Greek: A New Adult College Romance (Palm South University Book 7)

by Kandi Steiner

  “Yeah, well, I’ve had a few badass women in my life to slap me into shape along the way.”

  I chuckle at that, and then with those apologies still dancing in our eyes, Clinton slides his palm along my cheek to frame my neck, and I lean into the touch on a content sigh.

  Home.

  The word flitters through me like a warm wind, and I blink my eyes open, smiling as I realize it’s not being here in this condo that makes me feel this way.

  It’s being with him.

  “I’ve missed you,” Clinton croaks.

  I nod, leaning in to kiss him, and he wraps his arms around me even tighter.

  “I have some news,” he says.

  “I do, too.”

  “You first.”

  I shake my head. “I’d rather hear yours. Especially if it’s good, because mine is not.”

  That makes him frown, but I smooth my thumb over the line between his brows.

  “I’m okay. But you first,” I say again.

  He sighs, and I know he wants to argue, but he refrains. Sitting up a little straighter, he covers my hand with his, fingers trailing the skin of my palm. “I don’t think there’s any slow and easy way to say this, so I’ll just get to the point.” His eyes meet mine. “I quit my job.”

  My eyebrows shoot into my hairline.

  “Well,” I say. “That wasn’t what I was expecting.”

  “Trust me — I didn’t expect it either. But I had a sort of… I don’t know. Awakening, maybe? While you were gone, and over the last couple of weeks that we’ve been apart. I’ve had a lot of time to think, and when I wasn’t mulling over how stupid I was to pick a fight with you over Gavin—”

  “You’re not stupid.”

  “—I was thinking over what comes next. For me. For us,” he adds, bringing my knuckles to his lips. A gentle kiss, and then he holds them there, his eyes on mine. “I went to the bank today and applied for a small business loan.”

  My jaw drops. “Oh, my God, Bear.”

  “And I got approved.”

  That makes me jump off the couch. “Oh, my God!” The smile that splits my face is so big, so wide that it hurts a little as I yank Clinton off the couch and make him jump around with me. He laughs and picks me up with a spin, and when my feet are on the ground again, I slug him in the arm.

  “Ouch!” He pretends it actually hurt, rubbing his arm.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?! I would have gone with you!”

  He chuckles, holding my arms in his hands. “I wanted to do it on my own. Besides… things have been strained between us. I thought maybe if I showed up with some good news, you’d forgive me easier.”

  “I forgave you before you even thought to apologize.”

  “And that’s just one of the many reasons why I love you.”

  I blush, plopping back down on the couch and tugging Clinton to follow. “So, what does this mean?”

  “It means…” He laughs, shaking his head. “It means I have my own business. Or, well, I have the start of it, anyway. I found a few small retail spaces that I could potentially rent out for the studio. Now that I have my loan, and my business plan, I just need to get my website up and running, plan out a marketing strategy, get the studio set up with everything it needs and then…”

  “And then make a million fucking dollars in the first year,” I finish for him.

  He barks out a laugh at that. “I’m pretty sure that’s impossible as a personal trainer, but I appreciate your enthusiasm.”

  “I’m going to help you. We’ll make videos for social media, and everyone will fall in love with you and be clamoring to get your time. It doesn’t have to be confined to just the studio, you know. You could have virtual clients.”

  He frowns. “Virtual clients… I hadn’t even considered that.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “Want to be my VP?”

  I scoff. “More like you’re the VP. I’ve always been El Presidente, babe.”

  Bear smiles, his warm eyes searching mine as he leans in and presses a slow, soft kiss to my lips. “I can’t tell you how much it means to have you in my corner. I have no idea what I’m doing, so I’m going to need you. As per usual.”

  “I’m here,” I promise.

  “There’s one more thing I need to tell you,” Bear says with a sigh. “Giselle hit on me.”

  I blanch. “What?”

  “It was while you were gone. We were at the gym, went to the sauna after, and she started by asking why I was off. I thought she was just being there for me as a colleague, but then she had her hand on my thigh and was—”

  “I’ll kill her.”

  Clinton chuckles, squeezing my hand in his. “No need. I put her in her place. And then promptly quit.”

  “Is that why you quit?”

  “Partly,” he admits. “But not completely. I believe in this dream. Almost as much as I believe in us.”

  I smile, shoulders deflating. “Well… I still want to kill her, but I also feel all warm and fuzzy knowing you handled it.”

  Clinton leans in for a long kiss before he sits back, tapping my knee. “Your turn.”

  My stomach sours, then, smile instantly slipping.

  I can’t sit still while I talk about it, so I stand, pacing the living room for a moment before I finally say the words.

  “The charges got dropped.”

  A pause.

  A breath.

  And then a roar.

  “What?!”

  Bear jumps to his feet, his chest puffed, fists clenched.

  “What the fuck do you mean, the charges got dropped?”

  “Exactly what I said. They got dropped.” I wave my hand in the air. “Lack of evidence.”

  “Lack of—” Clinton’s jaw drops, and then he smiles — a sadistic, twisted sort of smile as he shakes his head. He hangs his hands on his hips, tongue in cheek. “I’ll kill them.”

  As if he’s going to do it right in this very moment, he stomps toward the door, and because I don’t trust that he’s kidding, I hook him around the elbow and pull him to a stop.

  “It’s over, Bear.”

  “Like hell it is. It’s not over until they’re all behind bars or dead. And since the first apparently isn’t happening…”

  “Bear, please,” I plead, and he looks at me then, seeing the hurt in my eyes. “I’ve been agonizing over this for two weeks now. I don’t want to get angry again. I’ve finally come to accept it.”

  “Two weeks? Erin, why didn’t you tell me sooner? Why wasn’t I the first one you called?”

  “Because just like you needed to get your loan on your own, I needed to process this first — before letting anyone else in. I needed to be alone.”

  He frowns. “I hate that.”

  “I know. But thank you for respecting it, anyway.”

  A ginormous sigh leaves his chest, and his eyes find the windows, the lights of the city reflected in his hazel irises. “So… that’s just it? There’s no fighting it, nothing else we can do?”

  “That’s it,” I whisper.

  He shakes his head. “I’m so sorry, Erin.”

  “Me, too.”

  Bear pulls me in for a hug, resting his chin on the crown of my head.

  “I’m proud of you,” he whispers. “It took a lot of guts to do what you did. I’m sorry the justice system failed you, but I hope you don’t regret coming forward.”

  “I don’t,” I assure him, pulling back to look into his eyes. “In fact… I don’t want to stop here.”

  He frowns. “I thought you said there was nothing else we could do.”

  “About Landon? No. There’s not.” I swallow. “But I want to help other victims. I want to be there when a woman is brave enough to come forward, and I want to fight for her, fight against the system set up to continue making this something to be ashamed of, something to be afraid to do.”

  Bear just rubs my arms, waiting.

  “I’m shifting my focus into criminal law.
I want to be a prosecutor.”

  He whistles. “Damn, girl. That’s a tough career to get into.”

  “It’ll take a lot of hard work, a lot of persistence, and likely a lot of luck. Everyone wants an internship at the prosecutor’s office this summer. I just have to somehow find a way to make sure they pick me.”

  “How can I help?”

  “I’ll let you know when I figure it out. For now, I need to focus on finals and getting through the rest of this semester. I’m heartbroken over the prosecutor’s decision in my case,” I admit. “But if anything, it’s lit a fire in me. I feel stronger now that I’ve faced those monsters head on — even if they never have to pay for what they did to me.”

  Bear’s fists curl again at that.

  “I may not be able to win every time, but I promise this,” I say, pulling back to gaze up at Bear. “I will never stop fighting.”

  His chest swells again. “And I thought I was proud of you before.”

  I smirk, and then his lips are on mine, warm and comforting and safe.

  “I have something for you,” he says almost sheepishly when he pulls away.

  “Okay…”

  “I have to run down and get it from the lobby. Why don’t you pour us a glass of wine and I’ll heat up our food when I get back?”

  I nod, and then he’s gone, leaving my door cracked behind him as he jets into the hallway.

  I take my time pouring us the wine, taking the first sip and sighing at the release it brings. I’m staring out the window with my thoughts running wild when the door creaks open again.

  And when I turn, I nearly drop my wine glass.

  There he is — my Bear, my man, my everything — smirking in that sexy way he does.

  And cradled in his beastly arms is the tiniest, fluffiest puppy I’ve ever seen.

  “Oh, my God! Bear! You got me a puppy?!” I set my wine glass down without caring that I spill a little in the process, and then I rush over, swooping the golden fluff ball out of Clinton’s arms and holding it to my chest.

  “I got us a puppy.”

  I giggle as the little thing licks my face. It has floppy auburn ears and fluffy golden fur, but its paws tell me that it won’t be this little for long.

  “Boy or girl?”

  “Girl. I didn’t name her yet. Wanted to let you have the honor.”

  “She’s so cute,” I whine — and it really is a whine, my voice three octaves higher than I realized it could even reach as I move us over to the couch and sit down.

  I plop the puppy beside me, laughing when her little leg slips between the cushions and she sinks before rolling over and offering me her belly. I pet it as her tongue lolls out to the side.

  When I look up at Clinton, he smiles down at the puppy before sitting on the other side of her, petting behind her ears as I rub her tummy. Then, his eyes find mine, a bit of fear mixed with adoration in those irises.

  “Move in with me.”

  My hand stalls.

  “Erin, I realized a lot of things in this time we’ve been apart — like that I drive myself absolutely insane thinking about the possibility of ever losing you.”

  I roll my lips together, eyes glossing.

  “You were right. I do have a lot of things in my past that I haven’t faced, haven’t handled. And we both have a lot of hurdles ahead of us. But I want you there for all of it. I want you to know everything about me, to be there through the good and the bad, and I want to be there for yours, too.”

  “Bear…”

  “I want forever with you, Erin Xanders.”

  My heart swells like a balloon, and I choke on something between a laugh and a sob as Clinton grabs my hands in his.

  “And I don’t care if it’s in Pennsylvania or Florida or middle of nowhere Kansas,” he says as I laugh, squeezing his hands. “I’m never going to be perfect. I’m always going to find new ways to frustrate you and piss you off.”

  “Ditto.”

  “None of that matters, though. As long as we have each other, I want it all.” He slides a little closer as the puppy climbs on top of our laps, nipping at our shirts for attention. “Move in with me, Erin. Start a life with me. Because I can’t live without you, and I never want to try.”

  Tears blur my vision as I nod, but I can’t speak the word.

  “Is that a yes?”

  I laugh, setting the first rush of tears free. “Yes,” I whisper.

  I’m swept into his arms in the next instant, and the puppy takes it as a cue to play, nipping at us and letting out the cutest bark I’ve ever heard. We both pull back on a smile, and Clinton pulls a little toy from his pocket, offering it to the pup who eagerly chews on it.

  “You had that the whole time?”

  “Oh, you should see the supplies in my truck right now.”

  I laugh. “So… when do we do this?”

  “Is now too soon?”

  “Maybe,” I say on a chuckle. “I need to pack. And Jess…”

  “Will be just fine,” he promises me. “How about you focus on getting through the rest of the semester, and I’ll handle packing and moving. Deal?”

  I nod. “Deal.” Then, I shake my head, covering my mouth with both hands. “We’re moving in together.”

  “We are.”

  “We need a Christmas tree.”

  “That can be arranged.”

  “And we have a puppy!”

  He laughs. “We do. What do you want to name the little girl?”

  He grabs one end of the toy, playing tug of war as the puppy presses weight into her haunches and fights against him. She loses her grip, plopping down on her butt and looking up at me with the cutest face before she’s up and going again.

  Knocked down, but never defeated.

  “Zelda,” I whisper, eyes flicking to Clinton.

  “A little warrior, huh?” he muses, ruffling the fur behind Zelda’s neck. “Just like her mama.”

  “Does that make you daddy?” I purr, arching a brow when Bear freezes, his eyes flashing to mine.

  “Say that again, and I’ll show you just how daddy I can be.”

  “Swear it?”

  And with a wicked smile, he pulls me into him for a hot, promising kiss.

  EVERYTHING IS QUIET UNDER here.

  Eyes closed, breath locked in my chest, hair floating all around me.

  The bath water is warm, pleasant against my sore muscles after physical therapy. And while nothing has been able to calm my racing thoughts over the last couple of weeks, this is pretty close to peace.

  Here, submerged, I can hear my heartbeat.

  And I swear I can almost hear hers.

  Or maybe it’s his. I won’t know for a while. But she feels like a girl. She feels like she’s got my sass, my competitiveness, my will to never back down. I find myself wondering about her far too often already. Will she be athletic? Intelligent? Funny? Charming? Will she have her dad’s eyes or mine? Whose smile? Whose temper — because either way, she’s likely in trouble, and so are we.

  My lungs start searing in my chest, and I come up for a breath, warm water dripping down my face as I blink my eyes open.

  The bathroom is dark, save for the little bit of sunlight streaming in from the door I left open. It gets too hot in here when I take a bath, but the open door lets in a draft, and I relax as a gentle breeze wafts over my face.

  Everything is loud up here.

  Out of the water, anxiety attacks me, pressing me to tell Brandon while also warning me that when I do, I might not get the reaction I want. What reaction do I want? I don’t even know. But fear has me gripped, has the microphone on the stage of my mind as it swears to me that he won’t want our baby — or me once he finds out I slipped on my birth control and made this possible at all.

  That anxiety leads straight into wondering if I could do it alone, if I could be strong enough to raise a child without him. How badly would I damage her if I did it on my own? How many times would I fail her in the process of tryin
g to raise her right?

  I suppose, partner or not, we all mess our kids up somehow.

  Rich, poor, doting parents, or alcoholics — we can trace so much of our trauma back to the mother and father who bore us.

  That sends another pang through my chest, and I sigh, sinking down under water once more to block out all the noise.

  I think I knew even before I took the test. I think I knew the moment it happened, the very second I felt him spill inside me. It’s like I sensed his little swimmers on their mission, felt my eggs drop and open up. I woke in the middle of the night that night, my back to Brandon’s chest, his arms around my stomach, and I swore I felt it — that little connection inside me that would spark life.

  It’s why I didn’t drink at my own bachelorette party.

  I faked shots, putting the liquid in my mouth only to spit them into the drink I pretended to chase the shot with. When the girls ordered me a drink, I’d sip on it so lightly I barely tasted it at all until they weren’t looking and I could ditch it. When I ordered my own, it was soda water and lime.

  I knew.

  I just knew, and the anxiety was too much to not see proof on a little stick.

  I took my first pregnancy test before we left for the trip, but of course, it was too soon then. It hadn’t even been a full week since Brandon and I had returned from St. John. But that last night of the bachelorette, when Cassie was wailing over kissing a stranger, and Erin was fuming over something she wouldn’t tell us about, and Skyler was getting railed by Kip somewhere across the resort, and Jess was swiping between two photos of the men she loves… I felt it again.

  That kick in my chest.

  That stirring in my gut.

  I just knew it was time to take the test again.

  And when I did, the word pregnant showed up on the little screen just like I knew it would.

  Since then, I’ve taken multiple tests, just to be sure — and it’s been the same result every time. There’s no denying it.

  I have a little human growing inside me.

  A smile spreads on my lips, warmth washing over my soul at the thought, and then I’m jerked out of the water and back to reality.

  “Ashlei! Jesus Christ, are you okay? What are you doing?”

  I wipe the water out of my eyes to find a worried Brandon holding me by the arms — careful of my still-healing shoulder — and searching my eyes like he’s sure he just saved me from a suicide attempt.