Heat Up the Fall: New Adult Boxed Set (6 Book Bundle)

by Gennifer Albin

  We grabbed omelets at a local twenty-four-hour breakfast place. Evan assumed I wanted to go home with him afterward, based on our history and also the fact that I asked if his roommates were home, and he even paid the check. Stand up guy.

  His old house smelled slightly of mold, exactly as I remembered it from last year. Evan’s room stunk of boy—a mixture of dust bunnies and stale linens. Our mouths reconnected, feeling their way along old, overgrown paths, awkward but improving. He stripped off my shirt and we fell into the bed, my legs wrapped around his hips and his hands in my hair.

  I shimmied out of my jeans after he managed to undo the button with one hand. His excitement pressed against me, throbbing and hard. I spent the entire time trying not to cry, trying not to imagine Cole’s face, Cole’s gentle, demanding, sure hands, and the way we moved together in an effortless surge toward mutual satisfaction that I’d never had with Evan, or Liam—or anyone else, for that matter.

  When Evan’s fingers wriggled inside my underwear, I froze and jerked away. Tears filled my eyes then, refusing to be bitten back any longer, and I yanked my pants back on then felt around for my top.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I’m sorry. I can’t do this. I thought I could, but I can’t.”

  Evan sat on the edge of the bed, watching me with a confused look that would have been comical if I didn’t want to kill myself for being so pathetic. “Is it me?”

  “No. It’s me.” It was me. Evan hadn’t changed at all since the last time we rolled around naked in this room.

  But I had. And this wasn’t enough anymore.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  I picked up Caroline a few weeks later, feeling badly for being so wrapped up in Cole and then my own heartbreak that our friendship had taken a backseat. The Wizard of Oz was playing at the artsy movie theatre near campus, and I knew she’d never seen it on the big screen. I’d invited Noelle, too, but she couldn’t come.

  Caroline helped me have a good time, giggling over the way I dumped the entire bag of M&Ms into our popcorn and wide-eyed over the sight of one her favorite movies in the theatre. Afterward, we gathered our jackets and trash and decided to go get ice cream.

  “Are you going to come back and help at the theatre?”

  “I don’t know, kiddo. Maybe after Our Town is finished.” I felt bad lying to her, but I couldn’t explain why I wasn’t coming back. Maybe I could next year, after Cole graduated.

  It was so loserly of me to avoid him. I felt stronger after this year. My path to New York took better shape with each performance I handed in, and I knew—just knew—things would work out for me there. Cole had shown me that, while I’d assumed choosing sex over feelings made me strong, it really just made me scared, and no matter how badly I hurt right now, I couldn’t go back to being that girl, either.

  Right now, being alone was my best option. Focus on the future. On me.

  “I asked Mr. Cole why you weren’t helping anymore.”

  My heart thudded and I swallowed hard. “What did he say?”

  “He got a funny look on his face and said he didn’t know. Did you guys have a fight?”

  “Hey, Ruby.” A girl’s voice interrupted, flooding me with gratitude until I turned around.

  Audra smiled, as frank and open as she was the first time I’d met her. A girl with long, dark hair and a sly, curious look about her stood at Audra’s shoulder, and they both sported Kappa letters on their pullover rain jackets.

  I vaguely remembered meeting her at the Homecoming tailgate. Blair something.

  “Hey.” I glanced down at Caroline, smoothing a hand over her silky blonde hair. “This is Caroline. Caroline, this is Mr. Cole’s sister, Audra.”

  Audra’s eyebrows went up at the introduction, probably trying to figure out how this ten-year-old knew both her brother and me. “Hi, Caroline. You must be that great little actress my brother told me about.”

  Caroline grinned. “I’m not as good as Ruby, but almost.”

  Audra laughed. “I have no doubts. This is my friend, Blair Paddington. Blair, this is Ruby Cotton. You met at Homecoming.”

  We all said hello and then moved toward the exit. Audra grabbed my arm at the last minute, pulling me back while Blair and Caroline wandered into the lobby, chatting about the movie.

  “You still owe me coffee. What are you doing now?”

  “I told Caroline I’d take her out for ice cream, then her mom is picking her up for some school program.”

  “Meet me in an hour, then? At The Grind?”

  I didn’t want to. It was impossible to spend time with any of the Stuarts and not be reminded of Cole—the way Audra smiled with her single dimple was no exception—but her eager sweetness was hard to resist. “Okay, but I can’t stay long.”

  ***

  She waited for me at a table by the window, steam rising from what appeared to be a cup of tea. She motioned to the one across the table, waiting in a large red mug. “I ordered you tea. Sorry if you prefer coffee.”

  “I like both. Thank you.” I shrugged out of my jacket and slung it across the back of the chair, then took a seat.

  “I’m not here to tell you to get back with Cole,” she said after a moment of awkward silence. “I like you. Even if my brother did something to piss you off, or if you don’t like him or whatever, I still think we should be friends.”

  “Okay….”

  I didn’t know what exactly we had to talk about, but I didn’t need to worry. Audra chattered about a range of topics, touching on her holiday at home in Scotland, my performance as Annie, the fact that she hadn’t a clue what to major in after almost a whole year at Whitman, and the crush she had on a freshman Alpha Chi named Chace.

  “So, what’s new with you?” she asked, finally taking a breath and sipping tea that had to be cold. I liked listening to her talk; she had an easy way about her and her voice soothed as easily as those of her brothers. Not to mention the longer she talked, the less I had to say about me.

  “Not much. Annie ended and rehearsals started for Our Town. Whitman is going to try to cram in a spring play, too—I think Death of a Salesman—so those auditions will be coming up soon.”

  “No rest for the weary actress, huh?”

  “Nope.”

  “You’re planning to give New York a go after graduation?”

  “That’s the plan. There have been some pretty influential directors sniffing around, and I’ve still got another year of performances to round out my resume. I think I’ll be able to work.” I paused, a comment on the tip of my tongue that I hadn’t really considered until now, at least not consciously. Audra made me comfortable, though. “If it doesn’t work out, or if I get tired of the grind, I might teach acting. I really loved working with the kids at the Coterie.”

  “Cole said you were really good with them. Why don’t you go back?”

  I shrugged, trying to hide the fact that the simple sound of his name punched me in the stomach. Her keen emerald eyes said she didn’t miss it, though, and she reached over to cover my hand with hers. The simple gesture of friendship brought tears to my eyes but I blinked them back. I was tired of crying.

  “Is it because of Cole?” When I nodded, she squeezed my fingers. “I know I said I wasn’t here to talk about him, or you guys, but we can if you want. What happened?”

  “I think we wanted it to work more than it actually did work.”

  She gave an unladylike, derisive snort. “Please. I might not have spent much time with the two of you, but all accounts from around campus and from the twins point to the opposite.”

  “Being compatible in bed and in life are two different things.”

  “Ruby, just the fact that Cole took you to bed speaks volumes. He trusted you.” She leveled her gaze, making me feel trapped underneath the accusation. “He told you about Poppy. And you left. You judged him.”

  “Not because I think he should feel responsible for her death, Audra. God. We just…I’m her. Not suita
ble. Look at how I met your parents, for shit’s sake. How could I ever have faced them again?”

  “First of all, you let people make you feel worse about your family than you should. I know for a fact that Cole doesn’t give a shit how much money you have or where it came from, and the rest of my family doesn’t, either. Second, we all laughed our asses off and teased Cole mercilessly for the rest of the day after you let him have it.”

  “Teased him for being involved with such an uncouth loudmouth, you mean.” My throat tried to close again.

  “See, that’s what I’m saying. You hate that people assume the worst of you, but you go ahead and assume the worst of other people. I know it’s probably because someone or a bunch of someones treated you shitty, but it’s not attractive.”

  My irritation spiked at her rough words, but eased as quickly at her caring expression. She wasn’t being mean, and if I was honest, she was right.

  “We teased him because we’ve watched him self-destruct over what happened to Poppy. We’ve hurt while he’s withdrawn, refused to date, refused to believe that he deserves to be happy with a girl again while Poppy’s gone forever—refused to allow himself intimacy because he’s determined not to be irresponsible. I swear, when you were shouting at him about his stuffy morals, we were all grinning at each other like idiots, trying not to laugh out loud. My parents would love to shake your hand for being the girl who finally made Cole happy again. Except now he’s not.”

  My heart pounded, desperate to believe that Cole might not have treated me like Poppy in the end. That he cared about me, and the all the proof I needed was that he’d chosen me, out of everyone, to stand beside and believe in a tentative future.

  I wanted that future with Cole so badly it hurt. Audra’s honesty made me believe it was still possible, but whether or not he would forgive me for turning my back on him at his most vulnerable remained to be seen.

  “I didn’t want to hurt him. You’re right—my own issues sent me running more than his confession, but it’s too late to make it right. I’m sure he’s moved on.”

  Audra rolled her eyes. “My idiot brother is nuts about you. He moped around the entire holiday, staring at your website and your calendar to feel like he knew what was going on in your life. He made me and Nox go to your play—bang-up job, by the way—and report every single moment. You hurt his feelings not believing in him, but he’s too sad not to forgive you.” She glanced down at her phone. “Gotta go. I have philanthropy committee stuff.”

  The information she’d passed along during the last ten minutes threatened to overwhelm me. I needed a few minutes to sit and digest, so I didn’t move to get up, but I did reach out and grasp her arm. “Thank you, Audra.”

  “Hey, I have to do my part. You think Cole thinks he’s too good for you, and my brother’s sitting at home, convinced you’re too good for him. The two of you are acting like idiots.” She smiled to soften her words, a deep dimple creasing in her peachy cheek, then strode out into the gray February day.

  All this time, I’d thought that my attitude was the best way to handle life, and not just at Whitman. Ever since we’d moved to St. Charles in fifth grade, it had been simpler for me to play the part of the white trash princess than to really try to step into my new class of society.

  It was like Cole told me—I allowed people to continue to treat me a certain way, because I expected them to react to me like an outsider. I’d heard the story about Poppy and seen myself in her circumstances, but maybe we weren’t the same. If I’d gotten knocked up by stupid Michael and he’d made a rude comment about my being a gold-digger, I had to believe my outcome would have been different.

  Poppy must have felt as though she had no choice, nowhere to turn. Her family had cast her out, Cole had ignored her; she’d been terribly alone, desperate to fix it and my heart ached for that girl. But my parents, for all of their faults, loved me unconditionally. I had Emilie and my sisters, Geoff, and even the kids at the Coterie.

  My future belonged to me, and my life meant more than who I dated, or who decided what “good enough” meant. For all of my struggles with self-belief, that had always been true.

  And Cole had seen all of that right from the very beginning. He’d never equated Poppy and me, and he’d been the one to believe that, in the ways that matter, I was as good as anyone else.

  Better, even.

  I didn’t deserve him. That wasn’t going to stop me from trying to get him back.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  It turned out the swim team was out of town for a meet. Nerves built in my stomach, infected my limbs, and made it hard to sit still. Back in my room at the DE house, I decided to check out the website. It had languished while Cole and I disappeared into the new relationship black hole, but Whitman was a small school and most everyone who joined had done it early last fall.

  Referrals and ratings still occasionally popped up, but no new members had applied in over two months. Nothing had come through for Quinn, since he obviously wasn’t sleeping around anymore, but I did have a new one for Toby Wright. I still wanted to hate him more than I actually did; he was always fun and polite around me.

  The server stopped responding in the middle of my session, even though the rest of the internet and my e-mails weren’t affected. My palms turned clammy and I called Noah.

  “Hey, this is Noah, I’m screening you.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Noah, it’s Ruby. Something’s wrong with the website.”

  It didn’t come back up over the next ten minutes, but a short text from Noah cleared up the mystery:

  You’re busted.

  Fuck me running.

  The email from Chancellor Lewis’s office arrived less than twenty minutes later, requesting my presence for a disciplinary meeting the following morning. The swim team wouldn’t be back until later, and I didn’t have Monday classes this semester, so I had nothing to occupy my mind until the meeting.

  Full of hopping discomfort and that old familiar feeling that trouble lurked around the corner, I ran lines for Our Town in front of the mirror for almost an hour. The second e-mail, this time from Chaney and DE Standards, arrived around ten. I had to meet with them tomorrow, too, but that worried me less than the chancellor. DE wouldn’t kick me out, and I could afford the fine.

  I didn’t think Whitman would boot me, either, but the thought of what my punishment might be kept my eyes open late into the night. If they did kick me out, I could go to New York. No one there would give a shit if I had a college degree or not, and I’d already snagged great connections from both Geoff and the theatre department here. I wanted the degree, though. Who knew if I’d still be so committed to an acting career in ten years, or twenty? I would never leave theatre entirely. It was as natural to me as breathing, and I’d suffocate without it.

  It mattered to me that I finished this thing I started, though, and I wasn’t ready to leave Emilie and my sisters just yet.

  They wouldn’t expel me. At a school like Whitman, a rogue website and hijacking access to student e-mail accounts rated pretty low on a list of infractions. They hadn’t even kicked out the son of the French president when he’d hacked into the school’s accounting system and borrowed enough money to rent a party plane to Paris.

  Still, I didn’t close my eyes at all, and I felt like hell the next morning even after a shower. I pulled on my favorite khaki skirt and paired it with brown boots and a cute white Whitman U polo—it never hurt to show school spirit when one was getting called onto the carpet.

  I couldn’t care less about the website getting shut down. The fact that I knew firsthand that my lowest-rated guy was actually fucking dynamite in bed kind of diminished its usefulness, in my mind. This year had changed my mind about sex and relationships. Like Emilie had promised, when I’d found the right guy, it all clicked into place. I didn’t know if going back to empty, if fun, sexual relationships was even possible now.

  The February day was sunny and cool for Florida, maybe around
seventy degrees. Students filled the manicured walkways between stately brick buildings, hauling backpacks and hustling alone, standing in groups, couples walking hand-in-hand. My palms were cold and slicked with sweat by the time I sat on the tan couch in Chancellor Lewis’s reception area, and when the admin finally called me inside, I almost ralphed.

  The chancellor of Whitman, a handsome man in his forties with one green eye and one blue, sat at the head of a small conference table in a room without windows. There were three other adults present—two on my left I didn’t recognize, and Doctor Paladino on the right.

  “Have a seat, Miss Cotton,” the chancellor stated, motioning to the chair at the opposite head of the table.

  I slid into it quickly, swallowing hard and glad I hadn’t eaten breakfast.

  “It has come to our attention that you’ve been running a referral website on this university’s servers that’s sexual in nature, as well as hacking into the database that contains student e-mail addresses.” He paused as though waiting for me to say something, but he hadn’t asked a question and I figured talking could only hurt me.

  He grunted, then continued. “This is the disciplinary committee that will deal with these accusations. This is Dr. Ernst and Dr. Hammond, and you know Dr. Paladino—she’s here because she can vouch for your character. Do you have anything to say?”

  I cleared my throat, drawing a little strength from the small but encouraging nod from my theatre professor. “The website was my idea. I had help with the computer stuff but I’m not selling anyone out. It was just supposed to be for fun, or maybe to help out the girls on this campus who were going on a bunch of shit—er, bad dates. I didn’t mean to hurt anyone.”

  “Yet, you realize that mean gossip and judgments regarding…these kinds of things can be potentially hurtful to a student’s psyche.”

  I couldn’t help it; I snorted. The chancellor’s eyebrows went up and his lips pursed, so I hastened to explain. “Forgive me, Chancellor Lewis, but if you think the egos of the men who attend Whitman can be so easily damaged, you must not spend much time with them.”