People are rushing by us, paying no attention. They’re staring at their phones, talking with their friends, and minding their own business. No one is even looking in our direction, but that doesn’t mean they weren’t a few minutes ago.
It doesn’t guarantee we’re not going to be the talk of the campus in a few hours. That the gossip won’t be centered on us the way it was the day after this all began.
“Gabby,” Quinn begins as I stand and check my watch. I only have a few minutes to get to class before I’m late. I don’t have time to analyze what just happened with him.
That’s a lie.
I have time. It’ll take me two minutes to get to my classroom. The truth is, I don’t want to talk about it. The more we talk about things, the more complicated everything seems to become. The more I question what we’re doing and the reasons we’re doing it.
Yes, I want to live happily ever after with Gavin. It’s all I’ve been thinking about since the moment he broke up with me. How I missed my one chance at happiness. How I’d never find someone else, that I didn’t want to.
Spending the rest of my life with Gavin was my endgame when this all started.
Kissing Quinn makes me question what I really want. It makes me question how I really feel.
And if I start questioning those things, this plan, my ultimate goals . . . what happens when this is all over? What happens when our fake relationship comes to an end and Quinn rides off into the sunset with Kara?
Will I be left standing alone? Destroyed all over again, only this time by my own doing?
I can’t let that happen.
I won’t.
“I need to get to class,” I state firmly, pulling the strap of my messenger bag over my head and then adjusting it over my chest before turning to walk away. “I’ll text you later about what time to meet tomorrow night.”
“I was going to pick you up.”
I feel his presence behind me. He’s close. I’m sure if I turn around, I’ll be staring at his chest. A little over a head taller than me, he’s the perfect height to tuck me under his chin. To wrap his arms around me and hold me close, our bodies fitting together like two pieces of a puzzle.
“Okay,” I find myself saying as I walk away without looking back. I know if I do, I’ll want to find out just how well our bodies fit together. To find out how it would feel to be held by him.
And those are thoughts I need to scrub from my mind. Thoughts that are only going to make me continue to question everything, including our friendship.
Because never once since meeting Quinn have I ever looked at him as more than a friend. We’ve lived together, shared a bed before, a tent when we went camping . . . I never gave being with him any thought. Hell, I’ve seen him practically naked and it never sparked anything inside me the way a simple kiss from him has me teetering on the edge of my sanity.
But now that I’m thinking about it, remembering how he looked running into the ice-cold lake at dusk, only his hands covering his manhood, it makes me wonder how I completely ignored how amazing he is. He’s all toned muscle, defined abs and arms. He even has a happy trail of dark hair leading down to what I’m assuming is beyond impressive considering he was using both of his hands to cover himself.
“You look happy.” Hearing his voice shakes me from my inner monologue. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you smile like that.”
“Well, considering you destroyed my smile, I’m not surprised.”
How did I let this happen? I was so lost in thoughts of Quinn I allowed Gavin to sneak up on me. And not only that, he’s taken up residence in the chair next to me, which means I’m stuck sitting this close to him until class ends in fifty minutes.
This could either turn out to be a good thing or a really, really bad thing.
“I’m sorry about how I ended things between us, I really am.”
His words seem sincere, but he doesn’t sound that apologetic.
“Don’t be,” I say in an attempt to brush him off as I open my laptop and prepare to take a copious amount of notes today to put a bit of separation between us.
“Really, Gabby,” he says, placing his hand on my arm and leaning closer. “I’m sorry that I hurt you. That was never my intent.”
Slowly pulling my arm away, I turn and face the front of the classroom, silently begging the professor to walk in and essentially end this torture.
I’ve wanted to hear him apologize for months. I thought that’s what I needed. I figured an apology would magically fix me, that it would make me feel better, when in fact, it makes me feel worse. Angrier at him. At the way he acted. At how public he made our breakup.
At the fact that he was so nonchalant about letting me go.
And now he wants to apologize? After all this time? Because he saw me with—
When I realize what’s happening, I have to refrain from breaking out into an award-winning grin.
The plan is working.
He wants to make amends. He might even want me back.
Has he realized what he lost? Or does he only want to be with me because he can’t have me? Because I’m with someone else now, or so he thinks.
It doesn’t matter.
All I know is I can play this one of two ways. I can either accept his apology and play nice, hoping he interprets my acceptance as an invitation to reconnect. Or I can play it cool, not say anything, and see what tomorrow night brings when we attend the frat party.
The second option is probably better. It gives me more time to come to terms with what we’re doing. With the fact Quinn and I are using each other to get what we want. To accept that we’re deceiving people, lying to them, in an attempt to make them jealous enough to want what they think they can’t have.
God, when I think about it, it makes me feel like a horrible person. When I let the facts sink in and look at what we’re doing from the outside, I realize what a tragic mess we’ve created.
And then I look at Gavin, his eyes filled with hope and love. He’s looking at me the way he used to when we first started dating. As if I was the only thing he could see, the only thing he wanted to see.
He’s looking at me the way I was looking at him right before he dropped the bomb on my heart.
Chapter Ten
QUINN
My head’s been in a fog since watching Gabby walk away yesterday. I couldn’t take my eyes off her until she disappeared inside the building, and even then I found myself staring long after I knew her class had started.
Even now, as I tug on a clean pair of jeans for the frat party I don’t want to go to, I find myself still thinking of her. Envisioning her walking away from me, the pain in my heart feels even more real than it did yesterday.
“Knock, knock,” Kara calls through the opening in my door. “Okay if I come in?”
“Sure,” I reply, buttoning my jeans and then reaching into my closet.
Gabby’s text this afternoon was specific. I needed to wear jeans with an untucked button-down shirt. Nice shoes or boots. My hair needed to be styled. She wanted me to blend in and dress the part.
Basically she wanted me to look like a frat boy, and in her mind, that meant dressing the way Gavin used to dress for these parties.
I’ve been to a few over the years. In my opinion, they’re a giant waste of time unless you’re looking to get laid. Your chances increase the further into the night it gets. Drinks are flowing. Girls get drunk. Clothes become optional.
And just as the frat party is about to die down, as people couple up and disappear behind locked doors, the real party begins.
That’s when people like Kara’s ex show up with his own variety of party favors. And he’s never alone. He always has an entourage of people with him. Most are already high. Some are looking for their next fix. The one thing they all have in common is an endless supply of cash.
Because James Camden doesn’t negotiate. He doesn’t make deals. It’s cash up front or you don’t get yourself a goodie bag.
They were both freshmen at their first frat party, and even though they didn’t drink that night, they didn’t know when to walk away. They stayed long past when the party ended talking with a few of the pledges, helping them clean up after the party.
And then James showed up.
With his bag of tricks. He took an interest in Kara, and she got caught up in his sweet talk.
She did her first line of coke that night, thinking it was no big deal. Tess claims she only stayed to keep Kara out of trouble, to keep her safe. It doesn’t add up in my mind. None of the story does.
And that’s what it is. A story.
If Tess had really been trying to keep her safe, she would have stopped Kara from snorting that shit. She would have pulled her out of there so fast her head would have been spinning.
I have a feeling there’s more to it than Tess cares to share. Especially considering she’s never gone to another frat party that I know of, yet she somehow knows what happens at each and every one. She knows more than the gossip and drunken slurs that are floating around campus. More than any one person should know. It’s as if she’s a fly on the wall at each and every one.
“Going out?” Kara asks, leaning against my door frame, her arms crossed over her chest.
She’s trying to look casual. residence What she doesn’t realize is that she’s overcompensating. She’s hugging herself so tight she’s lifting her breasts, the edge of her hot pink bra peeking over the dip in her shirt. Her smile is forced as her gaze darts back and forth between me and the wall behind my head.
“Gabby and I are going to a party on campus tonight,” I state, sliding my arm into one sleeve and then the other. I’m about to begin buttoning my shirt when Kara rushes over and begins to do it for me.
Slowly, starting at the bottom, she slides the buttons through the eye holes, her hands shaking the closer she gets to my chest. As she reaches for the last button she finally looks up and makes eye contact.
“You should leave this one undone,” she suggests, releasing her hold on my shirt and stepping back.
“You think?” I ask, fidgeting with the button.
“Unless you plan on wearing a tie.” Her voice suggests that she likes the idea, so I squash it quickly.
“No tie. It’s just a frat party.”
“Half the people there will probably be naked before you finish your second beer.”
Even though there’s a hint of laughter in her voice, she has a point. I want to blend in and wearing a tie will have the opposite effect.
Not to mention I don’t want to make it look like I’m trying too hard to impress Gabby. We’re already ‘together’ according to the gossip.
“Thanks,” I say, looking up to find Kara sucking on her bottom lips. Tearing my gaze away, I stare into her copper-colored eyes and allow myself to get lost for a moment. A long, drawn-out moment. One that produces fantasies I shouldn’t be having right now, so I change the subject, spitting out the first thing that comes to mind. “What are you and Tess up to tonight?”
“I have to go into work and pick up my paycheck, and then I think we’re going to relax and watch a movie.”
“No big party?” I can’t help but sound surprised. It’s been weeks since our house has been quiet on a Friday night. I kind of wish I was going to be here to experience it for myself. Instead, I’m off to a party at a different house. With a different person.
“No,” she replies, finally breaking eye contact. “I think I need to take a breather. It was, fun but I’m ready to focus on more important things for a while. Partying was a great escape but only a temporary one.”
Her voice is filled with shame and regret, two emotions I wasn’t sure she would ever embrace after the way she’s been acting. I hate that she feels the way she does and that she’s wearing those emotions on her sleeve, but I can’t help but be proud of the fact she’s accepting her mistakes and working to improve her life. One day at a time. One decision at a time.
“Sounds like I’ll see you both when I get home later,” I state, motioning toward my door.
As much as I’d like to keep this conversation going, I have to pick up Gabby, and if I don’t leave now, I’m going to be late for our first date.
Well, it’s not exactly a date. It depends on how you look at it.
On one hand, it’s definitely a date. We’re going out together. Just the two of us. I’m picking her up. I bought her flowers on my way home to give to her.
It doesn’t matter where we’re going. Or the reasoning behind it.
On the other hand, if I think about it being a date, I’m going to continue to question what I want and who I want. I need to keep a clear head and focus on the fact our relationship is fake. Beneficial to both of us as far as I can already see, but fake none the less.
It’s not real.
Nothing about our situation is.
Not the growing feelings. The kissing. The desire. The way my body reacts to hers.
All. Fake.
We’re playing a game of pretend. One that will end with us dating other people.
I keep reminding myself of that the entire drive to Gabby’s apartment. I repeat the words one last time for good measure before knocking on her door. I’ve almost convinced myself it’s the truth when Gabby opens the door and the flowers I’ve bought for her slip from my hand.
Without missing a beat, Gabby kneels and grabs them.
“Are these for me?” she asks, righting herself and smoothing the front of her dress.
A dress that hugs her every curve and leaves little to the imagination. Low cut in the front but only showing a hint of cleavage. Form fitting, accentuating her tiny waist and perfect hips. Then it rests just above her knees, flaring out.
The soft gray of the fabric makes the tiny slivers of green in her hazel eyes pop. I’m entranced as I stare into them. It’s as if we’re frozen in time.
“Quinn,” she finally says, waving her hand in front of my face to get my attention.
Blinking a few times before directing my attention away from her, my resolve slips.
What was I saying to myself on the way over here? Wasn’t I repeating something over and over again? Didn’t I adopt a personal mantra?
Nope.
Not that I can think of at the moment.
“Did you want to come in before we leave?”
Clearing my throat, I nod and step past her as she motions for me to come inside. My gaze immediately goes to the stark-white couch, the centerpiece of the open room, flashbacks from the other night flooding my memories.
My body covering hers. My hands roaming freely. The way our tongues danced.
“Are you feeling okay? Can I get you something to drink?” Gabby asks, sliding up next to me and bumping me with her elbow.
“Um, yeah.”
“I have red wine, bottled water, or rum. Your choice.”
Water isn’t going to be strong enough to handle what I need to drown. Red wine will remind me of the other night.
“Rum, please.”
A drink that’ll calm my racing heart. It has to. Otherwise I’m in huge trouble.
The goal for tonight is to make Gavin jealous. To do so, we have to act like a couple. Kissing. Holding hands. My arm wrapped around her shoulder protectively.
Boyfriend things.
And as her fake boyfriend, the only thing I can think about wanting to do with her is not allowed. It’s been inked in the contract as the one thing we’re not doing. Because, as friends, we wouldn’t want to ruin our relationship.
It makes sense.
As long as I don’t look at her. As long as she doesn’t stand too close. As long as no one else tries to touch what is mine.
I’m so screwed.
Chapter Eleven
GABRIELLE
It’s getting harder and harder to ignore the magnetic pull I feel when Quinn’s in the room. The growing
need to touch him, to be close to him. To feel his hands on my body.
I’m trying to remember us the way we were. To focus on that. To reclaim my sense of balance. Right now I feel off kilter. As if the world has shifted on its axis and I’m doing everything I can to stay upright.
A month ago, I would have blamed the breakup. I would have blamed the fact I have needs as much as the next person, the need to feel desired by another person. When the flame that had been burning brightly between Gavin and I was suddenly doused with water, my need didn’t extinguish with it. But I know deep down this feeling has nothing to do with losing Gavin. Or the fact I’m craving a pan of brownies.
And tonight, as I mentally prepare to purposefully flaunt our ‘relationship’ in front of Gavin, my main concerns revolve around how convincing we’re going to be. Yes, we need people to believe we’re actually dating. If they don’t, if they see through our facade, we’re doing all of this for nothing.
However, this also means we’re going to have to be flirtatious and handsy. His hands on my body. Mine on his. In public. PDA. Something I’ve been morally opposed to most of my life but seem to have no issue with when it comes to Quinn for some reason.
These things should be no big deal . . . if we’re only friends. If I was only playing along because I was trapped in a game I have a feeling is going to end poorly.
But are friends really all we are? Because I’m starting to wonder if I’m the only one of us who is feeling something.
He hasn’t said anything to give me the impression he wants more. More than we agreed to. More than the game we’re playing. Me instead of Kara.
Still, I saw the way he looked at me when I opened the door tonight. I felt his eyes as they traveled the length of my body, setting me on fire inside, fanning the flames. I saw the way his chest heaved as he took not one, not two, but three deep, calming breaths as he stared at my couch while I poured each of us a drink.
The same couch he pinned me against with his body the same night I began to question why I was doing this. If I should be doing this at all.
For All The Wrong Reasons Page 6
