It’s finals week, so I’m putting in overtime. We all are. The schedule is so loaded, I worry about when we, the writing center employees, will get to write our own papers.
When not in class, from here on out, we’ll be in the writing center. Lunches. Dinners. None of us will get to take a break, tutoring with our mouths full. Staying until close. Ben’s shift starts in an hour.
My boss, Marlon, waves me down after I sign in. He’s short and nosey, but generally decent to work for. “Collin. Hey, Collin.”
I stop and turn around. “What can I do for you?”
“Glad you asked.” He walks over to me rubbing his hands together, snarky smile on his face, like he’s got something big in store for me.
I spoke too soon, today I can tell he won’t be decent to work for. It never bodes well for me when he begins a conversation that way.
“Got a new guy for you to show around. If he can handle cram week, he’ll be able to jump right in start of next term.”
Of course my boss would pick today, start of the rush, to approach me about training a newbie.
“It’s not a good time. We’re too busy.”
“He’s just going to shadow you, ask questions when he needs to. It’ll be fine.”
“Crap, fine. Where is he?”
Marlon turns. “Hey Kip, come on over here.” He waves over, what the what?
I rub my eyes to make sure I actually see what I’m seeing.
It’s the guy. The coffeehouse guy. Play it cool, Col. Play it cool.
“Kip, Collin. You’ll be shadowing him for the week.”
He doesn’t say hi, just stands there. And I realize I can’t say anything either.
What Ben said was true, the face isn’t my usual go-to attribute on a guy, but his is fucking angelic. Like, as I look at him, I swear, there’s a white light backlighting him. An almost blinding aura.
That angelic.
Finally I get my shit together and clear my throat.
“I’m Collin.” I hold my hand out.
When our hands meet, my feet falter. That shock, that zing of real, true electric attraction you feel when you first meet a person you know is going to either become really important to you or royally fuck up your world.
I feel it.
I feel it, and I haven’t felt it since… not in a really long time.
“Kip, obviously,” he says back. His voice is as deep and rich as a dark roast coffee. I love coffee.
He doesn’t break his stare. God, he’s beautiful. Those eyes. Not brown. Flecks of green and yellow. Hazel? Mesmerizing. Set off by his lush, shiny hair, I swear the color of deep mahogany, and long, thick lashes, his olive skin appears even more olive. How did I not take him in at the coffee house? All that’s him, yet he’s indescribably more.
“Yeah, well.” Marlon interrupts. “I’ll leave you to it.” He starts to walk away then turns back for a moment. “Um, no sex in the break room, okay?”
Kip coughs out what sounds like an uncomfortable laugh, while I choke on my own saliva.
“I don’t even know what to say.” I hope to Christ I’m not turning pink, but my cheeks and forehead are burning. “I’ve never…” Kip’s got to think I’m some sort of pervert. My pits are sweating. I can’t remember if I remembered to put on deodorant this morning. I want to sniff, but I don’t want him to see me sniff. “Come on.”
He follows closely behind me. Closer than I’m used to people walking. His heat is there, warming my back.
We’re in for a long shift.
“My sister told me to try that as an icebreaker. The dollar. Earlier.”
“You know it wasn’t a dollar?”
“Yeah, yeah. I found out when I went to pay for my coffee. And couldn’t.”
I’m not trying to embarrass him, but that shit is funny. So I laugh.
And he laughs. Suddenly the sexual tension lifts.
We might be able to work.
Chapter 3
Kip
Marlon was right. The week has gone too fast and not fast enough.
Every time I walk back to the break room, hell, even passing by the break room, I want to pull Collin in there with me and show him what I have to offer.
We’ve spent so many hours together. Talking. Just getting to know one another.
Collin plans to backpack across Europe after graduation. Staying in hostels where he can, camping under the stars where he can’t. He keeps a journal, has his whole life. He wants to document all the people he meets in his travels to help expand his writing. He regards everyone he meets as a character study.
Finding out, even those very first benign details about him, made me want to know more. Not just more, everything.
“So you come from a big family, then?” He asks. We sit next to each other, waiting on the next tutoring student. He’s late. Sucks for him, he only gets the hour he signed up for. Good for me and Collin.
“Yeah, big. Catholic. Seven kids total. Three brothers, three sisters and me. Although, I’m not religious.” I shrug. “You?”
“One brother. Five years younger.”
“You guys close?”
His laugh comes off sarcastic. There’s a definite story there. He doesn’t make me wait long to lay at least some of it on me.
“I haven’t spoken to my brother in years. Not since I was excommunicated from the family. Excommunicated, there’s a Catholic word for you. Shunned if you’re Amish.”
Wow. I push back in my seat putting a little more space between us, at the same time I scratch at the back of my neck. “That sucks, man.” What else is there to say?
“So I take by your stunned response, you’re close with yours?” Collin wants to know.
“Absolutely. I’m the youngest, my twin sister Kay’s a couple minutes older. We’re big, loud. Everyone is up in everyone else’s business. And except for Kay, she goes to State, not a one of them lives outside a fifty block radius.”
His turn. “Wow.”
Wow is right.
“So why’d you leave?” There’s such a sincerity in the way he asks, propping his chin on his fist, elbow to the table. Watching me intently, as if my next words are the most important words in the world.
I pick up a pen from the table and grip it tightly just so I have something to do with my hands. “Wanted different. I guess I needed a change.”
“But switching colleges midway through?”
“You ask my family, they’ll blame Jake, my ex. He decided he wanted less monogamy and more play the field. I didn’t agree, but couldn’t force him to stay. So we broke up.”
Collin remains quiet.
So I fill the void. “I tried to trap him with a baby.” I joke. “But I couldn’t afford the surrogate.”
His lip twitches. Finally a reaction.
Shaking his head, he totally ignores my attempt at witticism. “You hungry?”
“Yeah, I could eat.”
As I run to grab us dinner from the Chinese takeout place down the street, I pass our tutoring student on the way in. “Collin’s waiting for you.”
He nods his thanks. The guy won’t be there when I get back. He only has a half hour left in his session.
A few more details I’ve learned this week. Collin loves orange chicken. Orange chicken is my favorite. He uses chopsticks. Not a fork like a lot of these yahoos. And he loves ice water but he’s addicted to coffee. Every or any type you want to bring him. He has a group of friends that have become his family since clearly, the one he was born into are all a bunch of assholes. I can’t imagine being so estranged from mine, but again, clearly, we don’t all have the same experiences.
Today is our last day, our last tutoring session of the semester and I’m so afraid of not seeing him again until the new semester starts. What if our schedules never overlap? I haven’t been as happy since transferring here.
He’s waiting for our last girl to arrive when I come in with the food. His smile, seductive yet innocent at the same time. Like he’s genuinely happy t
o see me. Bright, white, straight teeth, beyond anything I’ve ever seen in real life, not on a movie star.
If I don’t talk to him now, really talk, I’ll lose my nerve. His smile gives me the courage. Setting the food down, I hand him off a container of orange chicken, a napkin and chopsticks as he grabs up the bottle of water he’d asked for from the plastic bag. His hand brushes mine and I take the opportunity to hook my pinky finger around his. Man, he looks surprised (not an encouraging sign). But doesn’t pull away either (though, that’s one).
“Collin, I’d like to take you out.”
His hand holding the water bottle stops midair from where he was about to take a drink while he stares. Maybe I misjudged the situation. I thought for sure, for sure he’s been feeling me as much as I’ve been feeling him.
I can’t help but to glance down to where our pinkies remain hooked, which of course, makes him look too. Wincing, I let go of his. Then, because I don’t know what else to do with my hands and the pen I’d used earlier is gone, I snatch up my napkin, tearing it into confetti. Good job, Kip. Revert back to your sixth grade self. Collin will find that sexy.
Finally time to man up, I drop the rest of the napkin and force myself to look him in the eyes. “Okay. Well, I apologize then.”
“No. Don’t. It’s just—I just didn’t expect you to ask.”
“If you tell me you’re flattered I’ll punch you square in the jaw. Fair warning.”
“Ha.” He barks a laugh. “No, I wasn’t going to say that. It’s, I have a rule. I don’t hookup during the holiday.”
“I wasn’t asking for a hookup, Collin. I want to take you out. On a date. Dinner. A movie. Maybe a hockey game.”
“No hockey.”
“Fine, no hockey. But I’d like to take you out.”
“Listen, Kip. You’ve been fun to talk to. I’ve really enjoyed your company. Made the time pass quickly. But I don’t date. I hook up. It’s—it’s just better that way.”
Hookups are never better. Doesn’t he realize that? No matter how good it feels at the time, it never lasts. I’ve done it both ways, the exclusive relationship and a few booty calls. With booty calls, I’ve found the feeling to be fleeting and you lose a little more of yourself each time. My time after Jake taught me that.
“Let me see your phone.” Whatever gives me the courage to make such a monumental move on a man who only minutes ago shot me down, I have no clue where it comes from. But Collin grabs his phone from where it sits on the table next to him, handing it off to me.
I type my number into his contacts then hand it back. “Here.” And I hook my thumbs through my belt loops, hoping to exude a confidence I don’t actually have. “In case you change your mind.”
I’m so thankful when Becky or Becca or whatever her name is shows up. She puts an end to the awkwardness.
Marlon calls me away before the end of the session. We cement a schedule for the start of the winter semester. First week I’m on duty. Then he takes off to talk to another tutor, but I can’t go back over to Collin now. No one likes to hear they feel something for someone and have it not be reciprocated.
As I slide my arms through to put my coat on, I pull a little box from my front pocket and hold it in my hand. A prickle sweeps up the back of my neck while my face heats incredibly hot looking at the damn thing. It’s nothing big. We’ve been spending so much time together I got him a little gift. He was supposed to get it after he said yes to our date.
So stupid.
Not really stupid.
God, being rejected really sucks.
I’ve been miserable knowing going home for Christmas is out of the budget. Then Collin happened, and the world around me got exponentially better. And now?
Well whatever. I bought the damn thing, so he’s getting it. Slipping the package into the front pocket of his jacket which hangs on a hook in the break room, I turn and force myself to leave without looking back. He has my number. If he wants to call, he’ll call.
Between the writing lab and my car, the freezing rain which started as a light, freezing drizzle this morning has picked up considerably to a freezing downpour, cold soaking everything in the vicinity. Once the temperature drops tonight all this water is going to turn to a thick coating of ice. The commute tomorrow morning should be fun. At least I was smart enough to bring an umbrella.
Inside my car, the heater takes a few minutes to warm up enough to thaw me out and melt the little ice crystals which have started to collect in the corners of the windshield and along the edge of the wipers.
I’ll be glad to get home and veg.
As I drive, my phone rings. For a brief second the ringing has me hopeful it’s Collin. It’s Jake. Jake?
“Hey,” I answer. “What’s up?”
“How you doing?”
“Busy. Today was the last day of the semester, so things should calm down.”
“I saw your sister. Called me a jackass and said you aren’t coming home for Christmas.”
“She means well. And no, I can’t. Won’t be back ‘til summer.”
“I’m sorry, Kip. I’m so sorry. I handled things poorly. We were young, first time away from home. You deserved better.”
“Jake, it happened. Not going to say you didn’t break my heart, because you know you did. But what’s done is done. You know we—” I don’t get to finish because he cuts me off.
“I’m getting married.”
“What?”
“Kip, Darren asked me to marry him, and I said yes. I just—I guess I felt like you deserved to hear it from me first. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. We had our time. It’s over. You obviously love him.”
“More than anything. We went through some really serious shit, and I realized I’d rather spend every day for the rest of my life dealing with his shit than a day without it if it meant I couldn’t have him.”
“I get it. Congratulations. I, uh, hope you have a happy life.”
“Thank you. Means a lot to me.”
“So I’m going now.”
“Okay. Wait, Kip. You’ll find your Darren. He’s out there for you.”
“Bye Jake.” I hang up on him. The air in my lungs feels heavy and I feel twenty years older. Not because I’m still pining for the guy, I’m not. But it’s really weird to hear someone else is living your life. Or more, the life you thought you were going to have for the longest time.
Maybe being the time of year, being stuck here away from my family, all alone for the holidays but damn I miss my sister so badly. Then to have Collin shoot me down when I really thought we’d made a connection. And let’s top it off with my first love is getting married. Icing on my sucking Christmas cake.
At least I made it back to the apartment.
As I get out of my car some douche in a black Silverado speeds past me, oversized rednecked tires splashing me with sleet, icy wet sleet from head to toe.
“Fuuuk!”
Chapter 4
Collin
Beep… beep… beep
Drip. Drip. Drip.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
The noises hit so loud and obtrusive as if resonating from the inside of my skull, along with the pain there so thick I’m nauseous and the room feels muffled. A heavy pain med headache. Has to be. Light sensitivity making it hard to keep my eyes open more than slits. I’ve felt this before, two years ago after my appendix ruptured.
There’s an IV pic line running from my wrist to a bag hanging on a metal pole.
Morphine.
Was right, heavy pain meds.
After closing my eyes for another minute or so, I open them, trying to swallow back the wave of nausea about ready to make me its bitch and reach for my call button to the nurses’ station. That’s when I feel them. Eyes on me. Not in a good way, either.
When the owner of those eyes makes her presence known, my eyes shift to her mouth, but there’s no way I can look her in the eyes. Especially when her opening remark is, “Collin, what have
you done?”
What have I done? Not exactly the words one expects to hear from his own mother while lying in a hospital bed.
What have I done? You mean besides kissing a boy behind the dumpster at McDonalds? Don’t know. The memories get rather hazy then. Though, I do remember the pain.
She sits, back perfectly erect, sitting like the lady she is in her hospital chair. Fingers clasping a death-like grip onto the plastic ivory-looking handles of her nineteen fifties antique purse.
“Mrs. Hand’s son Jacob was heard calling you a—well it doesn’t matter what he called you. I tried to set her straight, tell her it’s just not true. But now... Collin, what do you have to say for yourself?”
It hurts to laugh, yet I can’t rein the somewhat angry burst of air back in before I lob, “At least you can attempt to set one of us straight,” out at her.
She has style, have to give her that. She’s known far and wide for her ability to accessorize anything and make it fit into her lifestyle.
Anything but me.
A noise startles me out of the little blast from the past. Middle of the freaking night. Can’t a man get some sleep? No nightmares. No noises. Just some god damned sleep would be great. As I wipe a hand down my tired face I look up to see Bradley. Former hookup, Thanksgiving hookup, Bradley stands in front of me, the fly of his jeans undone, he’s bare chested. I’m not sure how he got into my apartment in the first place. He’s handsome but I don’t hook up during the holiday. He knows, he was my last. He knows.
“How’d you get in here?”
“Your roommate. Told him I left my phone. That I’d been freaking out since Thanksgiving because I’d lost it and finally just remembered it’s here.”
“Well, you’re elaborate if nothing else. Where is he, then?”
“He wouldn’t let me in otherwise. You don’t do hookups until after Christmas. And he went to lay back down. Said to lock up, he wasn’t feeling well.”
“So apply it to everything, why are you still here?”
He walks over closer to me trying his hand at seductive. “I missed how you feel. It was so good last time we were together.”
Underside of Courage (Beautifully Disturbed Series Book 2) Page 2
