Palm South University: Season 2, Episode 6 (Palm South University #2)

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Palm South University: Season 2, Episode 6 (Palm South University #2) Page 4

by Kandi Steiner


  “And that is?”

  His grin widens. “Turn around.”

  I do as he says, tucking my knees up slightly as I turn my back to him. When his strong hands find my shoulders and he begins to massage my tense muscles, I moan out loud.

  “Oh my God,” I breathe. “That feels amazing.”

  “Mmm,” Landon groans with me, kissing the soft skin just below my ear. “You’ve been so stressed lately, Ex. I know you’ve had a lot going on with the website and with recruitment, but for tonight, even if it’s just for tonight, you should let loose. Try to enjoy yourself. We’re only young once, you know.” He plants another kiss and it spreads warmth through my chilled skin.

  “I don’t know, I’m on the executive board. I don’t want to get too crazy . . .”

  “You won’t. Just relax. Here,” he says, squeezing my shoulders once more before removing his hands. I turn in my seat to face him as he pulls a leather-bound flask from the inside of his jacket. “This should help.”

  Chewing my bottom lip, I eye the flask before lifting my gaze to Landon. He looks so happy, so content, and he’s been a complete gentleman to me all semester. I’m not even sure why he’s stuck around for as long as he has. Maybe he knew I needed someone to lean on. Maybe he’s a sort of gift from the gods for putting me through such hell lately.

  “You know what,” I concede, taking the flask from his hand. “You’re right. I think I should loosen up a bit. The semester is almost over and I feel like I haven’t had one ounce of fun this entire time.” I cheers to him and he pulls a different flask out, tapping the lip of mine with his.

  “Cheers, baby.”

  We both knock back a few swigs, me cringing as the liquid burns my throat. I shake it off quickly and plaster on a smile, throwing my fist in the air. “Let’s party!”

  The entire bus erupts with my declaration and Landon’s eyes devour me, lighting my insides on fire more than the alcohol. Maybe I have been too uptight lately. I tried the whole staying-sober-to-maintain-control thing during Spring Break and look where that got me. Is it possible I’ve been going about this all wrong?

  It’s time to let go of everything that’s been plaguing me. What’s done is done, and Clinton’s apology somehow made me feel like everything will be okay. For the first time this semester, I’m going to enjoy myself.

  Landon tips his flask once more and I follow his lead, this time pulling him in for a long kiss once the liquid settles in my stomach. His hands find my waist and grip tight as I snake my fingers into the back of his hair, pulling him closer, needing his escape. With each stroke of his tongue against mine, I feel the water clearing. With each brush of his skin against mine, I feel less and less stressed. It’s like my mind and body are screaming together for me to let go, to live life tonight. So, when Landon pulls back, his brows pinched together and his eyes on my mouth, I answer his question without him having to ask it.

  “Screw the lip gloss.”

  I CAN STILL FEEL THAT NIGHT.

  If I close my eyes, like I am right now, I can go back there so easily, as if I never left. The sand between my toes, the damp ocean air in my hair, the hot night sticking to the skin of my thighs just below the hem of my dress. And if I run my fingertips across the same places he touched me in the sand under the stars, it’s like he’s still here. My thumb brushes my bottom lip and I feel his teeth biting the same spot. My fingers slide shakily to grip the back of my neck and I feel his handprint, instead.

  And when I open my eyes again, just before my vision clears, I swear I can still see his eyes.

  “You okay, Little?” Skyler asks just as I pop my eyes open. Warm brown eyes flash in the mirror before being chased away by reality. “You have a headache or something? I think I might have some Advil.”

  Skyler starts sifting through her clutch and I force a smile, shaking my head. “No, no, I’m fine, Big. Just a little sore from . . . yoga,” I lie.

  “Well, at least the soreness paid off. You look amazing tonight.” She smiles before leaning forward in the bathroom mirror to fix her lipstick. I follow suit, smoothing my hands over the sleek black fabric of my dress. My arms are covered with thin lace that trails up to my shoulders before breaking into a conservative top. Everything is covered, the black framing and slimming me all the way down to the middle of my thigh where it breaks for one, long slit—just enough for my pale leg and strappy gold shoes to peek through. My normally frizzy, crazy red hair is tamed, softly curled, and falling lightly over one shoulder. Erin did my makeup, and whatever eyeshadow she used sets my emerald eyes ablaze against it. I feel beautiful, yet at the same time, inadequate.

  Because I’m here alone.

  Grayson should be here, waiting for me on the dance floor, tattoos covered by a tuxedo jacket. But he broke up with me, and I can’t even blame him for it. How do you stay with someone when they can’t deny they have feelings for someone else?

  Skyler and I finish our touchups and rejoin our group in the ballroom. I thought the semi-formal venue was beautiful, but this? This is absolutely breathtaking. Our executive board rented out a private plantation, and the fact that this house used to entertain one family and their guests is mind blowing. It’s huge and regal, the grand architecture giving off a royal feel with just a hint of southern hospitality. The ballroom is fit for a princess or a wedding, which I imagine it’s probably played home to both at some point.

  Skyler runs off to Erin as soon as we get back inside, who, surprisingly, is having more fun than any of us. She must have pre-gamed pretty hard on the bus because when she piled off it, her eyes were low, hair mussed, and she was clearly ready to party. She was the first on the dance floor and hasn’t left since. She may be a little tipsier than the rest of us but I don’t think anyone is even judging because she deserves this. It’s nice to see her smiling, dancing, letting go.

  “Hi.” His voice is low, timid, hesitant. I consider ignoring him, since that tactic has been working in my favor all night so far, but with him so close, it’s nearly impossible now.

  “Hi, Adam.” I keep my eyes on the dance floor, watching as Erin and Skyler captivate everyone around them.

  “Need a drink?”

  As much as I don’t want him to be the one to get me a drink, I really do need one right now, so I concede. “Sure.”

  We walk in silence over to the bar and Adam slides up first, ordering us two Maker’s & Cokes. I almost open my mouth to argue with him, to ask him why he thinks I’d want to drink that, but the truth is whiskey is necessary to get through tonight. Apparently, he gets that. Besides, any words I had on my tongue disappeared when he looked back over his shoulder at me and crooked that signature smile of his. Adam in board shorts or a frat tank is one thing, but seeing him in a perfectly-fitting tux, complete with bowtie, makes my knees weak, no matter how loudly I yell at them to hold it together.

  “Having fun?”

  I clasp my hands together and stare down at my fingers, noting how the light reflects off the gold polish. “Mm hmm.”

  He hands me my drink and I take it without looking up, sipping from the skinny black straw and letting the liquid burn, just like it did before Spring Break.

  “Cassie . . .” he starts, but I cut him off.

  “So who are you here with, anyway?” I ask, snapping my head up to look him in the eyes. His brow drops low as he swallows, shifting.

  “No one.”

  I scoff. “What do you mean, ‘no one’? You can’t just come to the Kappa Kappa Beta formal without someone inviting . . .” my words trail off as I note his nervous eyes watching those close enough to us to overhear. “Oh my God. Did you sneak into formal?”

  He pauses, a guilty grin spreading on his lips. “Maybe.”

  “Why? To try to get me to talk to you?”

  “No,” he says quickly, but his eyes drop to his drink. “Yes. Well, kind of.” He blows out a long, slow breath before lifting his gaze to me once more. “I just had to apologize. I want you to know I
’m sorry, for whatever that’s worth.”

  “For?”

  “For . . .” He clearly hasn’t thought that far. Maybe he didn’t think he’d get the chance to say he was sorry, and now that I let him get it out, he’s wondering what exactly he apologized for in the first place. “I don’t know, Cassie. I’m not sorry for kissing you,” he says the words easily, like they don’t rob my next breath. “I probably should be, but I’m not.”

  “So then what are you apologizing for?” I ask again, softer this time.

  “Hurting you. Confusing you. Making you cry.” He shrugs. “Should I go on? I’m sure you could help me build the list of things I should be sorry for.”

  My brows pinch together as I study his face. I find nothing but sincerity. My eyes flick down to the water beading on the outside of my glass and I laugh a little before peeking up at him through my lashes. “I can’t believe you snuck into my formal.”

  He smiles with me, relief exhaling from his chest. “How else could I dance with you?”

  Adam holds out his hand just as the slow melody of a familiar song starts to play. I chew my cheek, debating if I should, and just as I reach my hand out to place it in his, I pause, sucking in a breath when my eyes focus behind him. It’s not the DJ playing the acoustic tune.

  It’s Grayson.

  “Good evening, Kappa Kappa Betas,” his gruff voice speaks into the microphone and my sisters all cheer, half of them visibly swooning as Grayson’s eyes scan the crowd. I’ve only seen him play in the coffee shop, but he always looks comfortable there—confident. Right now, he’s plucking away at the strings, missing a few notes here and there, finding his footing, cheeks slightly flushed behind his beard.

  He’s nervous.

  But when his gray-blue eyes finally find me, he smiles, radiant, as if he found exactly what he was looking for. “I’m sorry to interrupt your formal, and I promise to let the DJ get you back to dancing, but first, I have a little story to tell you. Is that okay?”

  More cheers. I abandon my glass on the bar and slowly walk toward the stage, eyes never leaving his.

  “Some of you already know that a certain redheaded sister of yours played hard to get the first time I saw her in Cup O’ Joes.” A few giggles break out and all eyes turn to me. “I almost gave up on her, I almost took no for an answer. But something inside me wouldn’t let me let her walk away.” A collective aww. “Now I knew that she would be sweet, that she would be fun. But I never could have known that she would bring a light to my life that no one else ever could.” He swallows and stops strumming just long enough to run a hand over his beard. “Sorry, nervous habit.” More laughs.

  He starts again, the chords stronger, more sure. “Cassie, I knew letting you walk away that first time would be a mistake, and yet I made the even bigger mistake of walking away from you. And I regret it. Because here’s the thing . . .” His strums turn even more familiar and I can’t fight the smile on my lips when the tune of Train’s Hey Soul Sister comes together. “I don’t want to miss a single thing you do tonight.”

  With that, he kicks the beat in and starts crooning out the first set of lyrics, everyone in the room singing with him. All the girls rush around me, their arms enclosing me and making me sway but I can’t stop staring at Grayson and he won’t stop staring at me. His smile is bright, his eyes hopeful as he puts his heart on the line in front of my entire chapter. Each word he sings, each note that finds my ears sends me even higher. I’m light, almost too light on my feet and I grab ahold of Skyler’s arm so I don’t float away. When the last note plays, Grayson jumps down from the stage, landing hard on both feet before pulling his guitar overhead and leaving it behind. He stands there in front of the stage, heart open, and I don’t waste one second before crossing the space between us and throwing my arms around his neck, pressing my lips against his to the sound of applause.

  “I thought,” I try, but he stops me.

  “I know. I did, too.” He kisses me again, hands fisting at the lower back of my dress as mine slide into his beard. “I just decided that he can’t have you. Not yet. Not until I do everything in my power to prove to you that I deserve you more than he does.”

  It’s like his words have a direct connection to my heartbeat. It hammers hard against my chest, ringing my ears as I try to focus on his words. He can’t have you.

  But what if he already does?

  Grayson wraps me in his arms as the DJ plays the next track, kicking the room back into action. When he pulls back, a crowd of my sisters engulfs us, all wanting to talk to Grayson. He just smiles his charming smile and answers all their questions as I hang on his arm, wondering how he’s so perfect. But my stomach sinks a little when I catch sight of Adam’s back as he pushes through one of the exits. He just apologized to me and I walked away without so much as an apology accepted.

  “I’ll be right back, going to grab us drinks,” I say to Grayson, lifting up on my toes to kiss his cheek swiftly. His brows pull inward for just a moment before he smiles and nods, listening again to one of the sisters in my pledge class as she tells him she’s been looking into guitar lessons.

  My hands are shaking slightly as I push through the same door Adam just did moments ago, finding myself alone with him in the large, fully-stocked house library. He’s facing the far bookshelf, hands in his pocket, eyes focused straight ahead like he’s picking out his next read. The door shuts softly behind me, blocking out the noise until only our breathing can be heard.

  “Adam . . .”

  “Don’t,” he says, back still to me.

  “What?”

  He turns, dark eyes determined. “Don’t. Don’t say my name like that. Like you’re about to tell me I’m too late. Like you’re about to look me in the goddamn eyes and tell me you’re back with him.”

  My lips quiver as I press them tightly together. “Adam, we talked about this.”

  “Just wait for me,” he pleads, louder this time, his feet moving toward me. “Maybe it won’t be crazy as president. Maybe I’ll have plenty of time. Maybe all that shit was just me grasping at something to break up with Skyler because I knew deep down that it’s you I should be with.” His breaths are labored, chest heaving.

  I close my eyes tight. “It’s not the right time, Adam.”

  “Why? Because of him?” He gestures to the ballroom.

  “It’s not fair of you to ask me to give him up when I never asked that of you with Skyler!” My voice cracks. “You’re president now. You can’t ask me to wait for you to figure out if that means you’ll have time for me or not. It’s not fair.”

  “Of course it’s not fair, Cassie!” Adam scoffs. “Is anything with us? How the hell do you ever expect me to not be selfish when it comes to you?” His tongue jets out to wet his lips and his hands find his waist. He hangs his head, shaking it just slightly.

  “The timing isn’t right,” I whisper again.

  He snaps his eye to mine again. “What if you fall in love with him?” His hands fly up. “Don’t answer that.” And I don’t, because the truth is, I could.

  The truth is I might already be on my way.

  For a moment, we just stand there, Adam’s fingers pinching the bridge of his nose while mine grip the edges of my dress like it’ll somehow hold me steady.

  “I should probably get back out there,” I say softly and he just nods, too much, as if he’s trying to convince himself of something. I make to turn, but stop myself. “I still want to be friends, Adam.”

  He winces, a low groan leaving him as if I just threw a punch straight into his stomach. I guess in a way I did.

  There’s nothing more to say, so I make a move toward the door.

  “Cassie,” he calls out, his hand catching the crook of my elbow as I turn. My eyes focus on the point of contact, noting the slight tremble in his hands as they glue me to this spot. “Just because the timing isn’t right for us now doesn’t mean it never will be.”

  I squeeze my eyes tight as he leans forward
, pressing his lips to my forehead before letting me go. He crosses the room quickly, not looking back once, and when the door closes behind him and I’m left alone, the skin his lips touched burns almost as much as my heart.

  EVERYTHING’S GOING TO BE OKAY.

  It’s taken me a while to get to this point, but I know it’s the truth. I’m finally feeling lighter, laughing and dancing with Skyler to an old 90s hip hop song as I celebrate the end of another semester. We’re on the brink of summer, and in just a couple of weeks I’ll be on my way home to spend time with Clayton.

  Shawna hurt me, I can’t deny that. I won’t act like I’m too tough to be affected by a girl. The truth is, I cared about her—a lot. But at the end of the day, I look out for number one—me. So, I let her go that night in the rain, and this summer, I’ll focus on my family and come back to PSU regrouped, centered, and ready to take on whatever new challenges may come.

  “Shit, Bear,” Skyler says, grabbing my arm. “You’re bleeding.” She holds up my fist where the cuts from Alex have split open.

  “Fuck,” I murmur, pressing my other hand over the wounds. “Be right back.”

  I weave through the crowded dance floor and head straight for the bathroom, pushing the door open with my back and flipping the water on with my elbow before submerging my hand under the faucet. When the blood flow is under control, I wrap a paper towel around my knuckles and apply pressure, the stinging a reminder of the trouble I caused by fighting Alex.

  Omega Chi has been under watch for a while now. It’s one thing to party hard, but to get busted for the website and then put the kid responsible for it in the hospital? That’s something nationals won’t tolerate, even if the little bastard did deserve every hit.

  I was called into a conference call with Alec, several other alumni brothers and the president of our national chapter earlier this week. I’ve never really taken anything they said seriously before now, but they all made it clear that this is it—we’re on our last chance. One more strike, and we’re out. They told me to take the summer to cool off and figure out what’s important to Omega Chi as an organization. Matt just handed over the presidency to my Little’s close friend, Taylor, and as much as I like him as a beer pong partner, I’m worried about him as president. I hope we can team up to get our fraternity back in line, but I’ll worry more about that later. Tonight, I’m going to dance with my best friend and take shots and say goodbye to spring semester.

 

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