Hazed: A New Adult College Romance (Palm South University Book 6)

by Kandi Steiner

  And his arms are around me.

  He crushes me to him so tight I can’t breathe, kissing me senseless and winding his hands in my hair. Then, without warning, he spins me again, and I fall hands first onto the chaise with my ass up in the air.

  My dress had fallen back down when I stood, but it takes Brandon only seconds to have it up over my hips again. And no sooner than he does do I feel the slick tip of him press inside me.

  And with a flex, he fills me to the hilt.

  “Oh, fuck, Brandon!” I cry out, and he grabs the back of my dress and rips me to stand so he can slap a hand over my mouth.

  “Shhhh.”

  I stifle the laugh against his palm, and once I nod, he removes it, and I pant out my desire as he withdraws and presses into me once more.

  “Goddammit, I’ve missed this,” he curses, kissing the back of my neck. “I’ve missed you.”

  His hands grip my hips so he can find a rhythm, and he pounds into me harder, faster, his release building.

  With my palms gripping the edge of the chaise, I meet him pump for pump, my ass slapping against his thighs. When his hands reach around and rip the strapless top of my dress down to free my breasts, they swing wildly, his fingertips just barely touching my sensitive nipples and driving me insane.

  “Brandon,” I pant. “Oh, God.”

  “Fuck, I’m not going to last.”

  “Don’t,” I say, short and simple, and with that permission, I feel him empty his release inside me, his cock pulsing, and he reaches down to circle my clit and make me topple over the edge with him.

  My legs tremble and quake with the orgasm, and it takes every ounce of willpower I have to keep myself quiet. I want to scream. I want to cry out his name. I want to declare myself this man’s forever.

  When we’re both spent, Brandon carefully pulls out and falls directly down to the floor, his back sliding against the tile wall. I laugh as I do the same, and then we’re side by side, his pants around his ankles and my dress no more than a heap of fabric, my naked breasts heaving under his gaze.

  For the longest time, we just sit there, trying to catch our breaths, our eyes dancing between each other’s.

  After a while, a smile curls on Brandon’s lips, and I laugh, letting my head fall back against the wall.

  “Now what?”

  “ARE YOU SURE I’M not imposing?” Erin asks, holding one elbow with the opposite hand. “We could hang out another day if—”

  “Nonsense,” Mom answers for me. “The more the merrier. We have an uneven number for games, anyway.”

  Erin smiles at Mom before her big eyes flick to mine.

  “What she said,” I echo, and then I throw my arm around Erin and start leading the group down Greek Row.

  “Uncle Bear, can I ride on your shoulders?!” my youngest nephew, Camron, asks. He just turned four last month, and with his mom’s golden eyes and my brother’s dimples, he’s become quite accustomed to getting whatever he asks for.

  So, of course, I smile at Erin and remove my arm from around her shoulder so I can bend down and help Camron climb up.

  My older nephew, Cole, is nine now. His eyes are the darker brown of my brothers, and where Camron is lean and lanky, Cole has started bulking out — thanks to working out with his dad ever since he came back. He’s almost to that age where he’s too cool for us, but hasn’t quite made it yet.

  My heart squeezes a little when he runs to catch up with me and grabs my hand.

  “You good, buddy?” I ask him.

  “Yeah,” he answers simply. He’s become a lot quieter over the last couple years, and I know a big part of that has to do with his dad disappearing and then coming back out of nowhere.

  I know from experience how that can mess with your mind as a kid.

  It’s the last day of family weekend, and the Panhellenic Council put together a day of field events in the open half-acre between Zeta Rho Kappa and Zeta Pi Alpha. It’s a chance for families to have a little friendly competition while also stopping by the booths hosted by each fraternity and sorority to learn a little more about the organizations.

  Plus, food and booze, of course.

  Lots of food and booze.

  Mom, Clayton, Carleton, Carleton’s wife Janae, and my nephews met up with me at the house about fifteen minutes ago so we could head down together.

  But when we opened the door to leave, Erin was walking up the lawn to the Omega Chi house.

  God, the way my chest tightened at the sight of her. Her dark blonde hair was straight and parted down the middle, falling just to her shoulders. She was wearing a yellow sundress that highlighted her smooth, tan skin, and the way the straps of it hung delicately on her shoulders made me want to slip a finger beneath the fabric and slide it off.

  I don’t know why she showed up here today, why she was at the house without even texting to see if I’d be around. Something tells me she showed up on a whim, that part of her was hoping she wouldn’t find me at all.

  But she did.

  Along with my entire family.

  “So, how are we breaking up these teams?” Clayton asks when we make it to the field. It’s already bustling with Greeks and parents alike. “Because I think I want dibs on Erin.”

  He winks up at her, which makes her laugh and arch a brow at me.

  “Hey, I’m not responsible,” I claim, throwing my hands up.

  “I like that idea,” Mom says. “You and Erin, Carleton and Janae…” She pauses, then, her eyes a bit apprehensive when she smiles at me. “And me and you, Bear?”

  I smile back. “Let’s do it.”

  Mom’s eyes water up a bit, but she smiles to clear the emotion, and once we drop my nephews off at the kids’ area, we make our way to the first event.

  It’s a beautiful day in South Florida, warm but breezy with plenty of cloud cover. There’s supposed to be a storm moving in later this evening, but right now, it’s paradise.

  We start with the long jump, which Carleton wins in a landslide, thanks to his beanstalk legs. We used to tease him and call him Daddy Long Legs when we were kids. He’s always been a lanky sonofabitch, but this time, it came in handy for him.

  Next is the tug of war, which Mom and I win, mostly thanks to the fact that I haven’t missed a day at the gym since I was fourteen. Then there’s the one-hundred-yard dash, which stuns us all when Janae pulls out some speed we had no idea she contained.

  “First place relay team in high school, suckers,” she teases after the victory, and she and Carleton high-five each other before kissing in a way that makes Clayton murmur, “Gross.”

  There’s disc golf and relay races, an egg and spoon course, and a ping-pong ball race where you have to use a water gun to get the ball to move. There’s a balloon pop and three-legged race, and of course, a Double Dutch jump rope competition which Mom dominates because she grew up on that game.

  Course after course, race after race, we frolic around the field as a family.

  And the longer we play, the more emotional I get.

  I swear, I’m getting soft in my old age. Maybe it’s that graduation is sneaking up on me, and all those same feelings that were haunting me over Spring Break are only getting stronger now. But I’m laughing harder than I have in years, and yet I also feel like I’m on the verge of tears.

  This is the first time I think we’ve ever been like this as a family.

  Sure, when we were younger, Mom would take us to the park on her day off sometimes, or let us play basketball at the courts while she watched. But we never took family vacations. Timing never seemed to work out, especially once we got older, once Carleton settled down and I went off to college. That limited time we’d managed to save for each other became less and less.

  I think the last time we were even all together at the same time was the Christmas after Camron was born.

  Four years ago.

  It’s something I never thought I’d see — Mom clean and healthy, Carleton being a good father an
d husband, my nephews carefree and living it up. It makes it all better to see how positively it’s impacting Clayton, how he’s able to recoup his relationship with our mother and have her around while he chases his football dreams and finishes high school.

  What a stark contrast to where we all were just a few years ago, when Skyler was writing checks for my drugged-out mom and older brother, and my little brother had to move in with his best friend’s family.

  To top it all off, Erin is here.

  And fuck if that doesn’t wreck me, too.

  Because I see her joking with my brothers, playing with my nephews, and talking with my mother, and I have this ridiculous pinch in my gut that she belongs here.

  That we belong here.

  I can also see that she’s not okay.

  I don’t know what’s going on, but the fact that she showed up to the O Chi house unannounced tells me something isn’t right. Pair that with the fact that I know the difference between her real smiles and the ones she has to fake, and it’s plain as day.

  I make a mental note to ask later.

  For now, I’ve got to beat her ass in this wheelbarrow race to break the tie between our team and hers.

  “Alright, teams,” Skyler says, blowing her whistle once to get our attention before she lets it dangle around her neck. As the president of KKB, she’s one of the hosts of the field day, and she’s got the suntan to prove it. “One of you assumes the position of the wheelbarrow, putting your hands on the ground and letting your other partner hold your legs around their waist. Then, you have to work together to get down around the cones and back first. If the wheelbarrow’s feet touch the ground at any point, you have to start over.”

  “You’re going down,” Erin whispers to me.

  “In your dreams, Ex.”

  She just smirks, and then when Skyler says to get ready, she effortlessly cartwheels into a handstand.

  I gape at her while Clayton does the same, and then he sidles up to grab her legs and hoist them around his waist.

  When he grins back at me, I kind of want to punch him.

  “Alright, Bear,” Mom says, planting her hands on the ground. “I’m not going to be as graceful, but we can win this. Let’s focus on going slow and steady. That’s what wins the race.”

  I don’t know that I agree with her, but I don’t have a chance to argue before Skyler blows the whistle and the race begins.

  Erin and Clayton speed off instantly, Erin’s hands moving fast as lightning as my little brother struggles to keep up behind her. Mom and I start a little slower, starting with me carefully hoisting her legs up before we talk each other through the movement.

  Left, right, left, right.

  Slow and steady.

  I have to fight to keep from grinding my teeth together as Erin and Clayton expand their lead, and they’re already rounding the cones and heading back our way when Mom and I have only made it to the half-way point. But then, something happens, and Clayton loses his footing, stumbling forward too fast for Erin to keep herself upright. They tumble to the ground, and then mutter a string of curses as they scramble up and back to the line to start again.

  “We’ve got this!” Mom yells, and she picks up the pace while I use all my focus to keep her straight and steady.

  We round the cones and make our way back, but Erin and Clayton are already hot on our heels. They round the cones behind us when we still have about halfway to go to get back to the finish line.

  I can hear them panting and plodding in the grass behind us, so I hold onto Mom tighter and yell, “Double-time, Mom. Let’s win this thing!”

  We go as fast as we can, and even still, Clayton and Erin are gaining on us. In the end, we’re so close when we all tumble over the finish line that I have no idea who actually won. We stare up at Skyler from where we’re laid out in the grass now, and she blows her whistle, walking over to the four of us.

  Then, she grabs my Mom’s hand first and then my own, lifting them high in the air.

  “Winners!”

  Mom screams, jumping up first and launching herself at me as soon as I’m standing, too. Clayton is yelling something about bullshit while I throw Mom up for a piggyback and do a victory lap with her in tow.

  When I round the cones and head back, Erin is standing with her arms crossed and a smirk on her face, shaking her head as she watches me.

  Later that evening, we’re all gathered around a giant table at the Mexican place right off campus, the ones with margaritas the size of your head and the best damn guacamole money can buy.

  When we order our second round, Clayton complains that he’s the only one other than our nephews who can’t drink. Mom placates him with a pat on the head, but when she turns to continue telling her story, Erin slides her margarita over to Clayton so he can get a sip.

  He grimaces, face contorting like he just bit into a lemon. “Ugh, why do you guys even like this stuff?”

  “Just wait, baby brother,” I tell him, swiping a chip through the guac and popping it into my mouth. “When you get to college, you’ll not only be subjected to shitty tequila, but also the questionable lager they serve up for nickel beer at the college bars.”

  “Or,” Erin says, holding up a finger. “You could be a trendsetter and not drink at all.”

  “Yeah, right,” Clayton says. “And be a loser?”

  “I didn’t drink for a while,” she tells him.

  “Really?”

  She nods. “I just…”

  Her words falter a little, her eyes flicking to mine, because I know exactly why she stopped drinking. I reach under the table and squeeze her knee, reassuring her.

  “I just got tired of it, you know? What’s fun about blacking out and not remembering what you did the night before? Or waking up feeling sick and shitty for a whole day?” Erin shakes her head. “I took a break, and even now, I drink, but not to get wasted. I prefer to enjoy what I’m drinking and take it slow.”

  My little brother frowns, nodding. “I definitely don’t want to feel shitty all day.”

  “Language,” Mom chimes in even though she’s locked into her own conversation. She shares a smile with Clayton before she goes back to talking to Janae.

  “What if I have a football game the next day? Or practice?”

  “Exactly,” I say. “Maybe you try doing your first year sober, see what you think of it.”

  He nods, and already I can see the wheels turning in his head. “Yeah. Yeah, I think I just might.”

  Just then, Camron pops out of his seat and tugs on Erin’s dress. “Miss Erin, will you come to the bubble gum machine with me?” He holds up a shiny quarter. “Dad gave me a quarter to get some!”

  Erin smiles, folding her napkin and setting it on the table before she stands. “I’d be delighted to.” Then, she pauses, looking at Cole. “You want to come, too?”

  He shrugs, but I can see it in his eyes that he doesn’t want to be left out.

  “I saw a claw machine over there,” Erin says. “Bet we can win one of those stuffed cars. Wanna try?”

  Cole smiles, and then slides out of his chair and follows Erin and Camron over to the toy machines by the hostess stand.

  The minute they’re gone, all eyes are on me.

  I blink. “What? Do I have something in my teeth?”

  “More like you’ve got a giant black stamp mark on your forehead that reads idiot,” Carleton says, which makes Janae chuckle.

  I narrow my eyes. “Okay?”

  “Why haven’t you married that girl yet?” Clayton asks, and the blood drains from my face as I look at Erin over his shoulder.

  “Who, Erin? We’re just—”

  “Friends?” Mom says on a laugh. “Sure. And I’m sober.”

  The words are punctuated with a hiccup that makes everyone chuckle.

  I shake my head, running a hand over my fade as I sit back in my chair. “It’s complicated, guys. And you’re going to make it more so if you start acting weird, so don’t.”


  “Well, my advice, son?” Mom says, leaning over the table to tap my hand. “Uncomplicate it. Tell her how you feel. The way she’s been looking at you all day, my gut tells me your confession won’t be one-sided.”

  I smile, but my stomach sinks at everything I can’t tell them. To them, it’s simple. Erin and I are young and attracted to each other, end of story.

  But we have history.

  Hell, we just started being cordial with each other again.

  I know I have to tread lightly, or I won’t just blow my chance with her romantically, but I’ll lose her altogether.

  My throat dries at the thought.

  There’s a sudden squeal from the hostess stand, and we all turn just in time to see Camron reach into the claw machine and pull out a stuffed car. He hoists it over his head victoriously and sprints toward us while Erin and Cole stay back. Erin holds up her hand, and Cole high-fives it, hanging his head shyly afterward.

  But he’s wearing a smile.

  And when Erin lifts her eyes to mine, she’s wearing one, too.

  I hold her gaze the whole way as she and Cole walk back over to the table, her cheeks reddening more and more. And when she sits down next to me, a chip hits me in the neck from the other side.

  I turn and find Clayton making big, expressive, don’t be an idiot eyes at me.

  Trust me, little brother.

  I’m trying not to.

  After dinner, I drop the family back off at their hotel, giving each of them a big hug. They fly out early tomorrow morning, but I’ll see them all again soon for graduation.

  “Take care of my boy,” Mom tells Erin when they hug.

  “I think it’s him who takes care of me,” she answers.

  “As he should.”

  I take Erin home next, both of us silent the car ride to the condo she’s sharing with Ashlei and Jess downtown. It isn’t until I park in the twenty-minute parking in front of the building and put the truck in park that I realize she’s been crying.

  She thinks she’s hiding it from me, the subtle swipe of her thumb across her cheekbone to catch the lone tear, but I see the remnants of it shining in the streetlight when I round the truck and open her door for her.