“Oh, for Christ’s sake. Fine.”
He buried his face in her pillow, giving him an excuse to smell her pillow again, pretend it was her under him.
He heard her sigh.
“Done?” he asked, opening his eyes and looking at her. She had dressed into faded, fitted jeans and a tight, pale-pink t-shirt. Her hair lay wet against her chest, soaking into her t-shirt, almost making it see-through.
He could feel his erection and his eyes darkening, and he tried to stifle it, turning back to the TV yet again, as she rummaged around the room for something.
“Have you seen my grey sweatshirt?”
“Nope,” he lied. He was pretty sure that was the sweatshirt he could feel under her pillow. “Can we start this thing now? I’m going to have to go before we even start.”
“Okay. Okay!”
She started to comb her hair and realized how snarled it was, as she hadn’t left the conditioner in long enough, fretting over Colton in her dorm room, alone, doing who knows what.
“You can come sit on the bed with me. I don’t bite, Princess,” Colton offered.
She was petrified. Petrified that he would see how affected she was by his presence. She had a wet discomforting ache between her thighs just by being in the room with him, so close, and yet she didn’t want to let on.
“I know that.” She walked over and sat down.
“So…we left off pretty early. I think we have seven questions to go.” He looked for the handout in his book bag as she tried to yank the comb out of her hair, realizing it was stuck.
“Fuck,” she grumbled.
Colton started laughing. “Need help?”
“No. I’m fine.” She pulled the comb in vain.
“Come here.” He scooted over to her, leaving little to no room between them. She held her breath as Colton tangled his fingers in her hair, trying to free the rogue comb.
His hand brushed her breast, and she drew in her breath, afraid to let it out.
She thought she might actually hyperventilate if she exhaled. “Do you have it?” she asked, barely audible.
“You have so much hair, Lauren,” he said, and she felt her body tremble.
Maybe it was because he was rarely kind to her. Maybe it was because her face was only inches from his, and she could smell a mixture of chocolate and something else, something she was dying to taste on his breath. Or maybe it was because the way he looked into her eyes had her smoldering—igniting her in such a way that she had to suppress every urge, every instinct, every desire not to beg him to kiss her. She almost blurted it out, but somehow found the will not to.
It felt like they were frozen like that, stuck in the moment, both desiring one another and not being able to act or move.
He got closer, if that was even possible, trying to remove the tangled hair from the comb. He didn’t let go of her gaze. “Why were you crying today, Lauren?” His voice was husky, low. She didn’t want to answer. She didn’t want to wreck whatever moment they were having.
“Tell me,” he whispered.
She shut her eyes. She squeezed them tight. She didn’t want to tell him. She didn’t want to admit that he’d affected her, was affecting her. She didn’t want to tell him her whole, horrible past.
His fingers danced in her hair, and she stifled a moan.
He grabbed her face in his hands, forgetting about the comb. “Look at me.”
He spoke tenderly, and she didn’t understand him, what he was doing with her. One minute, cold. The next, hot.
“Please,” he said. “Look at me.”
She opened her eyes as he held her face in place. He wanted to kiss her, desperately. He knew she wanted him too, at least in that moment. He knew she did. Her eyes told him everything. And right then, they were a brilliant blue.
“Colton.” Her tone was greedy, begging for something.
“I don’t want you to cry.” And what he said next was not what he had planned. “I want to make it better.”
She couldn’t breathe. It was all-consuming. He was all-consuming. It was a pleasurable suffocation, but it would kill her if he didn’t do something—kiss her, tell her he cared, something, anything. Her whole body pulsed. Her lower belly tightened into something she had never felt, and a burning pulse beat between her thighs. She felt like she'd never be able to catch her breath.
“What the…” Beth froze upon opening the door.
Colton let go of Lauren’s face, and Lauren pushed herself away from him as quickly as she could, letting all the air escape her lungs. She wobbled, unsure of what had just happened.
Lauren tried to find composure, embarrassed, searching Colton’s eyes again, but he was gone, distant, holding the questionnaire, as if they hadn’t just shared a tender, close moment.
“What’s going on, Masters?” Beth probed. “Are you okay, Lauren?”
“Yeah of course…I…we…”
“She’s fine, Beth. We were just catching up on some homework. I was just leaving.”
“Homework? Really, Colton? You must think I’m stupid or blind or something.”
“I got my comb stuck in my hair,” Lauren explained, pointing to the virtual bird’s nest stuck in her hair. “Colton was helping me to get it out.”
“Oh shit.” Beth couldn’t help but start laughing. “Let me.”
Beth sat next to them on the bed, taking up the space between them that had appeared the moment she opened the door and ruined the moment.
Colton stood up. “Later,” he said as he made his way to the door. His white t-shirt was dripping wet from Lauren’s hair. She couldn’t believe how close he’d been to her. She didn’t want him to leave. “I’ll walk you out,” Lauren offered and got up, but Colton was already at the doorway.
“No need, Lauren. I’ve got stuff to do.”
His cruelty almost knocked the wind out of her. She followed him out anyway. “Um…okay…what about the questionnaire?”
“Guess we’re going to take the hit. I’ll talk to Blake. He likes me.”
She felt that lump again. That feeling of dread and nausea. She didn’t want him to go. She wanted to ask him what he meant when he said he wanted to make it better. But she couldn’t find her voice.
“Where do you have to go?” she asked instead, suddenly feeling beyond shy, beyond embarrassed. She’d been fully aroused. Might have done anything he wanted. She was finally coming out of her stupor.
“You really are a nosy little thing, aren’t you?”
This again? How could he be so tender one minute and then hit a light switch and be so mean? If he doesn’t want me to cry, why’s he always making me want to?
She looked down. No way would she let him see the pain he was causing. It made her want to hurt him back. She doubted she could. To hurt him, he’d have to care. And she was certain he didn’t. But she tried anyway, even as she knew it was the most immature thing she could do. “Fine. I don’t really care anyway. I have a dinner date to get to. Don’t come crying to me about your scholarship if you get a bad grade.”
He laughed.
“What’s so funny?” she asked, finally able to look him back in the eyes.
“You.”
“Me? How so?”
“We both know we don’t have to do that questionnaire. I was just seeing if you were ever going to tell me.”
She froze, humiliated. How did he know? Shit. She retaliated. “You just want that girl downstairs. Don’t try to pretend otherwise.” It was the only thing she could think to say to deflect the fact that she’d been caught.
Again, he laughed. “Yup. You got me there.”
She stilled, and Colton saw the pain in her eyes, saw what his words did to her. He could see how much he was hurting her, and he couldn’t stop himself. He didn’t want to hurt her. He wanted to console her. He wanted to hold her. He wanted to make her feel good. He wanted to take her, pleasure her, do dirty, wonderful things to her until she screamed his name from her plump, red lips. But mostly, he
wanted to know her, all of her. Instead, he left her there, hurt and confused. And he hated himself for it.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Wednesday’s class was uneventful. They both did well to ignore each other. Blake paired the class up for each student to rehearse their piece, critique one another, and get feedback before the assignment was due the following Monday. Lauren made sure Angela and Colton had left before she got up. She could get through this.
Her partner turned out to be a sweet girl from Kansas with short blonde hair and beaming green eyes. Her name was Leslie, and she was really nice. Lauren realized she had no reason to feel so alone. Leslie was far away from home too. She wasn’t the only one feeling out of place. She was a singer too, also another Musical Theatre major, and even though she was a junior in the program and not a freshman, they still had a lot in common.
“We should hang out this weekend, go see a movie or something,” Leslie said after they finished practicing for each other.
“Aren’t you going to try out for Les Mis?” Lauren asked. Leslie had a beautiful voice.
“Um…do you have eyes? I don’t think I’m what they’re looking for. I’m supposed to look like a starved, poor suffering French peasant. Not really me. Give me Hairspray or Mamma Mia even, and I’m all over it.”
Lauren smiled, and she was right. Just being a great singer or actor didn’t necessarily win you roles. Every director was looking for something specific, for that specific role. Lauren had long-ago learned that heart-breaking truth about the theatre. It needed to be the entire package. Lauren remembered reading an article, “Why You Didn’t Get the Role,” and she smiled at the quotes in her memory: You’re too short. Too skinny. Too dark. Too light. Too blonde. Too British. Too New York….and so on. On the flipside, it left room for everyone to find their way too.
“Earth to Lauren,” Leslie interjected. “So, do you want to hang out or something?”
“Sorry. Spaced there for a sec. Try-outs are Sunday, so I think I’d like to stay home this weekend. Drink a lot of coconut water, rest. I want to be my best.”
“Well, how about I come cheer you on? Moral support?”
“I would love that. Thank you, Leslie.”
Lauren felt like she was coming out of her haze. She’d eaten at Brian’s, and he was really sweet and made her laugh, even if it was a quick visit. Beth was extremely different from Lauren but stretched her out of her comfort zone and her limits, which she needed. Now Leslie was making Lauren see that in time, she would fit in and have her own friends and life. Now talking on the phone to her parents seemed less deceitful. She was starting to fit in, she was starting to find her way, and that way had nothing to do with Colton Masters.
****
Beth was blaring Prince when Lauren walked into the dorm room after a quick workout at the gym that Friday night. Stephanie was there, and both girls were only wearing towels, and barely at that, hair dripping all over the place, drinking beer.
“‘cuz tonight we’re gonna party like it’s Nineteen-ninety-nine!” Stephanie sang at the top of her lungs. Clearly, Stephanie was not going to school for singing.
“You both do know that nineteen-ninety-nine has long come and gone, right?” Lauren couldn’t help but smile. “And if Brian catches you with beer, you’re in trouble. How the heck did you get that in here?”
“Listen to the little RA’s pet!” Stephanie teased.
“Oh, leave her alone, Stephanie. She’s right. Turn down the music a little bit.” Beth looked at Lauren with a surreptitious grin. “Empty the sanitary pad box and fill with beer, and mortal man dares not to look! Gotta use the curse of being a female for something good in this unfair world.”
They laughed.
“Ingenious really,” Stephanie congratulated Beth.
“Yes,” Lauren said. “But how did you get the beer…
“Well…” Beth began.
“You know what? I don’t even want to know!” Lauren chuckled, flinging herself on her bed.
“You coming to the party tonight, Lauren?” Stephanie asked.
“Party? No. Where?”
Beth approached with caution. “Masters’ place. Are you guys…like…talking still?”
“Not really.” Lauren tried to keep her voice steady. “We had that homework assignment to do, but that was about it.”
“I think he wants in your pants,” Stephanie blurted and then covered her mouth.
“What?” Lauren tried to remain cool, calm, but her shrill tone gave her away.
“Probably thinks you’re some kind of conquest or something,” Stephanie continued.
“Yeah, well, whatever,” Beth chimed in. “Lauren’s not stupid. Now me? I’m stupid, and I’d fuck him in a heartbeat!”
Stephanie and Beth tried to high-five each other and missed, leaving them both in hysterics.
“Sorry.” Beth looked over to Lauren guiltily. “It’s true, though. He’s so fucking hot.”
“I’m going to take a shower. You two have fun. Stay out of trouble.” Lauren felt a headache coming on.
Lauren tried to keep her emotions at bay. He hadn’t even invited her. He had probably invited the whole campus except for me. Why does he despise me so much? Maybe because I lied about the questionnaire? But he seemed drawn to me, the way I’d been drawn to him.
Lauren shook her head, trying to make sense of it all. She’d felt an electric pull to him, that much she knew. But had she simply imagined him being pulled to her? Then she remembered his words—I was just seeing if you were going to tell me…like it was all a game to him, like he got close to her on the bed to trick her, that it was all just a test. It made her sick to her stomach. And her head pounded harder.
By the time she’d finished up showering, the girls were gone, and it was uncharacteristically quiet. I’m probably the only girl not at the party.
She got in some old, beat-up shorts and a tank top that her sister had given her as a gift a long time ago, and even though tattered and ill-fitting now, she couldn’t part with them. They brought her comfort. She rented Les Mis, ordered a pizza, and let herself just wallow. Lauren fell asleep to her sister’s laughter, the laughter before she was sick. Lauren still heard it from time to time.
*****
Lauren awoke to loud voices, and it startled her out of bed. She puckered her mouth together, tasting pizza in her teeth. “Ick,” she mumbled.
The voices faded, and she padded over to the door, looked both ways, and snuck down the hall to the bathrooms to brush her teeth. Her hair that she braided so religiously at night, something her mom started to do when she was younger that stuck, had fallen out, and she removed the elastic, finding a little pizza sauce in it. “What a mess!” she said to the sleepy face in the mirror, wetting her hair a bit to clean it off. She prayed she wasn’t slipping into the depression she’d once faced but conquered.
As she exited the bathroom, she could hear Colton’s voice. No. It couldn’t be. Then she heard a female voice. And she realized it was Beth, and at that moment, Lauren froze. Are Colton and Beth hooking up? Is she bringing him back to the room? Lauren couldn’t help but remember her first night in the dorm, listening to Beth all night with some guy she had yet to ever see again.
She watched them walk to the room, and Lauren didn’t know what to do. Should she go to Brian’s room? She certainly wouldn’t be able to survive listening to the guy she fantasized losing her virginity to fuck someone only inches from her. She couldn’t handle what was happening to her. She felt sick, torn, angry and hurt, pissed and upset, confused, and conflicted. She stayed hidden.
She looked down at her outfit, her breasts completely visible through her tight, pink tank top, her shorts barely covering her ass, and she simply couldn’t go to Brian’s room looking like that. He might get mixed messages, even though he wasn’t like that.
It was going to be a long night. A painful night. But perhaps it would finally show Lauren the type of guy Colton Masters really was. She waited at least
twenty minutes before she opened the door.
To her surprise, the lights were out and there was no noise coming from Beth’s bed, except for her snoring. Lauren looked at the clock. It was three am. That was quick. Had they simply passed out together? Had Colton snuck out past her?
She crawled into bed and then screamed, jumping clear up off the bed, bumping her head on the top bunk. “Ow,” she moaned, rubbing her head.
“Sssh,” Colton said, flicking on his cell phone to illuminate his face. He was lying half-naked in Lauren’s bed.
“What the fuck is going on? What are you …”
“Sssh,” he said again, placing his hand over her mouth. She could see that cross tattoo. “You’re going to wake her up.”
“Why the fuck are you in my bed? Get the fuck out,” Lauren whispered angrily. Her heart was racing.
“I can’t.”
“What? You can’t? Of course you can. This is my bed. What are you doing here?”
“Beth got intoxicated and needed a ride home. Stephanie had passed out at my place. I was the only one not drinking. Ironic considering it was my party.”
“So, go home now. She’s safe. You’ve done your good Samaritan deed for the day.”
“I told you. I can’t.”
“You’re making no sense.”
“I can’t find my keys.”
“What?”
“Yup. I’m an idiot. I can’t find them anywhere.”
“Well, go retrace your steps!”
“I did already. Come on, Lauren. It’s late. I’ll look tomorrow.”
“Well…you’re not staying in my bed. Don’t you have a friend on the first floor you can go shack up with?” Lauren didn’t know why she said it. She didn’t want him going there.
“Oh, come on, Lauren. You weren’t here two minutes ago. Beth thought you were going to your friend’s place to watch a movie or something. Leslie? We thought you wouldn’t be here.”
Play Only For Me: (A New Adult Romance) Page 6
