King of Campus

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King of Campus Page 8

by Jennifer Sucevic


  Because Nolan and Nora were born almost a full year after my mother’s death, I know they must have gotten together almost immediately after my mom passed away. And once he sat me down and dropped the bomb that he’d knocked up his co-worker, she moved right on in.

  So I never really gave Leah much of a chance.

  I mean seriously… how could I?

  Every time I looked at her or those kids, all I could think about was how she slid unwantedly into our grieving family before my mom’s dead body was even cold.

  Setting my phone down on the small glass café style table, I shrug as if it’s no big deal. “Just talking to my dad.”

  Lexie’s eyes widen. She knows all too well the unresolved issues my dad and I are still struggling with. Lexie was there when my mom got sick in eighth grade. And she was there to comfort me when my mom died the summer before my sophomore year. She was also there four months later when my dad suddenly announced out of nowhere that he had impregnated Leah and was now getting remarried.

  After that, I spent as much time as I could camping out at Lexie’s house. I would have just moved in with her family if I could have. But my dad wouldn’t allow it. So I was stuck living with my dad, his baby mama, and their squalling twins that were born right before the start of my junior year of high school.

  My dad’s modus operandi is to sweep all the ugliness from the past neatly under the rug and pretend everything is hunky-dory. Both he and Leah walk around with their heads up their asses and I’m the fly in the ointment that refuses to go along with it. So it’s just easier for all involved to have these fake conversations and keep my distance until I’m finally able to support myself.

  Her pretty face fills with compassion. “Everything good with him?”

  “Always sunny and perfect in John Kaster’s la-la land.” I give her a mocking smile that feels brittle around the edges. “Come on, you know that.”

  One side of her mouth hitches in sympathy as she folds her arms across her ample chest. Not that I’m deliberately trying to focus on Lexie’s boobs, but she really does have an enviable rack on her. She’s at least a D cup. Every once in a while I try imagining what that must feel like. Since I’m only a B cup, it takes a great deal of pondering. Hell, sometimes I don’t wear a bra… and no one even notices. “Is he coming here for a visit? It’s been about sixteen months since you’ve seen him.”

  Glancing away, I murmur, “I told him I’d check my schedule and get back to him with a date that works.”

  Because she knows me so well, she snorts. “Do you actually have any intention whatsoever of getting back to him?”

  “Nope.” I pop the P at the end.

  Rather sadly, she shakes her head. “I didn’t think so.” Lexie moves from the doorway to the small table that is almost too big for our teeny tiny balcony before pulling out a chair and throwing herself down. Gently she says, “Maybe it’s time for you to let it go, Ivy. I mean, you’ve already lost one parent, do you really want to lose him, too?”

  Her words catch me so off guard that it feels like I’ve been sucker punched in the gut. My eyes instantly well with unspent emotion. When I’m finally able to wrap my lips around the words, they sound all rough and gravelly. “Are you really saying that to me?” She, out of everybody, knows what I’ve been through. She knows how my dad moved right on with his life and expected that I would be able to do the same.

  She winces just a bit but still continues holding my eyes in a forthright manner that only someone who knows you inside and out can do. “Yeah,” she finally sighs, “I guess I am. Look, you know how much I loved your mom. She was like a mom to me, too. What your dad did sucked big time. There’s no question about it. And you can certainly continue freezing him out or you can finally make amends and try rebuilding your relationship into a better one. A real one.”

  Unconsciously my hand rises to rub at the flesh over my heart which now throbs harshly with grief. “How can I even begin to forgive him, Lex?” Even though it feels impossible, I continue forcing out the words. “It’s like he didn’t care about my mom at all. How do you hook up with someone within months of your wife,” my voice catches on the last word, “dying?”

  Slowly she shakes her head before admitting softly, “I don’t know. But maybe it’s something the two of you need to talk about. Maybe it’s time to finally discuss all the shit you both have been trying to ignore for years.”

  The thought of doing that has my skin prickling with unease. I can’t begin to imagine just such a conversation. Instead of entertaining the idea, I shut it down. “Thanks for the advice, Dr. Phil. I’ll think it over.”

  But I have absolutely no intention of considering Lexie’s words. I have zero interest in fixing whatever is broken between us. He obviously doesn’t give a shit about me or he wouldn’t have gone out and married someone else so quickly.

  Thankfully we’re saved from further conversation when Dylan leans around the barrier separating our two balconies.

  “Hey, gorgeous.” He gives Lexie a big goofy grin. If I didn’t love Lexie like a sister from another mister, I’d actually be jealous of just how into her Dylan seems to be. And I love it. Love that she’s found someone who cares so much about her.

  She gives him a little wink along with a sassy grin in return. “Right back at you, hot stuff.”

  And just like that, we’ve once again veered towards puke-ville.

  “You two lovely ladies gonna get your asses over or what?”

  I shoot Lexie a questioning look. Of course, with all that loud music, I can pretty much guess what’s going on over there. These guys seem to have people coming and going all the time. And not that I’m paying attention or anything (although it’s hard not to) but a lot of them just so happen to be women. And when that’s the case, Dylan clears out and spends time at our apartment, hence the brand new shiny Xbox we have.

  Lexie raises a brow at me in silent inquiry before saying, “Yep, we’re on our way.”

  “See you in a few.” And with that, Dylan disappears back around the privacy fence.

  Once we’re alone, she says, “They’re having a few people over. You coming?”

  I wouldn’t mind hanging out for a bit but I know Roan will be there. And we haven’t exactly spoken since he verbally handed my ass to me a few days ago in our business ethics class. So… that kind of feels like an awkward situation waiting to explode in my face.

  And I am so damn tired of that happening when it comes to him.

  But, at some point, we’re going to have to work together on this project. And since I’m the one who assumed he was nothing more than a meathead jock, I guess it should probably be me who sucks it up and extends an olive branch so we can smooth things over and move on with our lives.

  God, but I so don’t want to do that.

  Is there anything worse than having to eat crow?

  Nope, not really.

  “Yeah, I’ll come for a little bit,” I finally mutter.

  Smiling, she looks pleasantly surprised by my easy capitulation. “Awesome.” Standing, she heads towards the sliding doors. “I’m going to change and then we can get moving.”

  “Sounds good.” I look down at the comfy shorts and tank I’m wearing. I suppose if I’m going to eat crow, I should probably change into something a little nicer.

  Fifteen minutes later, we’re both ready to head over to the guy’s apartment. It literally sounds as if there are about a hundred people crammed inside it. Lexie is wearing black short shorts with a red sleeveless shirt that accentuates her bustiness. A pair of black wedge sandals gives her some extra height. Her long auburn hair is piled on top of her head.

  Because Lexie is a fashion major, she enjoys dressing and redressing me. She’s already rifled through all the clothes I brought back from Paris and pulled ones that she is borrowing indefinitely. Which actually means in Lexie speak that I shan’t ever be seeing them again.

  Currently she enjoys assessing what I’ve chosen and then
sending me back to my room to change into what she thinks I should wear instead. In what I now recognize to be an error in judgement, I humored her the first couple of times it happened which has now established a pattern of behavior I’m finding difficult to break.

  Just like I expect, her mouth slides down at the corners as her narrowed eyes sweep critically over the selection I’ve thrown on for the evening. “I was hoping you would wear the little blue skirt with the floral off-the-shoulder short sleeve blouse.” Her eyes light with excitement. “And then the pink little ballet flats you have.” She actually claps her hands together with enthusiasm. “Oh my god, that would look so good! You have to go change!”

  Because she’s so dang excited and I think she’s probably right anyway, I head back to my room to change. When I reappear five minutes later she practically jumps up and down in her wedges. “I knew that would look amazing together!”

  I hate to admit it, but she’s right. And since she usually is, I seldom bother arguing with her. I try to look at this as having my own in-house stylist and that makes me feel better. Because the skirt is short and I have fairly long legs, I can get away with wearing flats which I absolutely love. Dancing, especially ballet, is hard on your feet. I’ll take flats over heels every single time. So I appreciate her taking this into consideration.

  Now that we’re finally ready to go, Lexie links her arm through mine as we walk down the well-lit hall towards the guy’s apartment. She doesn’t bother knocking but pushes open the door instead. All of the laughter, chatter, and music from inside comes pouring out into the hallway. Most of the tenants in this building are college aged students, so apparently obnoxiously cranked up music and noise on a Friday night is the norm around here and therefore perfectly acceptable.

  Stepping inside, I weave my way through all the people standing around in clumps talking. As soon as Dylan catches sight of Lexie, he pushes through the thick crowd towards us. Reaching her side, he immediately pulls her into his arms, kissing her soundly on the mouth. They stay fused together for a good minute before I actually have to clear my throat. And yeah… there’s a whole lot of tongue action happening.

  Which isn’t awkward at all...

  Finally coming up for air, Lexie gives me a sheepish grin as Dylan continues holding her close as if he can’t stand to be parted from her for even a moment.

  I can’t resist admitting, “You guys are totally sickening. You know that, right?”

  Lexie’s smile intensifies a couple thousand watts until I can barely stand to look at her. “Don’t worry, we’ll find a guy for you, too. That’s one of my missions this year.”

  I really hope she’s joking about that. “I don’t need a guy,” I groan. The last thing I want is for Lexie to try working her voodoo matchmaking magic on me. Been there, done that. It never really works out in the end.

  I suppose if I get desperate enough, I could always tell her about the date I have tomorrow night with Finn…

  But since I know exactly what type of ugly response that will elicit, I decide to keep my mouth shut. I’m really hoping I’ll be able to sneak out without telling her about it since the last thing I need is for her to pull up all those pictures she snapped of him last year in some desperate attempt at tough love.

  “Sure you do.”

  Rather flatly, I shake my head. “Nope, I really don’t.” Needing to escape this conversation before she actually starts dragging guys over for an impromptu version of the Dating Game (FYI- she likes to bring up embarrassing stories from our childhood), I quickly mutter, “I’m going to get something to drink.” The words barely make it out of my mouth before I’m walking away.

  The crowd is elbow to elbow in here. There has to be at least fifty people jammed into their living/dining room combination. And the noise level is just shy of deafening. Looking around for a few familiar faces, I realize that most the guys here have big bulging muscles. And more than a few look to have no neck whatsoever. Which is always a weird phenomenon. So… I’m guessing these are fellow teammates.

  And the girls… I’ve also noticed there are way more females than guys present and a lot of them are scantily clad and clinging to any male they can find.

  In pairs.

  I almost roll my eyes. It’s doubtful I’ll be hanging out here for long. Just as I grab a beer from the fridge, I catch a glimpse of Roan in the living room. Because of his height, he’s hard to miss. Of course he’s surrounded by a thick group of people at least two deep.

  And yes, most of them are female with teeny tiny shirts over big round breasts and micro skirts that barely cover their asses. God help them if they need to bend over.

  We’re talking beaver galore…

  Well… my intention in coming here tonight had been to finally work up the courage to apologize for jumping to conclusions about him. So that’s exactly what I’m going to do and then I can get the hell out of here. This really isn’t my scene. And quite honestly, before Lexie started dating Dylan, it wouldn’t have been hers either.

  We usually hang with a more artistic minded crowd.

  Slowly making my way towards him, I mentally rehearse a short but sweet apology that will smooth things over between us. When I’m about fifteen feet away, our eyes collide. More surprising than that is the way they continue to hold as I force myself to close the distance separating us. A little shiver of awareness skitters its way down my spine as his turquoise colored eyes impale me.

  A moment later he breaks away from the crowd still clamoring for his attention. Everyone’s eyes focus on him as he makes his way towards me.

  “Hey.” Slowly his eyes run down the length of me. For just a heartbeat or two, they linger on my bare legs. People have told me that I have legs up to my ears because of their length. I’m comfortable with it now, but when I was a kid, I was constantly outgrowing my pants. My mom had a hard time finding the longer lengths I needed which meant there were times when I looked like I was waiting around for a flood to roll through.

  “Looking good, Ivy.”

  “Thanks.” All of a sudden my throat feels dry and scratchy. Damn him for always having this kind of effect on me.

  With his eyes still locked on mine, he takes a slow pull from the green bottle in his hand. I feel caught in the crosshairs of them and it’s such an odd feeling. I want to hold my breath until he finally releases me from his gaze.

  But he’s not looking away and I’m not able to hold my breath indefinitely.

  Even though there are tons of people milling around, jostling or knocking into us, somehow it feels as if it’s just the two of us. I swear I can feel the enticing lure of him. As if I’m somehow drawn to him against my will. There’s something unidentifiable about Roan that attracts both men and women and holds them utterly captivated.

  Needing to break the spell he’s woven around me, I shake my head just a bit to clear it before ripping my eyes away from his. I need to force out my apology and then get the hell out of here before my brain turns to complete mush. The way his eyes just licked over my body is enough to have me spontaneously combusting on the spot. Liquid heat is already gathering in a place I’d rather not think about.

  Well, at least until I’m alone in my room…

  To have all that smoldering sexiness aimed right at you for even twenty minutes would be as addicting as a drug.

  No wonder they all want a piece of him.

  No matter how small it is.

  Trying to tamp down my body’s automatic reaction to him, I keep my eyes trained directly over his shoulder. Every once in a while my gaze will flicker towards his. As soon as our eyes catch, mine skitter away nervously.

  Clearing my throat, I force out the words. “I’m sorry about the other day.”

  Again my eyes stray to his. He cocks his head just a bit to the side before lifting the bottle to his gorgeous lips again. As he takes another long pull, his eyes continue holding mine. When he finally lowers the beer, he steps just a bit closer. So close that I can see
all the ridiculously beautiful shades and flecks of green and blue that make up the brilliant hue of his eyes.

  It’s completely mesmerizing.

  Even though the party surrounding us is loud, his voice is pitched low. “What exactly are you apologizing for?”

  With my mouth suddenly feeling as if it’s been stuffed full of cotton, I gulp somewhat painfully before answering. How does he do that? How does he twist me up into these tiny little knots every single time?

  “I…I didn’t think you were interested in pulling your weight on the project.”

  Something flashes in his eyes but it’s there and gone so quickly I’m not able to identify the emotion that caused it.

  Sounding deceptively flip, he comments, “You just thought I’d leave you hanging, so you could do all the work by yourself, huh?”

  Feeling distinctly uncomfortable for being put on the spot, I shift from one foot to the other before glancing guiltily away. “Yeah. I did.”

  He moves closer, invading my personal space right before his strong fingers settle under my jaw. Then he slowly turns my face towards him until my eyes are ensnared within his brightly burning gaze once again.

  “You just figured I was some dumbass jock who got passed along because of football.” It’s not a question. We both know that’s exactly what I assumed.

  The force of his gaze feels relentless. I can’t tell if it’s anger propelling all that churning emotion within them or not.

  “Yes,” I finally whisper when I can’t stand the intensity a moment longer, “that’s what I thought.” When I try ripping my eyes away, he jerks my chin until they slide right back to where he wants them.

  On him.

  Leaning towards my left ear, he finally murmurs, “I’m more than just football, Ivy.” As those words whisper against my ear, his fingers finally fall away from my chin. As they do, I inhale a huge gulp of air. Needing to put some physical distance between us, I scramble back a step. For some reason my heart feels as if it’s going to explode right out of my chest.

 

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