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Just Desserts (Perfect Dish Romances Book 2)

Page 3

by Tawdra Kandle


  A jerk? I paused, considering. “No, I told you everything.” Well, not everything. “He was trying to find out why you’re slutting it up, but he says it’s just because he doesn’t want you getting hurt. I asked him why it mattered to him, when he hadn’t done a very good job of not hurting you himself. He said he felt like it would be his fault if you were doing it just to get back at him.”

  Julia’s face pinked. “I’d have to say his ego was a little inflated if he wasn’t actually on to us. So he’s not interested in me because I’m unattainable again, he’s worried that my broken heart is making me a little too obtainable. To other guys, at least. Lovely.”

  I swallowed over a lump in my throat. In the three years I’d known her, I’d never kept a genuine secret from Julia. It felt wrong. I turned my back, sipping the coffee and burning my tongue.

  “Where are the donuts?”

  “Over on my desk. Seriously, Ave, are you okay? You look … weird.”

  “I’m fine.” I opened the box and scouted for a glazed. “I’m just a little tired still. I think I’ll crawl back under the covers and go to sleep for a while.” I found a napkin and took my donut back to bed.

  “All right, if you’re sure.”

  I nibbled at the pastry for a few minutes before I gave up trying to swallow it and balled it into the napkin. Julia was drying her hair, and I took advantage of her preoccupation and slid back down under the covers. Closing my eyes, I willed myself into a troubled sleep.

  I TOSSED AND turned for about forty-five minutes after Julia left. I vacillated between kicking myself for not telling her the truth and trying to convince myself that what had happened between Liam and me wasn’t that big a deal.

  Finally I sat up in bed and tossed off the blankets. I wasn’t accomplishing anything just laying here. I had paperwork to do for the RA meeting this week, and there was always more reading to do for classes. Plus there was laundry, and I needed to call my mother and do my weekly check-in before she assumed I was dead and sent my brothers out after me.

  Thinking of just that scenario, I reached for my phone, unplugging it from the charger. I had put it on silent early last night, since I had stayed in all evening. My freshman girls knew all too well how to find me in my room.

  I was surprised to see I had three missed calls and four text messages. Frowning, I turned the phone on and checked the calls first. All three were from an unfamiliar number, and there was one voice mail.

  The texts were from the same number, and when I read them, my mouth dropped open.

  Ava, call me back. I need to talk to you.

  This is Liam. And I want you to call me. Please.

  If you don’t call me back, I’m coming over there now.

  Okay, I won’t come over, but call me as soon as you can.

  I checked the times on the messages. The first two had been sent last night, and then two more had come this morning. I was almost afraid to listen to his voice mail. But I was a glutton for punishment, so I hit the button.

  Ava, it’s Liam. I just got back to my room. I want to talk to you about what happened. Call me back. Or have breakfast with me in the morning. We can go off-campus so no one recognizes us, but I want to see you again.

  No good-bye, no nothing. Just a click. I frowned down at my phone, staring at the number for a moment before I hit the delete key.

  In the clear, cold light of day, I could think rationally. Liam and I had both had been drinking. We were talking about things that were emotionally charged. That was it. There wasn’t any more to the kissing than that, which was probably why he wanted to talk to me so badly. Once he got back to his dorm, he’d realized the truth and wanted to make sure I didn’t tell anyone he’d been making out with someone like me.

  Or, if I bought into the theory that Liam was as diabolical as Jules thought, he had set out to hurt her again on purpose, and I’d fallen into the trap. Stupid, stupid wine.

  I swiped my phone live again and replied to his last text.

  I’m not calling you. Last night didn’t mean anything, and don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.

  I hit send and tossed my phone onto the bed. Enough of this. It was time to forget about those few crazy minutes and get on with my Saturday. I found a pair of sweats and an old t-shirt in the bottom dresser drawer and was just heading toward the bathroom when I heard a knock at the door.

  For one flash of time, I thought it might be Liam. He’d gotten my text but had come over anyway. I ran a hand over my hair, which was total bed-head, sticking up in every direction. Good grief, I was a mess.

  “Ava, are you up?” The voice on the other side of the door was decidedly feminine. One of my freshman, and dammit, there was the tremble of tears behind her words. This wasn’t going to be a simple hey-can-I-borrow-some-shoes visit. This was I-got-my-heart-broke counseling. I was so not in the mood.

  Taking a deep breath, I swung open the door and barely bit back a groan. Great. Rachel, Liam’s needy freshman, was leaning against the wall, her eyes watery and her nose red.

  “Hi, Rachel.” I tried to keep derision out of my voice. “What do you need? Do you have a cold?” Please have a cold.

  “No, I just wanted … to talk to you.” She sniffled and wiped at her face with a wadded-up tissue. “The other girls said you’re pretty cool about giving advice.”

  I stretched my mouth into a smile. “Okay, so what can I do for you?”

  She pointed over my shoulder into the room. “Can I come in? It’s kind of private.”

  Those words struck terror in the heart of any resident advisor. “Sure.” I stood back and let her in. “Sorry, I just got up, so things are kind of a mess.”

  She dropped onto Julia’s bed without invitation, and I winced, thinking of how much my roommate would not appreciate this.

  “I know it’s kind of early, and I’m sorry for bothering you like this.” She fumbled with the tissue, trying to find a dry spot. I grabbed my own box of Kleenex and offered it to her.

  “Thanks.” She blew her nose loudly and chucked the crumpled ball into the trash can. “So anyway, I just don’t know what to do. And I think my friends are tired of me talking about it to them. They told me I should come see you. I was thinking about it, and then last night …” Her voice trailed off, and her eyes welled again.

  I closed my eyes and gritted my teeth. Damn Liam Bailey and the girls he led on. Dealing with his weeping cast-offs seemed to be my destiny in life.

  “Last night?” I prompted her. I wasn’t sure what she had seen.

  She drew in a long, shaky breath. “I saw Liam Bailey going into your room. I know he used to date your roommate, and I …” Her face turned red. “I know what she must think of me. I mean, I didn’t know what was happening that night. I just started talking to him at the Alpha Delt house, and then I was, um …” Her eyes slid sideways. She was smart enough to know that she shouldn’t tell her RA that she’d been indulging in underage drinking.

  “Yeah, I can imagine.” I didn’t need the paperwork that came with that admission. “Listen, Rachel, you don’t need to tell me all this.”

  “But I do.” She leaned forward, her watery blue eyes wide and full of freshman earnestness. “Because I know what you must think of me. Like I’m some slut or something. But I’m not. Nothing happened with us. He took me with him to the party, and then after … all that bad stuff, his roommate walked me home and told me not to expect to hear from Liam ever again.”

  Well, that jived with what Liam had said to me the night before. I worked hard to keep my face impassive yet compassionate.

  “Okay, Rachel, so what can I do for you today? If you’re worried that I think less of you because of that night, please don’t. I know what goes down with freshman girls and upperclassmen. I’m sorry it happened to you, but you’re not the first, and you won’t be the last. Julia isn’t mad at you either.” Mentally I crossed my fingers that this would solve her problem and get her out of my room, even though I knew deep insi
de I was doomed to disappointment.

  “That’s really nice of you. Both of you. But that’s not why I’m here. See, even though his roommate told me Liam wouldn’t call me, I kept thinking he would. He might. I’m pretty sure he really liked me, and maybe he’s just waiting a little while until his old girlfriend—well, you know. Gets over him. But I heard she’s been with lots of other guys now, and I thought he was ready. I’ve tried to talk to him, but it’s always in a crowd, so I guess he doesn’t want to say anything until we’re alone. But then I saw him here last night. I didn’t know you guys were friends.”

  “What?” I was so lost in her convoluted train of thought that for a minute, I didn’t catch the last part. “Friends? No, not really. We know each other.”

  “Then maybe you could say something to him about me. Maybe even set something up for us. You know, like, some place private. You could tell him I still like him.”

  I bit back a snort. “Rachel, I’m going to be straight with you, because I get the feeling that brutal honesty is the only thing you’re going to understand. I’m sorry about it, but it’s better that you know the truth. Liam is not interested in you. At all. He was here last night to talk to Julia, and he ducked into our room when he saw you in the hallway because he didn’t want to run into you. Not in public, definitely not in private. I know that hurts. But it’s better that you hear me now, believe me, and get over him than you make a fool out of yourself, chasing a boy who’s embarrassed by you. Do you understand?”

  Her big eyes blinked, and for a minute, she didn’t move. And then her lip trembled a little and the tears spilled down her cheeks.

  “Noooo …” She was full-out wailing, and panic clutched me.

  “C’mon, don’t do that.” I patted her shoulder, glancing at the door. “This isn’t as bad as you think. Just move on, forget him—try to get to know some guys in your own class. And remember it’s not you, it’s him. Liam Bailey really is kind of a dick.”

  “But are you sure?” She was in the heaving-sobs portion of her meltdown. “I told all my friends we were going out. That he was just waiting for things to settle down. Oh my God, they’re going to think I’m such an idiot.”

  “If they’re really your friends, they’ll understand. But you should talk to them. Tell them what a jerk Liam is, and I promise you, they’ll have your back.” I stood up, hoping she’d get the hint that our therapy session was now over.

  “Okay.” Rachel rose, too, and grabbing more tissues, she moved toward the door. “But if something changes … if he tells you he’s interested … will you—”

  “He’s not going to. And nothing is going to change. Go have fun with some decent guys. And your friends. Friends don’t let you down.”

  She nodded again, and with one last face-mopping and shuddering breath, she was gone. Out the door, in the hallway, and no longer my problem. For now, at least.

  I dropped back onto my bed, closing my eyes as guilt rode me. Friends don’t let you down. Only I did. A flash memory of lying here on this bed, with Liam over me, burned my mind, and I groaned, burying my face in the pillow. I was a horrible person. I had betrayed my best friend with the guy who had made her life hell. And what was worse, I couldn’t say for certain that I wouldn’t do the same thing again if he were here.

  I rolled off the bed and reached for my Behavior Disorders notebook. I had an outline due for my term paper in that class this week, and it still needed a little work. And then there was a quiz coming up in Cognitive Psych. I wasn’t too worried about it, but still, no need to take chances. I flipped open my dinosaur of a laptop and found the files I needed. For a peaceful thirty minutes, nothing existed for me outside of the work. This was my safe place, where everything was controlled and in order. No confusing feelings, no guilt, regrets or yearning. Only facts and theories were my dependable friends.

  The door flew open, startling me out of the study zone. Julia stomped in, her cheeks red from the cold and her eyes stormy.

  “Hey …” I began, and then my stomach clenched. Liam had told her. She knew. Oh, my God. I swallowed and tried again to speak. “What’s wrong?”

  Jules ripped off her coat and tossed it in the general direction of the line of hooks behind the door. Not surprisingly, it missed, but she ignored it as she swung around to look at me.

  “Liam Bailey is what’s wrong. He’s very, very wrong.”

  Shit. I licked my lips and tried to think of the right thing to say. Anything that would explain why I had made out with her ex-boyfriend last night. But maybe she didn’t know. I decided to hedge first.

  “So I take it he was there? At the meet?”

  “Yes.” Julia sat on the edge of her bed, stretching her legs out in front of her until her shoe almost hit one of my piles of papers. I moved it back out of the way. “I spent over an hour learning more about wrestling than I ever wanted to know. And then when I finally escaped, made it outside, he was there. Waiting for me. Turns out he’s come up with a really great idea. A selfless plan designed to help me out. He’s willing to sleep with me, just out of the goodness of his heart. Isn’t that big of him?”

  My heart pounded, and all at once even that bite of doughnut I’d eaten felt like a bad decision. “He what?”

  “Yep, you heard me right. Sex without any of the annoying strings attached. That’s what he’s offering me.” She clutched the sheet in both fists and pulled up. “I just want to scream. I haven’t been this mad since right after his birthday party.”

  My mind was whirling. He’d used me. Here I was mooning around about what Liam had said last night, about his texts and calls, and it had all been part of his nasty little game. I was stupid.

  I laced my hands together, just to keep from falling apart. “I don’t blame you. That’s just horrible.”

  Jules dropped onto her back, staring up at the ceiling. “You know, the sad part is that I had started to second-guess everything. I was planning to back off the whole revenge plan. Not now. Now, I’m upping the ante.”

  Dread tensed my shoulders. “What you going to do?”

  “No more messing around with Giff’s plans. I’m going to tell him what his precious best friend said to me. And then I’m going to write out the whole sordid story, from the time he asked me out, all about the birthday party and then about today’s mess. And I’m naming names, and it’s going up on the blog.”

  It felt wrong. As a matter of fact, this whole deal, getting even with Liam, suddenly looked petty and immature, like a frat house the morning after a wild party. Julia and her project partner had started a blog to share the stories of girls—and guys—who’d been done wrong by their exes. It had turned into a positive exercise, but using it to slam Liam would change all of that.

  “Jules, are you sure? Is that going to solve anything? And what about Jesse?”

  She rolled over to face me, and I saw regret in her expression. “I know. I thought about him right away. But, God, Ave, Liam deserves some kind of payback for everything he’s done to me. This is totally separate from Jesse and me.”

  She was delusional, I thought. Anger and hurt were blurring her vision. “Can you keep it that way? Don’t you think he’s going to find out, and be pissed? I know you’ve only had one date, but it seems like there’s potential for a lot more. You don’t want to screw that up.”

  Julia blew her hair out of her face, frowning. “I’ll burn that bridge when I get to it.”

  I BURIED MYSELF in books, papers and studying for the rest of the weekend. Julia didn’t argue when I suggested take-out for dinner Saturday night; I didn’t want to take a chance on running into Liam anywhere on campus. We had a movie marathon while we both did homework, and my favorite chick flicks took my mind off all the distractions.

  I sent Jules on a candy run before we started up The Ugly Truth. My stomach had finally settled, thanks to the dependability of reading assignments and lecture notes, and I was craving peanut butter cups. She’d only been gone about ten minutes when my
phone buzzed. I reached for it without looking, thinking she needed candy buying guidance.

  But no. It was a text message from Liam, and all that peace I’d been skirting around disappeared.

  Ava, can you talk?

  I sat looking at the words for a minute and then hit delete. I switched the ringer to vibrate and turned the phone to face the floor so I couldn’t see the screen. I had just picked up my pen again when I heard the vibration. Damn technology.

  Determined to ignore it, I focused on the notes in front of me for a full three minutes. And then I flipped the phone over.

  I need to see you. I’ll meet you somewhere. Or I can come over there.

  My eyes widened, and my fingers flew across the keyboard.

  No! Don’t come over. I don’t want to see you. Or talk to you.

  He must have been waiting for me to reply, because only seconds after I hit send, another message popped up.

  Will you have dinner with me tomorrow night?

  I gritted my teeth. I didn’t know how much clearer I could be.

  No. And stop texting me.

  I held the phone for a few minutes, waiting, but there were no more messages. I breathed a deep sigh—I told myself it was of relief, but I’d be lying if I didn’t admit to a pang of disappointment—and went back to my notebook.

  The phone vibrated again, this time longer, moving it across the little area rug I kept next to my bed. Not a text this time; now he was calling me.

  I kept my eyes glued to the words on the paper, even though they meant nothing to me at the moment. Long minutes after the buzzing stopped, there was one more gasp of an alert. Voice mail, of course.

  Hitting delete without listening would have been the smart choice, but clearly I was losing my mind. I hit play and watched the door the whole time, anticipating Julia coming back with my candy. As soon as I heard his voice, I could tell he was drunk. There was a music and laughter in the background, and his words slurred.

 

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