His Curvy Cougar (The Halloween Honeys)

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His Curvy Cougar (The Halloween Honeys) Page 4

by Chantel Seabrook


  “So that’s it, this is over?” I ask, my heart already closing itself off from being hurt yet again.

  “Is that what you’re choosing?”

  I swallow. In today’s precarious work environment, a full-time job working as a research scientist in a research-centered hospital is a dream job, especially right after graduation. It’s what I’ve spent my entire twenties working toward. And now it’s within my grasp. I can’t give that up for someone I’ve been sleeping with for a week.

  “I’m going to dinner with him, Austen.”

  Austen lifts his eyebrows, shaking his head. “It’s probably for the best, anyways, Samantha. You aren’t just too good for Gavin, you were probably too good for me too.”

  He leaves without another word, and I don’t even know what to say.

  Tears fall down my cheek, my phone still in my hand.

  Why do I feel so awful when this is what I want?

  8

  Austen

  My body is beat as I head into the frat house. I killed myself all day by working out — the only way I could get my mind off Samantha.

  Picturing her with that fucker Gavin makes my blood boil.

  “Dude, you look wrecked,” Devin says as I walk into the kitchen wiping my chest with my t-shirt.

  I chug a glass of water before I speak, sweat drips down my back, and my muscles are already aching from the circuit training in the campus gym. I would have stayed later, but the place was closing for the night.

  “Just trying to keep my head clear,” I say, tossing protein powder, almond milk, and a few bananas into a blender.

  “You don’t need to kill yourself in a gym to clear your head. You’re Austen Fucking Summers. You just need to get laid.”

  “Fuck off,” I say, the noise of the blender blasting away whatever else I might say on the subject. Namely, that I don’t want to get laid unless it’s Samantha riding my cock.

  Damn that woman was made for sex. Her body opens up like none I’ve ever been with. Drinking my chalky smoothie, I know it’s not just about her being a good fuck — it’s about her being the perfect woman.

  It’s not just her curves I want to hold, it’s her heart.

  “Whatever, bro,” Devin says. “We’re having a party here tonight. You’ll have your pick of pussy if you change your mind.”

  He starts to walk away, but before he does, I stop him. “You need to cool it with your fucking comments about women.”

  “Like you should talk.”

  “When you know better, do better,” I tell him as he walks away. It kills me to think that maybe I’ve been just as bad in the past.

  No more.

  It took falling for Sam to realize that it was time to man up.

  My phone buzzes and I pull it out of my pocket, reading the text.

  Tillie: Uh Sam is a mess. WTF did you do?

  Me: Me? She’s the one going out with her douchebag ex.

  Tillie: You’re such an idiot.

  Me: I’m the idiot? She wants to move to Seattle.

  Tillie: So?

  My fingers hover over my keypad. Before I type something I might regret, I slide my phone back in my pocket without replying.

  My body still pulses with energy. I want Sam in my arms, but she told me to go.

  Still, I want Sam to know I’m not the one-dimensional man she thinks I am — that it doesn’t have to be my way or the highway. I pull out my phone again and pull up our last text thread.

  Me: I’m sorry. Can we talk?

  I see the dot dot dot on the phone screen and know she’s typing, but then the dots disappear. She’s gone. I toss my phone on the counter, so pissed at myself and knowing that there is nothing I can say right now. I’d said actions are louder than words, and what were my fucking actions last night?

  As I’m washing out the blender, music begins to blast from the living room. I glance up at the clock, it’s already seven pm. The house is filling up, and I need to get away from the crowd that is forming. I head up the stairs into the bathroom for a shower.

  The hot water runs over my shoulders, and I know that Samantha needs action. Not just words.

  As I leave the bathroom, a towel wrapped around my waist, Cadence is standing directly in front of me. She lives next door in Sam’s sorority, and she’s best known for her drunk dialing. I’ve avoided her at all costs ever since last Spring break when we had a short fling. I realized she was a little too intense after she left me forty-three voicemails in a three-hour window.

  “Hey, Austy,” she slurs, red Solo cup in hand. “Look at you all nice and clean.”

  “Hey, can I get through?” I ask as gently as possible, not wanting to wake her wild side.

  “Oh, playing hard to get, are you?” she asks, running a hand over my bare chest. I pull her hand away, but she’s fast, and reaches for my towel. It drops to the floor, and I clench my jaw, not liking where this is headed.

  “Not cool, Cadence,” I say, reaching for my towel, but she’s closer now, and I can’t move without shoving her, which is the last thing I want to do.

  “I heard you were going out with Sam, but we both know she’s not your type, she’s way too...big.” She giggles. “Besides you like young pussy, don’t you? I remember how much you liked mine.”

  Growling in frustration, I look up, and see Samantha on the top of the stairs, staring at me, eyes written in shock and heartbreak.

  “Dammit,” I growl, grabbing the towel and pushing past Cadence, whether it’s gentlemanly, I don’t know, but I do know this: Sam is running down the steps away from me.

  And there’s no way in hell I’m losing that girl two nights in a row.

  9

  Samantha

  My eyes are so filled with tears that I can hardly see straight as I run out of the frat house.

  Austen with Cadence, naked.

  Her words about me ... so cruel.

  Reaffirming everything I already think. That I’m not enough for Austen.

  “Stop,” Austen shouts. “Just wait, it’s not what you think.”

  I whip around toward him. He’s in nothing but a towel, his hair dripping wet. It’s a cool October night and I know his toes must be freezing and I hate that I care about his toes. But I do. I care about his toes and his cheeks and his everything. That’s why I’m crying.

  Cadence had him practically pinned to a wall, naked, and he wasn’t pushing her way.

  “I came here for you,” I tell him, my cheeks streaked with tears. “I cancelled the dinner only to see ... only to see you with...” I cover my face with my hands, as Austen steps toward me.

  “It wasn’t what you think. She cornered me. Took my towel. I know it looks bad but—”

  “What’s going on?”

  I look up, seeing Gavin getting out of a sports car. He’s in a charcoal blazer, smooth jaw, and concern in his eyes. But I know the concern isn’t real, not after the way he treated me.

  “Who the fuck are you?” Austen asks.

  “Dr. Gavin Morrow. And you?”

  “I’m Samantha’s.”

  Gavin scoffs and my heart stills. “Samantha's what?”

  Austen’s hands form fists and I know this isn’t going to end well.

  Gavin looks over at me. “I got your message that you wanted to cancel dinner. I know you’d never be that foolish. So, I came over to talk some sense into that silly head of yours.”

  “You think you know what Sam needs?” Austen asks, stepping up to Gavin.

  “Yeah, a man, not a little boy like you.”

  “You need to get the fuck off this campus,” Austen tells Gavin as a crowd gathers. “You hear me you piece of shit?”

  “Is this guy serious?” Gavin asks, looking over at me, a twinkle in his eye as if he thinks he owns me.

  “Hell yeah, I’m fucking serious,” Austen says, just as Gavin pushes against his chest.

  Austen holds his towel in place with one hand, using his forearm to push Gavin away.

 
“Both of you, just go,” I shout, not wanting a scene, and most definitely not wanting my personal life blasted all over campus like this. “Please stop,” I say as Gavin shoves Austen. Austen not interested in losing, shoves him right back.

  “I said stop!”

  This time they step away from one another, turning to me.

  “I mean it,” I say. “Just go. Both of you.”

  Gavin laughs cruelly. “You can kiss that job goodbye, sweet cheeks.”

  I shake my head, wiping my eyes, knowing there is no way I could work alongside a man like Gavin. I should have never even considered it.

  “Sam, wait,” Austen says, as I turn and start up the steps of the sorority house. “Can I talk to you?”

  “No, Austen, I need space.”

  “I love you, Samantha. I do. Hear me out.”

  “Love me? Austen, this isn’t love. This is ...” But I don’t have any more words because my heart beats so wildly I can hardly breathe.

  I run from Austen into my house.

  The cold night air wraps around me as reality hits me right in the chest.

  I told Austen to go, but my heart is begging him to stay.

  I wake up exhausted. I cried myself to sleep after my phone died in my hands. I was scrolling through the photos I’d taken with Austen over the week, wallowing over what I let go. When the battery died, I shoved it under my pillow. Then I tossed and turned until the early morning hours. My heart aching over my absolute stupidity. I was so focused on the future I was willing to trade my forever.

  As I sit up in bed, I’m shocked to see it’s already eleven am. I never sleep in like this, and I panic, remembering what today is.

  It’s the day our Haunted House starts.

  I pull myself from bed and see that Tillie has left me a note on my dresser.

  Hey Sleepyhead,

  Your costume is in the closet. Don’t forget it!

  Xo, T

  I swallow, tears filling my eyes all over again. I’m grateful she didn’t mention the drama from last night. I’m sure she’s heard about it. I’m sure everyone has. Half the sorority was on the front lawn when two guys fought over me, when Austen Summers confessed his love, and when I ran away.

  Who’s the older and wiser one now?

  I groan, knowing I need to get over to the mansion to help set up the house ... dreading the fact that Austen will be there, getting the room ready. I’m sure he’s been there for hours, considering how responsible he has proven himself to be.

  I dress quickly in leggings and debate what top I should wear. Knowing it is crazy and delusional and exactly what my heart wants: I reach for Austen’s hoodie. I pull it to my nose, inhaling his dreamy scent. How could I have been so stupid last night?

  I want him.

  I need him.

  I love him.

  And I need to tell him that.

  After tossing the cougar costume in my car, I drive through a coffee stand for my version of liquid courage: a double tall white chocolate mocha. Pulling up to the mansion I see there are dozens of cars already here, and sorority sisters are hefting large boxes and props into the mansion.

  Stacy, our sorority president’s parents are letting us use the space for our fundraiser, and the exterior is already decorated. Pumpkins are everywhere, ghosts sway in the large oak trees, and cobwebs hang in the windows.

  Walking inside, I greet my housemates, then get the lay of the land and ask where my room will be. Stacy directs me to the second floor, last door on the left. When I get there, I pause outside.

  When I see Austen, I want my words to come out just right. He told me he loves me, and I want him to know he isn’t alone in those feelings. Not even a little.

  Taking a deep breath, I open the door ... only to see the room is empty.

  Frowning I step inside. Austen and I had talked this through plenty, his car already had the boxes of decorations that we had made with Henry. He was going to bring them over this morning.

  I close my eyes and my stomach drops.

  He isn’t coming.

  Of course, he isn’t.

  Why would he?

  Last night I rejected him in front of everyone we know. And now I lost him.

  My shoulders fall as a single tear rolls down my cheek.

  “Hey,” Tillie says, coming up behind me. Startled, I turn toward her, wiping my eyes.

  “Oh, hey,” I say, ready to crumble in her arms.

  “Why are you here?” she asks.

  “What do you mean? I’m here to help.”

  Tillie frowns. “No, like, aren’t you supposed to be at the hospital?”

  “What?”

  “Didn’t you get Austen’s text?”

  I swallow, as the last time I looked at my phone I was zooming in on photos of Austen. It wasn’t my finest moment. “I haven’t looked at my phone all morning.”

  “Girl, you’re as bad as he is. Look, he’s at the hospital. He wants you to meet him there.”

  “Really? Is Henry okay?”

  Tillie smiles. “I think so.”

  “Okay ... so he doesn’t hate me?”

  Tillie laughs. “Oh my gosh, Sam! My brother is head over heels for you. He has been all year.”

  Smoothing my hair, I nod. “Okay, then I guess I’ll see you later?”

  She smiles, giving me a quick hug. “Oh, wait. Did you bring the cougar costume?”

  I nod.

  “Wear the ears when you get to the hospital, okay?”

  “You’re not going to tell me anymore, are you?”

  Tillie shakes her head. “Nope. And Sam, don’t forget, you may be one of my best friends, but Austen is my brother.”

  “Don’t worry Tillie. I promise I won’t break his heart.”

  She grins at me, then says, “You better hurry.”

  I do. Wondering what Austen could be up to. But when I’m greeted at the nurses’ station and ushered down the hall by one of the older nurses towards the large family room, I’m shocked when I open the door and find it decorated with the props and decorations Austen, Henry and I made.

  Tears blur my eyes when I realize what Austen did.

  “Good, you got my texts.” Austen stands from where he was kneeling, taping fake vines to a side table. He rubs the back of his neck. “I didn’t think you’d show up.”

  “I can’t believe you did this.” He must have started decorating early this morning, because there isn’t one area of the room that doesn’t look like a jungle.

  “I know it wasn’t what we talked about. I hope you’re not upset.”

  “Upset?” I walk towards him. “How could I be upset? This is...” It’s Austen. It’s what he does. Thinks about others first. Tries to make the world a better place by small acts of kindness. “You brought the room to Henry because he couldn’t come to the haunted house.”

  He nods.

  “You’re incredible, you know that.”

  A small smile tugs at his mouth, and the worry that was in his eyes a second ago lessens. “Sam, I’m sorry—”

  “No.” I place a hand on his chest, over his heart, and look up at him. Gavin was wrong, he isn’t a boy, he’s more man than most guys my own age. “I need to tell you something.”

  “Okay.” He swallows hard.

  Emotions tighten my chest. “I pushed you away because I didn’t think...I guess I let my insecurities make the decision for me.”

  “You have nothing to be insecure about, Sam.”

  “I know that,” I say honestly. Because standing here with him, the way he looks at me, I do feel like the most beautiful woman in the world — or at least in Austen’s world. And that’s all that matters.

  Not what Gavin thinks.

  Not what other people think.

  It’s how I feel about myself that matters.

  “I’ve got curves,” I say shrugging, pressing my body against his. “And I’m starting to like them.”

  He groans, his arms wrapping around my waist. “I fucking
love your curves. But I also love your mind, Sam. And your heart. I love everything about you.”

  I smile, my heart beating wildly in my chest. “And I love you, Austen.”

  He goes still, gaze narrowing, and I’m pretty sure he stops breathing. “What did you say?”

  “I love you.” I reach up and place a palm on his jaw. “I don’t know what my future looks like, but I know I want you in it. I want—”

  I don’t finish my sentence because his mouth crashes down on mine.

  He kisses me hard, and I’m left breathless and shaking.

  It’s only when we hear a woman’s cough, followed by a child’s “Wow,” that we pull back, Austen’s smile matching my own as we turn to greet Henry and the nurse who’s brought him into the room.

  “Hey buddy,” Austen says, his fingers lacing with mine. “You ready for the big day?”

  Henry nods, his eyes like saucers as they roam around the room. “It looks like a real jungle.”

  “And I’ve got your costume over there in that bag,” Austen says.

  “What is it?”

  “Go look.” Austen looks just as excited as Henry as they walk towards the bag laid out on the table.

  Henry pulls out an orange and black-striped costume. “A tiger. This is so cool.”

  “Go try it on. We’re going to start the party in an hour.”

  “Party?” Henry asks.

  “Since you couldn’t make it to the haunted house this year, we brought it to you.” Austen crouches in front of him. “We’re going to have games and face painting and—”

  “Treats?” Henry asks, bouncing on the balls of his feet. I know he’s been feeling pretty run down the last few days, so it’s wonderful seeing the energy and hope in his eyes.

  “What’s a Halloween party without treats? Now go get ready, so Sam and I can finish setting up.”

  Henry’s arms wrap around Austen’s neck so tight, but when he lets go he runs to me and hugs my waist. “Thank you.”

  My heart swells, and I know I’ve fallen a little in love with this kid too. For everything he’s been through, the cancer, the foster care, he’s still got hope, and I know a lot of that has to do with Austen.

 

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