Questions fill her dark eyes. They’re ones I don’t necessarily want to answer. Brayden doesn’t need to know that Ethan and I broke up about a month ago. It’s just easier if he assumes my ex-boyfriend is still in the picture. The guy hits on me all the time; I can’t imagine how much more intense his attention would become if he realized I was single. It’s not something I’m interested in discovering firsthand.
“So,” he says, cutting into my thoughts and drawing my attention reluctantly back to him, “what time are we hooking up at the library tonight?”
A change of topic is exactly what’s needed.
Even if it’s this one.
“We are not hooking up,” I growl. “We’re working on our project.” With any luck, we can wrap it up so we no longer have to meet on a regular basis. I’ve had just about as much of Brayden Kendricks as I can withstand for one semester. More like the rest of my life.
The hard edge filling his eyes vanishes as he flashes me a grin. “Semantics, baby.”
Ugh.
I have no idea why Brayden enjoys needling me, and I’ve stopped trying to figure it out. Avoidance seems to be the best tactic to employ with him. Not that it’s done me much good.
“After practice,” I tell him. “Around seven. Does that work?”
Honestly, it would be better if—
“I’ll be there. Ready and willing.”
I huff out a breath.
Yeah, that’s exactly what I’m afraid of.
Chapter Three
Brayden
Unable to help myself, I swipe my phone off the table for the twentieth time and look at it before glancing around the third floor of the library. Sydney is nowhere to be found. She’s ten minutes late and counting.
The realization that I’m being stood up flickers through my brain. Even though we have work to plow through, I wouldn’t put it past her to be a no-show. My ability to piss off the green-eyed soccer player is almost impressive. I have no idea what I did to Sydney to earn the number-one position on her shitlist. It’s like she took an instant dislike to me and nothing I’ve done has been able to turn that frown upside down.
And I must be a glutton for punishment, because I’m unwilling to let it go.
Another three minutes slowly tick by and there’s still no sign of her.
It’s official.
I’ve been ditched.
Hell, she’s probably making out with her boyfriend somewhere. That thought is enough to piss me off more than I’d like to admit.
Fucking Ethan.
Those two are all wrong for each other. One day they’re together and the next, all hell is breaking loose. I’ve stopped trying to keep tabs on their relationship status. It changes as often as the weather. Just when I think it’s safe to swoop in for the kill, they’re back on again and sucking face right in front of me.
No. She needs a different kind of guy. Someone more like...
I shake that thought loose. Just as I’m about to pack up my computer and get the hell out of here, Sydney drops onto the chair across from me. Her face is slightly flushed, and her hair is damp from her shower.
“Sorry,” she says by way of greeting, “practice ran over by about twenty minutes.”
When her phone chimes with a message, she pulls it from her pocket before glancing at the screen and then setting it in front of her. As soon as it hits the table, I pounce.
“Hey! What are you doing? Give that back!” Her voice escalates with each word that falls from her lips as she makes a swipe for the slim device. But I’m too stealthy and lean back in my chair. Unless she’s going to dive across the table, she’s not getting her hands on it until I’m done. With quick movements, I tap the home screen and access her phone app before punching in my number. When mine buzzes with an incoming call, I hit end and hand back the cell. She scowls and rips the electronic device from my fingers. If looks could kill, I’d be dead on the spot.
Much to Sydney’s chagrin, that doesn’t occur.
“Now I have your digits,” I say with a smirk.
“Ever think that I didn’t want you to have them?” she shoots back, upper lip curling with irritation.
Yup. All the time.
When I continue to smile, her lips tighten into a grim line. My guess is that she’s on the verge of exploding. Less than thirty seconds in my presence and she’s ready to lose it. This might be an all-time record for me.
“We should get to work,” she finally grumbles. “I’ve got other assignments to finish up tonight.”
“The grind never ends,” I say lightly, because it’s the truth. It’s pressure I feel on a daily basis. My bet is that Sydney does as well. Being student athletes at Western University means that we need to be on top of our time management game. Most professors don’t give a shit if you play a sport. For them, academics are the be all end all.
“Truth.” Her shoulders loosen, falling from the general vicinity of her ears.
In silence, she pulls her computer from her backpack. Only now that I’m taking a closer look at Sydney’s face do I notice the dark purple smudges decorating the fragile skin beneath her eyes. A rush of sympathy arrows through me.
I shift in my chair, wondering if there’s anything I can do to lighten her load. Even though I’m the last person on the face of this Earth she would willingly accept help from, that doesn’t mean I’m not going to offer. She might vehemently disagree, but I’m not a complete dick. “If you’ve got other stuff to do, we can work on this another time. There are two more weeks before it needs to be turned in, and the bulk of the project is already finished.”
It’s a surprise when her expression softens. Some of the lines of tension straining her face drain away as she shakes her head. “It’s fine. We can put in a few hours here and then I’ll head home and study for my quiz.”
With a nod, we delve straight in. We’re looking at what causes financial instability among business giants. It’s an interesting topic with plenty of material to pour over. Our biggest issue has been narrowing it down to our thesis statement. We could easily write a book on the subject. Hell, dozens of them have already been published on the issue. It’s research rich.
It’s vaguely that I recall ending up in the same section of an introductory accounting class with Sydney freshman year. This is the second course we’ve had together. To say it was a surprise to learn that she’s an accounting major is an understatement. Her personality doesn’t quite fit the stereotype. The girl is a real firecracker. I have a difficult time imagining her hunched over a desk, crunching numbers all by her lonesome for sixteen hours a day during tax season.
After about two hours of shoring up our research, I found a few more references that back up our assertion. With a stretch of my muscles, I glance up. That’s all it takes for my gaze to fasten on the girl across from me. Her brows are furrowed in concentration as she pours over a document on her computer. For just a few moments, I’m able to study her while she’s unaware of my perusal. If she realized what I was doing, the intensity would be replaced with a dark scowl. I don’t think I’ve ever met a girl who was so hostile to my advances. Usually, I can charm the panties right off the opposite sex.
That’s not the case with this one. She’s liable to bite my hand off if I even try.
I’ve often wondered what it is about Sydney that has captured my interest so completely. She’s pretty with long, blonde hair and vibrant, green-colored eyes. They’re almost the exact shade of freshly-mowed grass. If you look closely enough, there’s a delicate smattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose. She’s probably around five-foot-six with a tight, athletic body and muscular legs from years of kicking around a soccer ball.
And her breasts...
My gaze unconsciously drops to them.
She’s wearing a turquoise Dri-Fit T-shirt that hugs the roundness of her chest. Most guys are all about the tits and ass. The more curves, the better. I don’t necessarily feel that way. Sure, I like breasts. What red-b
looded, college-aged guy doesn’t? But I don’t need to be smothered to death by them when a chick is riding me. And yeah, there’s been a few times when I thought that asphyxiation was a genuine possibility.
It wouldn’t be a bad way to go, I’m just saying...
But Sydney isn’t built like that at all. Her breasts would be the perfect palmful.
Not that I would know. As much as I’d like to find out for myself, that’s not going to happen. The girl would probably take me out if I were to accidently graze her boob.
I’m still lamenting the fact that I’ll never get my hands on her when movement from the corner of my eye catches my attention. Since we’re camped out on the third floor of the library, there isn’t much student traffic. It’s quieter up here. People aren’t constantly stopping by the table, wanting to shoot the shit about the football season and our chances of bringing home a conference championship. I have no problem talking about that, but not when I’m with Sydney. This is about as much alone time as I’m going to get with her, and I need to take advantage of it.
My gaze flickers to the couple who has now settled at a table on the other side of the space.
Wait a minute—
Is that Sydney’s boyfriend Ethan?
No way.
I’ve known Ethan Price since freshman year. We lived on the same floor in the dorms. It’s grudgingly that I’ll admit he’s a decent guy. He’s not one of those boyfriends who conveniently forgets he’s in a relationship when he’s out with the bros. I’ve known plenty of dudes like that. Not only do they want their cake, but they want to devour it, too. They want as much fucking cake as they can stuff in their pie holes.
Ethan has never struck me as that type.
So, what the hell is he doing here with another chick?
By this point, I’m craning my neck, watching them with open interest. Ethan hasn’t even bothered to glance in our direction. He’s focused on the tall brunette parked across from him. There’s lots of smiling and laughing. A few touches here and there.
My brows rise, recognizing flirty behavior when I see it.
Hmm. Is it possible that I’m jumping the gun here? Just because Ethan is at the library with a girl, it doesn’t mean jack shit. Sydney and I are doing the same thing, and we’re totally platonic. There is absolutely no flirting going on at all.
Much to my disappointment.
Just as I’m about to disregard the situation as wishful thinking on my part and get back to work, Ethan leans across the table and plants a kiss on the girl’s lips.
One Mississippi.
Two Mississippi.
Three Mississippi.
Four—
What the actual fuck?
A kiss like that definitely constitutes cheating.
And right out in the open at the damn library, no less?
This guy is un-fucking-believable. I’m half-tempted to stomp over there and knock him upside his head. Doesn’t he realize that his girlfriend is sitting on the other side of the room? Sydney could swing around at any moment and see them making out.
What a jackass.
I’m knocked from those thoughts when the girl across from me clears her throat. My distracted attention slices to her.
“Did you say something?” she asks.
I certainly hope not.
“Umm,” what to do—what to do, “yeah. I think we’ve plowed through enough for the night. We should probably head out so you can study for that quiz before it gets too late.” I’m rambling, and it’s not a good look for me. “We can pick this back up tomorrow or whenever you have a couple of hours of free time.” When she continues to stare like a horn has sprouted on my forehead, I slam my laptop closed. I want to get out of here before she catches sight of her cheating asshole of a boyfriend. Honestly, I should be delighted to point out what’s going on behind her back.
Literally.
I know exactly how the situation would play out. She’d dump his ass in two minutes flat. Maybe then I’d have a real shot at fucking Sydney out of my system. Where she’s concerned, I’m not picky. I’d be more than happy to be rebound sex. This chick has lingered in my thoughts for way too long.
But still...as well as this situation could work out for me, I’m reluctant to take that approach. The last thing I want to do is hurt her.
If her brows weren’t pinched together to begin with, they’re practically touching now. “You want to leave already? We’ve only been here for,” she glances at her phone, “two hours, and there’s still more to do.”
I shrug as my gaze flickers in the couple’s direction. Hopefully, they’re no longer sucking face.
Nope. They’re still going at it like two cats in heat. Any moment, he’s going to crawl across the table and mount her for all to see.
“Brayden?” Impatience simmers in Sydney’s voice.
My gaze snaps back to hers. A frown tugs at the edges of her lips as she swings around and glances in the direction I’ve been staring. I know the moment she catches sight of them. Her muscles tense.
Mine do as well, waiting to see how this situation will play out. I’m half expecting her to jump up, storm over there, and punch Ethan in the face before beating the crap out of the unlucky chick. If there’s anyone who could do it, it’s Sydney. She’s not afraid to throw down.
That probably shouldn’t be so hot.
Instead of doing exactly that, she calmly twists toward me on her chair. Her face has morphed into an expressionless mask. For the first time in three years, I have no idea what she’s thinking. It’s disconcerting to say the least.
“Let’s get back to work,” she murmurs.
Well, that’s certainly not the reaction I was expecting.
It takes a moment to find my voice. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but isn’t that your boyfriend over there?” Not that I want to rub the situation in her face, but I need a little clarification as to what’s going on.
A long silence stretches between us as her teeth scrape against her lower lip. She mumbles something under her breath that I can’t quite make out.
I tilt my head and cup my ear. “Sorry, I didn’t catch that. What did you say?”
Hot color stings her cheeks as she repeats, “We broke up a month ago.”
I blink, my mind drifting back to our previous conversation at lunch. “But this afternoon—”
“I said he was busy,” she grumbles, “not that we were together.”
My eyes narrow. “You know what that’s called?” I don’t give her time to respond. “Semantics. Why is this the first time I’m hearing about your breakup?” A goddamn month later.
A month!
She jerks her shoulders and avoids all eye contact. I bet she’s wishing she’d taken me up on my offer to get out of here. “Because my personal life is none of your damn business.”
Wanna bet?
Whether Sydney realizes it or not, this bit of information changes everything between us.
It’s oh-so-tempting to rub my hands together with anticipation. Since I’m not in the mood to get punched in the face, I refrain.
Just barely.
Chapter Four
Sydney
With the back of my head resting against the cool marble of the grave marker, I stare at the trees in the distance. By now, they’ve lost all of their leaves and the branches look strangely barren. The vast stretch of sky is a bright azure color as puffy, cotton candy looking clouds pass overhead. A warm October breeze wafts against my skin as birds chirp and bees drone nearby, buzzing from one flower to another. They must have figured out that there’s always an endless supply of fresh bouquets here.
As much as I hate coming to the cemetery, I do it twice a month like clockwork. Just like I have been for the past four years. I can’t imagine what it would be like to stop. It would probably feel like a limb that had been freshly amputated. The phantom pain would serve as a perpetual reminder that something integral was missing from my life.
It’s not lik
e I can’t talk to my brother anywhere, but it always feels like he’s with me when I’m sitting against his headstone. Almost like there’s a direct line of communication between us. Even though the idea of him being buried six feet beneath the ground fills me with sadness, I think that’s the reason I end up here. It’s the last place I saw him before he was laid to rest.
Is he resting now?
Sometimes I wonder about that.
It’s a depressing thought.
Peter was always so full of life and restless energy. He could make me smile against my will. And I loved him for it. Mom always joked that there was an invisible motor tied to his butt. He never stopped moving. My brother was four years older than me and graduated high school the year before I started as a freshman. Even though a handful of years separated us, we were close. Out of my four brothers, we had the most in common.
It was his love for soccer that prompted me to pick up a ball and kick it around in the backyard. Even as a small child, I wanted to be exactly like him and attempted to emulate everything he did. Soccer is what we bonded over, and, in the end, it’s what got me through the pain of his loss.
People say that time heals all wounds. I think it’s a lie we tell ourselves to make it through the grief. The realization that it never gets easier would be too much to bear.
“Remember last time, when I told you I thought Lucus had a girlfriend?” I pause as if waiting for him to pipe up with a response. Instead, the cemetery remains eerily silent. “Turns out that my suspicions were right on the money. Mom swung by the Stop and Shop the other day to pick up some groceries and there they were, in the checkout area, heads bent together, whispering to one another.” A chuckle slides from my lips. “You know Mom, she took it upon herself to make introductions. Apparently, the girl’s name is Holly, and she lives with her parents. She just started working at the grocery store. Trust me when I say Mom got all the deets. Now that the cat is out of the bag, Lucus is talking about getting his own apartment so they can move in together. Mom is trying to hold him off until the summer, but he has a one-track mind. It’s kind of cute. Kids,” I murmur, picking at a blade of grass before folding it like an accordion. “They grow up so dang fast.”
Campus Heartthrob (The Campus Series Book 2) Page 3
