by Tijan
“Yeah.” His head bobbed up and down. “Uh, let me know if you ever change your mind.”
People didn’t turn chances like that down. That much was obvious. But I had to.
Women used to come to our house to see my father, and I was used to them fawning over me because they thought it would get them closer to him. My dad had a great job. We had money, and also an inheritance from my mother, which included money she’d received from her parents when they passed away five years ago. These more recent women could tell there was money somewhere, and my dad was handsome.
I resigned myself to the fact that he was going to date, but I didn’t like it. I didn’t have to like it, and I certainly didn’t want it having an impact on my academic life.
My studies were mine alone. No dad. No wife wannabes. I wanted my dad’s identity and mine to be separate. That meant keeping my head down, trying to keep quiet about my last name, and doing what I knew how to do: study my ass off and make my mom proud.
Thinking about living my own life reminded me of Jason, and I pulled out my phone to send him a text: You still mad at me?
I’m not replying to you.
You just did.
To tell you that I’m not replying to you.
So you’re mad?
I waited a beat. No text came. But just as I slid my phone back into my bag, I heard it buzz again. I pulled it back out to see that Jason had replied, Yes.
I dropped it back in my bag with no reply. There was no point. When Jason got mad, I had to let him stew. He’d get over it, eventually. I was on my way to the food court for lunch before my next class when another text came. Jason again: I won’t be mad by the weekend. We should hang out.
I replied with a smiley face, then really put my phone away.
The food court was set up like the ones at a mall. Fast-food booths lined the outside walls, and tables, chairs, and couches covered the middle. A large fountain filled the area next to the main entrance, and a river wound from it down through the center of the eating area. Potted trees and foliage added to the atmosphere. Doors to the side of the fountain led into the actual cafeteria for students with a meal plan. They just needed their ID card to get inside. I had a meal plan, but I still grabbed an empty table in the far corner of the food court, right next the windows. It was out of the way, and I could see all the students outside.
It was perfect.
Plopping down with my salad, an apple, and a water, I pulled out my laptop. I had an hour and a half before my next class. I’d just started checking my email when I heard a familiar voice. Claire came in through a side door near me. She was with a bunch of others, all of whom Jason would’ve rolled his eyes at.
Some of the guys wore pastel polo shirts over slim khaki shorts, their hair gelled and combed to the side. Other guys had their hair sticking up in a mess, but it was no doubt meticulously put together. Claire and a few of the other girls wore dresses, while two others wore jeans and T-shirts. Those two trailed behind, and I wondered if they were actually part of the group.
When they all found a table, those two girls sat at the end. Claire landed smack in the middle, right next to the guy who looked like the leader. He wasn’t the tallest, but he had the most charisma and a wide smile. Everyone seemed to be talking to him, or waiting for whatever he had to say before continuing their conversation.
I could’ve called out or raised a hand, and she would’ve come over. Actually, seeing how snug she looked next to that guy, she probably would’ve called me over to join them. She sat with her back to me, so I knew she wasn’t going to see me. I kept quiet. Sometimes being alone was too lonely, and sometimes—like now—it was a welcome break.
Then I heard, “It’s my mindfucking partner in crime.”
REGULAR NICE GUY
LOGAN
Taylor wanted to be alone. That was obvious.
I saw her from outside before I came in. She was watching her friend, her cute face scrunched up. I could’ve done a play-by-play of her thoughts: Should I call out to her? Do I want to? Then I’ll have to deal with the douchebag pricks with her.
Then her face cleared. She stopped nibbling on her bottom lip and shifted in her seat, turning away from the table with her friend. Yep. Taylor made the right decision.
And I made my grand entrance, dropping into the seat across from her. “It’s my mindfucking partner in crime.”
Her entire body went rigid, her apple frozen inches from her mouth.
I smirked. “Any time you spend with those sphincters is wasted time. Good call ignoring your friend.”
Her cheeks flooded with color, and she straightened in her seat. “I’m not ignoring—” she started. She took a breath and looked around. “I didn’t even see her over there.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Don’t lie.” I waved at her face. “You turn purple when you try to bullshit. It’s a bad look for you.”
“I’m not purple.” Her cheeks went from red to a lavender color.
“You are. It’s kinda cute, if you want a guy that’s into the whole Barney look, but I’d assume those guys aren’t going to be looking your way unless you’re nine and like black, nondescript vans.”
“What?”
“Okay. I’m stereotyping.” I grabbed her water. “But I don’t care.”
“That’s my water.”
I opened it and took a drink. “It’s mine now.” I gestured to the coffee booth. “I have to get a latte for Sam.” I lifted her bottle. “I’ll grab you one of these. You want a coffee or something else, too?”
“No.”
I stood, frowning down at her. “I’m not that big of an asshole, I swear,” I told her, waving her water in the air as I walked away. “I’ll buy you another one. I just need a little something while I wait in line. My throat’s parched.”
She eyed me with her usual look, a mix of wariness, curiosity, slight amusement, and something else. I hoped it was sexual attraction, but this girl was different than the others.
“Why’d you turn Jason down for the gambling thing?” Taylor asked when I returned to the table.
I sat down and slid a coffee over to her, along with her new water. I flashed her a grin. “See? I keep my word.”
She scowled. “Answer me about Jason.”
I snorted. “Impatient much?” I pointed to the water bottle. “I’d like you to note that I follow through on my word.”
She looked down at the water and coffee. “What is that, and why are you making a big deal about it?”
I ignored one of her questions. “That’s the stuff you drink, right? Or did I get the wrong kind? You had it in class, though I think you forgot it when we left.”
“You got me coffee?”
“I told you I would.”
“You didn’t have to do that.” She stared down at it, her hands around the cup.
I heard the wonderment in her voice and I frowned. “It’s nothing. It’s coffee.” I placed another cup on the table. “I have to take this to Sam anyway.”
Her eyes lingered on Sam’s cup before she murmured, “Oh, yeah.” Then she shook her head and refocused on me. “Jason. Why did you turn him down? He’s blaming me for it.”
“He is?” The corner of my mouth lifted. I hadn’t expected that. “Delray’s some little shit, isn’t he? I kinda like him.”
The corners of her mouth were twitching, like she couldn’t decide to laugh or glare. “You asked for his competitor’s number?”
I remembered how Delray had sputtered over the phone. “Oh, yeah. Good times, but no worries. You’re not to blame. I was never going to use him. I just wanted to make him jump through some hoops—revenge for turning me down last year.”
“The whole thing was a lie?”
I nodded. “You weren’t around last year, but your friend worked for a major piece of shit. When I saw him at the party last weekend, I was surprised. I didn’t think he had the balls to come around one of my friend’s parties, he or those other assholes. It was my w
ay of sticking it to Sebastian, just a little bit, even though the guy is gone.”
She still looked confused. I’d mentioned Sebastian before, and I was sure Delray had filled her in, but it was hard to explain the magnitude of the guy’s asshole. He was a dark hole into the abyss.
I shrugged, standing back up. “But don’t worry. Next time I see your friend, I’ll let him know it wasn’t because of you. I was being an asshole all on my own.”
She looked out the window, frowning slightly. “Thank you for the coffee.”
I studied her for a second and gave her one last parting grin. “See you in class tomorrow. Don’t let some other douche sit next to you.”
I heard her say “What?” as I headed out, but I didn’t turn around.
I liked Taylor Bruce. I thought again about how she’d been ready to defend Sam. If another girl did that, I’d figure she had an angle—she wanted to use Sam to get to Mason, or even me, or use Sam herself for recognition and power on campus. My brother was a sports god, so his girlfriend was known, too. We all were. Just me sitting at Taylor’s table had drawn attention. I don’t think she was aware of it, but she would’ve realized it eventually and gotten uncomfortable.
Something happened that made Taylor avoid the limelight. I’d grown up in the spotlight around other people who wanted the spotlight too. Seeing someone like Taylor Bruce was refreshing. Hell, she was refreshing.
I wanted to bang her, but I wanted to bang a lot of girls. If the opportunity arose—I paused before pushing open the second door and stepping outside—, but there was something else in Taylor, something I didn’t sense from other girls. I couldn’t put my finger on what it was, but heading toward the communication building, I didn’t think about it again. Sam waited for me outside and her eyes lit up when she saw the coffee. “Give me. Give me. Give me.” After taking a sip, she closed her eyes with a contented smile. “Thank you, Logan.”
I threw my arm around her shoulders. “See, that’s how I’m supposed to be thanked for doing something nice. Getting coffee for someone—that’s a nice thing to do.”
“What?”
“Nothing.” I squeezed her against me for a second. “Let’s go to class.”
See? I could be a nice guy. Sometimes.
TAYLOR
“You’re friends with Logan Kade now?”
I’d been lost, still surprised by his generosity, when Claire’s voice distracted me.
“Huh?” I looked up to find her standing in front of my table. Her bag hung from her hands, which were cupped together in front of her. Her eyes narrowed slightly, and she glanced back over her shoulder. I followed her gaze. Her entire table watched us with mixed expressions. The girls’ eyes were big. One had a dreamy smile on her face, and most of the guys looked mystified. Their leader seemed stoic, his face unreadable, but I caught a flash of hardness in his eyes before it shifted. When he caught me studying him, a warm smile transformed his features. His eyes grew friendly and welcoming. It was such an abrupt change that I didn’t know how to process it. Instead, I shifted back to Claire.
She sat across from me, grabbing a water from her bag and placing it on the table. “So, are you?”
“What?”
“Friends with Logan Kade now?” She turned to look through the window, where Logan had gone.
As we watched, he handed the other coffee to that girl, the one from the party. Her eyes lit up, and she inhaled it, a blissful expression on her face. She said something, and he threw his arm over her shoulders as they went into the building. Whether she was his girlfriend or not, his utter devotion was evident.
My stomach churned slightly. I wanted that. But as soon as I had the thought I stopped myself. It wasn’t the devotion I wanted from Logan Kade. I wasn’t jealous about that; it was the loyalty. Eric hadn’t been loyal. He’d left me, literally. And my dad… No. I wasn’t thinking about my crap right now.
I forced a smile. “Has Jason texted you today?”
“You’re not going to talk about Logan Kade?”
I shrugged, glancing to the side. “I have no idea. I think he just likes to mess with me or something.”
“Oh.” Her eyebrows pulled together. “That’s all?”
I focused on her again. “I didn’t think you liked him.” I glanced over at her table. The guy she’d been sitting with was still watching. “What’s his story?”
She cast another look over her shoulder. “That’s Ben, and before you ask, I have no clue what’s going on with him.”
“But you want something to go on with him?”
Her head did another little shake. “I have no clue, like I said, and I’m over thinking about it. He pays all this attention—sits next to me, calls me, wants to study together, go get food together. But then when we get around other people? Nothing. I have such a hard time reading him. I don’t know what he wants, or if he even wants anything.” She began picking at the edge of the table. “You were here before, right?” She tilted her head and looked at me. “That’s what Malia said. She saw you first. Well…” She rolled her eyes. “She saw Logan first, but she said the girl was already there when we got our table.” She paused, her eyes flicking down to the table and back to me. “Why didn’t you say anything? You could’ve sat with us.”
I inclined my head toward her. “I thought about saying something, but you were with your friends. You know me. I’ve not been the most social creature lately.”
Her eyes grew sad.
“I didn’t want to bring you down,” I murmured. “Me and lots of people don’t mix well.”
Her eyes lowered, and she began picking at the table again. “I could’ve come over to sit with you. You didn’t have to sit here alone.”
I gestured to the empty seat next to her. “I wasn’t alone, remember?” Logan had occupied that seat. “Unfortunately.”
Her lips pinched inwards, giving her a thoughtful and almost disgusted look at the same time. She moved to the edge of her seat, her hand now weaving figure eights on the table. “Yeah. That’s…weird, huh?”
I sat back.
“Logan Kade’s kinda taken a liking to you or something.” She jerked up a shoulder. “I mean, that’s what it looks like to me…” Her voice trailed off, like she wanted to say something else.
I sat still as the realization hit me. Claire was jealous, and her friends were, too—the girls anyway. I scanned the food court. There were more than a handful of girls watching us, watching me. This wasn’t a normal reaction. I didn’t know what it was, but I knew it wasn’t normal. If Eric had come to Cain University and become popular, I wouldn’t have gotten this reaction from people. Others might’ve noticed me, but I couldn’t imagine this envious, suspicious, and somewhat guarded scrutiny. It’s like they were trying to decide if I was a threat or not.
Shit. I let out an abrupt laugh. “Does this guy have semen made of gold or something?”
“What?”
“Nothing.” I started gathering my stuff. Staying here meant another girl might come over with questions. I didn’t want to chat. So I stood, hoisting my bag onto my back. “I have to go to class.”
YOU’RE BAD
TAYLOR
The rest of the week passed without drama. Thankfully. Classes ran on a Tuesday/Thursday or a Monday/Wednesday/Friday schedule, so I had to see Logan one more time. I expected debauchery, lecherous jokes, or a crapload of innuendos, but when he dropped into his seat Friday morning, I got none of that.
I tried to tell myself the feeling of being let down had nothing to do with him, but it did. I was disappointed. In just a few days, I’d grown accustomed to Logan’s…well, to Logan and how he was. There wasn’t a word to describe him perfectly, so I went with Loganisms to explain encounters with him. And I didn’t get any of them that morning, and I missed them. Somehow, Logan made me forget the things I needed to forget.
When class was over and he offered me a nice “see you later” as
