The Cajun Grill was a tiny roadside diner where everyone went, from college kids to the local crowd. For students, it was a good, out of the way spot to get a cheap meal away from campus. For locals, it was the convenience and probably that tucked-away feel the place had.
I pushed through the glass door and found Slade sitting with a bunch of papers spread out on the table.
“Hey.” He stood to greet me as I approached. Such a gentleman, but I’d seen how he snubbed girls he wasn’t interested in, so I knew that every gesture had a purpose. He’d do well to remember that I’d known him long enough to witness most of his tricks.
“So what’s the deal with making me come all the way down here, and by bus, no less?”
“Why’d you take the bus? You could have just phoned and I would have swung by for you.”
“Last minute car trouble. Anyway, what’s all this?” I asked, sitting down beside him.
“Our business plan,” he announced proudly.
“Wait, what?”
He handed me a printed copy. “Well it’s more of a close to final draft. If you review it and put your stamp of approval, we can run with it. Take a look.”
“Oh, okay. So you did this yourself?” I flipped through the first couple of pages. He had everything organized, and in the format Dr. Taylor wanted. All of his supporting document and research was laid out on the table too.
“It’s for an Animal Shelter Adoption Drive,” he said with pride.
“An adoption drive?” I asked him. “This is supposed to be for a business, not an event, Slade.”
“I know, I know, but hear me out. There are a ton of shelters around the city, right? And that means there is a metric shit-ton of animals that need homes. So, instead of opening another shelter and taking attention away from current shelters, let’s start a company that helps them organize adoption drives. We can even use it to help move animals from some of the pet shops around town as well.”
I stopped to consider what he was telling me. I had to admit, it sounded pretty interesting.
“We could do it month to month, either by shelter or invite all the shelters to come together and do one massive drive each month. It just depends on what the shelters want to do at that point. We’d have to work closely with them to get everything organized. That’s why I asked you here instead of meeting up with you at the library.”
“Why here? What does really average local food have to do with animal shelters?”
“Look outside.”
Across the street was The Pet Adoption House. Set in an old Victorian home that looked like it could have been an old frat house, The Pet Adoption House was the largest privately owned animal shelter in the city.
“Oh. So how did you know about this place?”
“Have you forgotten it’s my senior year of college too? I don’t leave things to chance, Cassidy. Doing well on this project is just as important as all my other classes.”
“You really have done your homework, Slade.” Despite my initial concerns over working with him, I was impressed.
“There’s a reason why I’m the best at everything I do, whether it’s on the field, in the classroom, or in bed,” he boasted.
There it was, classic Slade style—or lack thereof. “So, are we going across the street to talk to them, or are you going to hit on me here?”
“Hitting on you is way more fun, but since we’re here, let’s check out the place.”
Not wanting to engage too much, or to stroke his massive ego any further, we headed over to the shelter. Inside, The Pet Adoption House was set up like a home. Other than the kennels lining the walls along the floor in each room, it was set up like a model show home. The only thing that really looked business-like was the counter and desk they’d installed in the foyer, where a young receptionist waited.
“Hello, and welcome to The Pet Adoption House,” she greeted us. “Do you have an appointment, or are you just here to look through our selection of animals?”
I opened my mouth to let her know we were visiting for a research project when Slade interrupted me.
“A little bit of both, actually,” he said. “I’m Slade Clark and this is my partner Cassidy Greyson. We’re from the university and we’re working on a business project to set up a company that organizes adoption drives for animal shelters. I spoke with a Gladys Foster to get some information on how this shelter works so we can tailor our business plan to suit. She mentioned we can stop by and speak with her for a walk-through?”
“All right. Yes, she’s the location manager. Sure, I’ll get her for you.” The young girl’s face lit up, probably excited by the prospect of some extra bodies to help them to adopt animals out.
“And I’m sure she’ll want to look at the animals,” Slade said, pointing at me over his shoulder.
“Hey, it was your idea to get into the adoption business.”
The receptionist laughed and looked at the screen on her phone. “She’ll be down in just a minute. Feel free to have a look around while you wait. As you see, we have animals in every room.”
We heard Gladys, the shelter’s manager, before we saw her. “Hello, there. Thanks for coming by.” She was a white-haired, older woman wearing khaki pants and a cream t-shirt with the shelter logo. She greeted us like someone’s grandmother, her kindness stopping just short of pinching or kissing our cheeks. “How about I give you a tour while we talk about your business idea?”
“We’d love that.” Slade shook her hand and introduced me, and then I followed along as he gave her an overview of the business plan.
“Oh, that sounds like you could fill a real gap in our system. I can’t tell you how timely your call was. We run several shelters, and I’m part of a community of shelters in the state. We’re all so focused on maintaining our shelters and the level of care to the animals we take in, that it’s an onerous effort getting the word out about all the animals up for adoption. Many of us rely on volunteers, and… you’ll have to excuse me, you two. I have a tendency to ramble on about our work. Let me tell you how we run our operation.
“That would be great, thanks.”
“Well, as you see, we keep the shelter decorated like a home. This makes our visitors more comfortable, and helps prepare the animals to transition better when they’re adopted into what we hope are forever homes. Many pets are rescued from puppy mills, and will not have ever seen the outside of a cage, or even interacted much with people. So this layout helps.
“Do you have any advice for starting up our business?”
“You’ve already done an important step by completing thorough research, which is why I feel you’ve hit a niche that I’m pretty certain could be in big demand. You’ve also been smart about choosing to provide aid to existing shelters instead of opening a new one. From what you’ve told me, your business will help take some of the marketing weight off of our shoulders, and I mean, all of us. Like I said, there are so many other priority tasks in our day-to-day, getting the word out can end up at the bottom of the pile, or is delegated. Simply put, we’re not effective.”
Slade seemed distracted once we entered the area where the dogs were kept. He stopped by one of the kennels with two adorable brown puppies inside. I immediately let out an “Aww,” out of instinct. I wanted to grab them and cuddle them as soon as I saw them.
“You can take them out if you want,” Gladys offered.
Slade opened the kennel and pulled out one puppy, handing him over to me before taking the other one out. The little puffballs whined like the dickens when they were separated, so Slade got closer, turning his puppy so it could see the other one in my arms. That was when his elbow brushed against my upper arm, and damn, it took every last bit of self-control not to react to the spark of electricity that rushed through my body from his touch.
I just hoped he didn’t notice, because he’d never let up if he knew I was actually attracted to him.
“Those two came in this morning,” Gladys informed us cheeri
ly. “The family couldn’t bear to get rid of them, but they couldn’t afford to keep them either.”
I sniffed my puppy. “Oh, you smell so clean!” I told him, petting behind his ears.
“We clean them first thing in our intake area before introducing them to the rest of the shelter. That way we can control things like fleas and ticks. You look like a natural with animals. Both of you do.”
“I would love to keep these cuties, but I’ve got another year on campus. They’d hate being in my tiny dorm rooms.”
“I bet we could keep them at the frat house,” Slade suggested. “We could use a couple of good dogs.”
Was he for real? Then again, he hadn’t paid me any real attention since we walked in, and he hadn’t made any lewd comments. Maybe it was the animals. Come to think about it, his family had always had two or three dogs as pets at one time or another. Maybe he was in his element. I almost couldn’t believe it, seeing Slade “Slaughter” Clark actually being nurturing and kind.
The receptionist hurried over and reminded Gladys if a teleconference she was needed on, and we put the puppies back in their kennels.
“We’d better get going as well,” he told her.
“Yes,” I agreed. “Thank you for your time, Ms. Foster.”
“Anytime, dear. You can both come back any time you want to visit or adopt one of our lovely babies. And keep me posted on how your business idea progresses.”
“You bet,” Slade told her, and we followed her to the front reception.
I hadn’t realized how long we’d spent looking around the place. We had just enough time to get back on campus and grab our things before practice. Damn, and I had to wait for a freaking bus.
Slade cleared his throat when we reached the sidewalk. “Need a ride?” he asked. “You don’t have to take the bus back.”
I checked the time and swore under my breath. Even if the bus showed up within five minutes I’d still be late for practice.
“Fine,” I whined. He led me to his car parked along the street behind The Cajun Grill, and held the door for me without making any passes or comments as I got in. Something was different. It was like he was off his game. We rode in silence back to campus and although I wanted to thank him for taking such initiative in getting the project going, I wasn’t looking forward to waking up his ego.
We went directly to practice and afterward, he announced that he would drive me to my dorm. When I asked him why he said he wanted me to take all his printed research and review it with the business plan to be sure I was one hundred percent on board. I wasn’t too sure about more alone time in his car, so I asked Miranda if she’d come with us. Of all the days for her to have other plans. Nodding, I got back into Slade’s car and let him take me home.
He jumped out of the driver side when we got to my place, pulling the stack of documentation from the back seat. “I’ll help you up with these…” I looked at him. “You’re already loaded down with your stuff.”
Crap. I wished he weren’t so glaringly logical at a time like this. I mean, behind that seemingly sincere offer was what I saw as an ulterior motive to get up in my dorm, but how could I accuse him of that when I really couldn’t take any more stuff into my hands? So I gave him a nod and led him inside and up to my room.
“Where should I put this?” he asked, following me inside.
“Anywhere on the study desk or on that bed on the left.”
“Cool.” He set the stuff down, then he stood in the little open space between Miranda’s and my bed, looking around. He seemed so out of place in a room decorated in pastels and florals. “Well, that meeting gave us a good head start.”
“Yes. Thanks for arranging it. And for drafting the business plan. I’ll take a look at it tonight and add my notes to the hard copy. Actually, can you email it to me? I might as well get it into the document.”
“Sure. I’ll send it when I get home.” He stood there as though he had more to say, so I hung back near the door, waiting for him to wrap up and leave.
Before I knew it, he crossed the small space in two strides. His hand was on my cheek and the next second, his lips were touching mine. I should have done a better job of fighting the urge to return the kiss—if you could call running my hand up into his hair and pressing up against his body ‘fighting’. My mouth eagerly joined his, and did nothing but enjoyed the headiness as he parted my lips and tangled his tongue with mine. Our tongues danced together briefly before he pulled away.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have.” He started to leave, but every inch of my body screamed in objection. Just before he opened the door, he turned back to me. “Unless you want me to stay…”
I was breathless and turned on, but even though I wanted to tell him to stay, I couldn’t bring myself to say the words. Slade stared into my eyes, nodded, then he left. I pressed my back to the closed door, panting like these was no air left in the room, and honestly, was a bit regretful he’d stopped. I silently cursed my body for betraying me. Now he knew in no uncertain terms that I was indeed attracted to him.
After catching my breath, I dragged my ass to my bed and took a seat beside the stack of papers he left. I hadn’t made it to page two when there was a knock on the door. This time I didn’t hesitate. I opened the door, grabbed his still sweaty t-shirt and pulled him inside. His lips were on mine again, groaning as he walked me backward until the back of my calves hit my bed.
I didn’t know I wanted him so badly until he kissed me. And now, we were finally here, inches above my bed, and I knew I couldn’t go through with it. Pressing my hands on his chest, I pushed him a few inches off of me.
“Slade…” I panted out. “That should not have happened…and we just can’t.”
He raised a hand to his face and brushed his cheek. “You mean the first kiss, or this last one when you dragged me back in here?”
“Both of them.” I looked away, hoping he wouldn’t see the residual desire in my eyes or hear it in my voice. “I’m sorry. Can you just go now? I, uh, I have to get some things done.”
“Damn.” He stood there, shaking his head for a second, then finally backed away to the door. “Fine.” A second later he was out the door, which he slammed so hard I was sure the hinges broke.
7
Slade
There was nothing like a Friday night kegger to kick the weekend off, especially the second weekend of football season. Unfortunately, when tempers flare over football and alcohol, it’s easy to find the landlord standing on the porch the next morning yelling about damaged property.
The party had started off great. All the usual suspects were there – a handful of guys from the team, the frat brothers, and most of the girls from the cheerleading squad. Except for Cassidy, of course, but I couldn’t tell if that was because she was mad about us making out and almost having sex or because she just didn’t do parties. Ever.
Miranda, her roommate, was there, of course. She never did much socializing when she came around, but if there was a party with free booze around campus, she was there. I couldn’t quite figure that out. I had more important things to worry about, like the bet that was still going on. I had already made out with her earlier in the week, but I wasn’t quite ready to break the news to the guys yet. Apparently, there were still a few people who hadn’t put any money down. I figured I’d wait until there was enough money in the pot to make it worth it, or until I got her begging me to take her before I told anyone.
At some point in the night, after I’d managed to get myself quite plastered, some random kid—not anyone on the team or from the fraternity—got just as wasted and started mouthing off at me. I may have lost my cool, and from what I heard from the boys, I may have also mopped up the floor with him, from one end of the main floor to the other. Sadly, his ass wasn’t the only casualty in the fight.
This was why our landlord, Mr. Howard, had come to be standing in front of me right now, shouting about the damages to the house. “You know, I ought to kick you all out
on your sorry asses and call your parents. I’d be well within my rights to name each of you in a civil suit for the damages to my property and the lost rent when I terminate the lease with your fraternity.”
In an effort to keep the news from reaching either my family or the national fraternity office, I decided to beg for a reprieve instead of letting things escalate. I figured anything Mr. Howard could do to me directly was better than anything my folks or the fraternity would do.
“Mr. Thomas,” I croaked through my aching head, “I take responsible for this mess.”
“How in the hell did you manage to destroy three of my antique tables and the two armoires in the front room, son?” he asked me.
“Some random guy came by last night and started a fight.” It made perfect sense in my head, but it did sound weak when I said it aloud.
“I assume you were plastered at the time,” Mr. Howard said.
“Yes, sir, we’d been drinking.” At that point I decided that the less I said, the better. I was making it worse.
“That little party you boys threw last night is going to cost you an additional fifty-seven hundred dollars in damages to my house.” It felt like his voice was bearing down on my shoulders.
“What? I don’t have six thousand dollars!”
So much for keeping a lid on the talking.
“You should have thought about that before you destroyed those antiques.”
Thinking on my feet was normally a breeze, but with my head pounding from this hangover, it took a while to come to the point where I realized all he needed was some reassurance.
“I’ll find a way to pay for everything,” I announced, not knowing how exactly I could make that happen. Six grand was a heck of a lot of money. Money I didn’t have and didn’t have the means of earning without a job, which I also didn’t have.
“Damn right, you will.”
“Yes, sir.”
“How do you plan on doing that?”
Go Deep: A Bad Boy Sports Romance Page 5
