rug on my bare knees.
Clothes, I needed clothes. I took stock of my attire, or lack thereof. At least I had something on, even if it was a red-and-black football jersey and too-big boxer shorts. There was nothing underneath. Bile surged up my throat, but I swallowed it back down. I had to find my clothes. Walking home in twenty-degree weather in January in somebody else’s stuff was not the way I wanted to start out the new semester. Tears threatened to fill my eyes, but I focused on the room. Anything to not think about the situation in which I found myself. Anything to not look at the other person in the bed.
I didn’t want to know. I didn’t want it to be him. Maybe if I found something to prove it wasn’t him. Maybe if there was something that shouted football player or basketball player. Anyone but the baseball player I prayed wasn’t in that bed. Even though he’s the last person I remember seeing…
The other side was an organized disaster, just like Paige’s. But that didn’t matter unless my clothes were in the mess, which I doubted. My hands shook as I pressed them into the floor. I turned my head to the left, where two desks faced each other. Each had a computer but the one on this side was a desktop. The desk itself was spotless with a calendar and a cup of pencils.
Don’t let it be him.
A Westland hoodie and sweatpants hung over the brown pleather chair. I pushed off the floor and stood, swaying from the rush to my head. There was a dresser to my right and the glorious door. The top of the dresser was as bare as the desk, but no sign of the clothes I had on last night. Yet my shoes were sitting beside the door. Turning around, I grabbed the hoodie and sweatpants, tugging them on as fast as I could without looking at the guy lying in the bed.
I had to get out of there. It was early morning, so there wouldn’t be many people out on campus. Plus it was Sunday. When I left, I might run into a handful of people heading toward one of the nearby churches, but for the most part the population would be sleeping. I had to run like hell before this guy woke up.
But I couldn’t not look. Suddenly, I had to know if I’d done it. I had to know if I’d made the same fucking mistake all over again.
The chocolate comforter stopped at his waist, revealing perfect muscle structure of the chest and abs. A patch of reddish-blond hair spread from his chest to below the comforter. I wished I could remember how it felt beneath my fingers. My shame deepened, adding in a mixture of pure self-loathing. My gaze settled on his chiseled face. Devon Miller was the last person in the world I wanted to be with. But I was in his room, in his clothes, and without mine.
Again.
How could I have let this happen?
I spun on my heels and headed out the door, letting it click quietly behind me. The hallway was thankfully empty and eerily quiet. Not wanting to make a sound, I tiptoed toward the exit. A door opened behind me and I picked up the pace until I almost hit the door at full speed.
The cold January air slapped me hard in the face, breaking free the tears I had tried not to shed. They froze against my cheeks as I rushed through campus toward my apartment two blocks away. Running in flats, even cute leopard-print ones, was never a good idea. I slid on a patch of ice, but that didn’t slow me down. It only intensified my need to get home.
My vision blurred, sobs filling my chest. I held back the worst of it until I made it to my building, an old riverfront mansion converted into eight studio apartments. I’d jumped at the chance to move in last summer. Dad didn’t want me to stay at Westland over the summer, but I opted to take my foreign language requirements instead of going back home.
After grabbing the hidden key from the turtle by the front stoop, I pushed open the heavy wooden door and ran up the stairs to number six. I jammed the key into the door and opened it like a serial killer was chasing me. Slamming the door, I pressed my forehead against it with my back to the small apartment.
Tears spilled down my cheeks. The radiator sputtered to life. It was only then I realized how freezing cold I was.
I’d promised myself. I’d sworn nothing like this would ever happen again. Despite the noise of the radiator, I heard the telltale creak of my bed behind me.
“Liv? What the hell happened?” Paige said as she came up behind me. Panic filled her voice, deepening it to a high tenor.
I turned around, trying to compose myself.
She grabbed me by the shoulders and held my gaze. “Who did this to you?”
I swallowed the sobs and answered honestly. “I did. I did it to myself.”
“What?” Her gaze darted over my face.
“You kept telling me to have fun, loosen up, get laid, get over Henry. That was the point, right? Of going to the party last night. So I did.” I sniffled and stared at the ceiling. “And I hate myself for it. I hate that I woke up in…someone else’s bed. I hate that I did something I can’t even remember.” I slid down the wall next to the door, unable to bear my own weight. Exhaustion weakened my aching muscles. My head rested against my knees. “I hate that I can’t undo any of it.”
“Oh, honey. I didn’t mean…” Paige slid down next to me. “I just wanted you to be happy. It’s been a year. Let him go.”
“I never wanted to do something so stupid again,” I shot back, raising my head just so I could glare at her. “Why’d you make me go to that party? That frat of all places. It’s my kryptonite.”
“You didn’t have to go. I wouldn’t have made you, despite the stupid bet.” Anger darkened her voice. “Yeah, I would’ve given you crap for welching, but I never wanted you to feel this way.”
“I’m sorry. I’m…I’m not blaming you.” I let my head fall against her shoulder. “I hate feeling like a fool. That’s the worst part, you know? I lost control.”
“And we both know how you love control, chica,” Paige said with a sigh. “But you’re single. Henry’s gone.”
Paige knew about my freshman tryst with Devon. She was there for me after I’d told Henry about it. She knew about Henry’s new fiancée and that he was going to be a father. She even knew that Dad hired Henry at his garage, managing the finances and the office work as Dad focused on expanding. But Paige would never understand.
Henry would never be out of my life.
Chapter Three
I took a nap after Paige left then headed to work for the early evening shift. Waiting tables at the local steakhouse helped pay the rent until Dad cut a deal with the landlord and covered the rest of the school year for me. He didn’t know I kept the job at Steak Stockade. I worked almost every weekend along with some weekdays. The extra cash was nice. Mostly I put it in savings.
My boss was in a mood. Logan stuck me near my least favorite coworker. Amber wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed. More often than not, I ended up taking care of her customers while she reaped the benefits of the tips. It didn’t help that my hangover lingered, making everything twice as loud and twice as annoying. About a third of the way through my shift, I pulled Logan into the office and closed the door. He sat down, putting his hands behind his head and leaning back i
n the creaky office chair.
“Look, I don’t know what I did to piss you off, but if you stick me by Amber again, I’ll quit.” I jammed my finger into his chest to make my point.
“Jesus, Liv, assault anybody else today?” He grabbed my hand when I went in for another poke.
“I’m tired of bussing her tables, getting her customers refills, and taking back the orders she screws up.” I collapsed against the closed door and rubbed my temples. “And I have a massive hangover.”
“You have a hangover?” Logan laughed and stood from his chair. “Look, I’ll talk to her again. But relax, okay?”
A knock vibrated along my back.
“Hey, Liv?” Amber’s high-pitched voice sent chills down my spine. “You’ve got a couple of customers asking for refills and stuff.”
I reached for the doorknob, but Logan put his hand over mine. “Don’t. I’ll take care of it. Just go get your tables.”
He held my hand over the doorknob for a count of ten, giving Amber time to get away. “I can’t deal with this anymore tonight. Please?”
Logan let go, raising his hands in surrender. It wasn’t really his fault. Okay, it was. He should’ve fired Amber after her first day. She didn’t get it—waiting tables wasn’t easy. A lot of people thought it was a cake walk. They never had to deal with different people bitching at them that their food wasn’t right or their tea wasn’t sweet enough or the plate was too hot or too cold or whatever the complaint of the night was. Amber was too busy staring at her nails or sneaking her phone out of her apron to pay attention to her customers. But she loved the money.
I opened the door hard enough it almost hit me on my way out. Our grill cook Kit quickly got out of my way along with every other person in my warpath. Before I stepped out into the dining room, I plastered a fake smile on my face and prayed I wouldn’t see Amber until I calmed down. And I needed to calm down desperately. Last night’s mistake wormed its way into every thought.
The hostess seated a couple in my section just as a toddler chucked a handful of fries at my chest. The adults at the table stayed blissfully unaware that the kid even existed. I smiled at the boy, because he was just being a kid. He smiled back, throwing more food on the floor. I laughed. He was in Amber’s section.
I stopped beside my new table, letting the anger dissipate. “Hello, my name is Liv and I’ll be your server this evening. Would you like to start off with our world-famous mozzarella sticks and secret marinara?”
“This is awkward,” a girl’s voice said. I finally focused on the people sitting in front of me. She’d been at the party last night. I glanced at her date. Barry Acklin stared at the menu. They would’ve seen me leave with Devon.
I widened my fake smile and mentally demanded my heart slow down. “How’re you doing?” I asked as if this girl was my long-lost best friend. “It’s good to see you again.”
“Fine,” she responded, dragging the word out far longer than necessary. “You?”
“Peachy. Now how about those mozzarella sticks?”
“Um, I’m not sure. Can I just get an iced tea?” She looked toward her date. “Barry?”
“Oh…” He pulled his face away from the menu. “Bud Light?”
“Coming right up.” I spun away from them to get their drinks. It was only halfway through my shift and this night just kept getting better. I hurried to refill drinks at a few other tables before returning to Devon’s friends with their drinks.
“Have you talked to Devon today?” the girl asked. I wished I knew her name. All I could remember was that it started with a C or a K. It was something sweet. Candy. That was it.
“No, why would I?” I asked as I put the tea in front of her.
“Oh, after last night…” Her gaze drifted back to her date before shifting back to me. “Barry…”
“Huh?” Barry wrapped his hands around the ice-cold mug, glancing between his girlfriend and me. “What?”
She shook her head and looked over at me. “Didn’t Devon…” She waved her hand. “Never mind, I’m probably wrong and it’s none of my business.”
“Um…okay?” I gave her a minute to elaborate, but she didn’t. This wasn’t the place to interrogate her, either. No matter how much I wanted to. And didn’t want to. “Are you ready to order?”
I threw myself into making each customer happy, and my apron filled with the cash they left on the tables. Logan took over Amber’s section, literally put out a fire in the kitchen, and kept Amber out of my way. But Candy’s question bothered me. Why would I talk to Devon? It was just sex. No need for conversation or to rehash my regrets over coffee the next day.
It was almost midnight when I finally got home, crankier than usual. The hangover finally disappeared after Kit made me one of his special burgers. Logan didn’t say a word about not paying for it, either. That was an added bonus.
My phone dinged with a text from Paige.
Campus news finally wrote a story about the baseball team. Betts used ’roids. Fisher sold them to him. Entire athletic department getting looked at. Jayce is pissed. Going after all the athletes.
Wow. No wonder the players needed to blow off steam.
After a long shower to wash the smell of meat and grease off my skin, not to mention the beer that a drunk at the bar spilled down my pants, I settled into my bed with my laptop. The article was the first thing I found. Aaron Betts tested positive for steroids. He named Seth Fisher, another player, as his dealer. Then Betts ended up hospitalized. That was insane. Dr. Ross was spearheading an internal investigation to see how far the drugs spread. I wondered how Devon and the rest of the guys were handling it. No doubt just as well as Jayce and the basketball team. Shaking them out of my head, I switched gears.
I hadn’t heard from my family much lately, nor had I had a chance to check in on them. My younger brothers posted photos of their courtwarming dance with their dates. Jacob had apparently been crowned king during halftime of a basketball game. His grin lit up the camera but it was nothing compared to his date’s smile.
Bradley stood next to his date, who was several inches taller and didn’t look all that thrilled in her pink dress. Whether it was the hideous dress or my brother as her date, I couldn’t tell. Probably a bit of both. Bradley might’ve been a freshman in high school but he still acted like a fifth grader at times. Maturity was slow with that boy.
I thought back to my own senior courtwarming. Henry and I had been together for a while at that point. He’d been a complete gentleman as always. We made sure our outfits matched, went to the boring dance, and left early to make out in his car. That was the first night we’d had sex. Were my little brothers being as irresponsible as I had been? God I hoped not.
My father refused to join in the social media craze, so I had to check in with him via my older brother Trevor. Had Dad been cloned, it would have produced Trevor. All they talked about were cars, classic cars, and motorcycles. And that was all Trevor posted, too. So it might as well have been Dad’s page.
One picture caught my attention. Trevor on the left, Henry on the right, and a pretty blond girl in the middle. Amanda was still early in her pregnancy and hadn’t even started showing. Henry’s fiancée was not what I’d expected. From what my father had told me, she was everything I wasn’t. She wanted a big family right away. I wanted to wait to have kids. She wanted to live near her parents. I wanted to move to San Diego or Chicago or Seattle. She wanted to be a wife first. Even when it came down to our looks—she was blond to my brunette. She was petite and thin to my curves.
I clicked off the photo. Henry’s life was none of my business anymore. As much as it angered me, it didn’t hurt as much as it did a few weeks ago. Dad waited until I was home to tell me the news. He thought it would be better said in person. And before Henry and Amanda showed up for Christmas Eve dinner. I’d held out hope that Henry would come back to me once I finished my bachelor’s. That he’d remember how good we were together. While I focused on school with hope he’d
realize what a mistake he’d made, Henry had moved on. It was time I did, too.
Adam and Nick didn’t post much. Most of their pages were links other people sent them. And Tony was overseas somewhere. I checked his page anyway. Nothing since before he left. I wasn’t much into prayer but I prayed for him every day when I woke up. Knowing my brother was in some desert in another country and people were shooting at him terrified me. It didn’t help that I hadn’t heard from him. Dad at least got a call at Christmas.
I messaged each of them with updates about my life. Not much to tell when I thought about it. Shaking off the negativity that threatened to take over my exhausted mind, I decided a cheesy movie would be just the thing I needed to relax.
Instead, I found myself clicking on Devon Miller’s page. It wasn’t hard to find. I moved my cursor to close the window when a chat message popped up from him.
Hi.
That was all it said.
I checked my online availability. It was still off so he must be taking it on faith I’d answer. I didn’t even debate as I typed Hi and hit send.
Was hoping to catch you.
I clicked onto his page. It was labeled private, so I couldn’t see anything. Part of me was a little disappointed I hadn’t thought to check it out sooner. But I really didn’t want to see the millions of photos he posted with all his girlfriends. Not that I would’ve been able to anyway. A friend request popped up on my notifications. I immediately accepted and started snooping through his page.
We need to talk about last night, he added.
