I always thought the universe put me at NJU and Sheridan Hall to connect me to Winston. Maybe though, just maybe, that was a fluke. Maybe my reason for ending up at NJU is sitting in front of me with twinkly eyes, holding out a piece of licorice.
Dave
Saturday morning, after an early morning bike ride, I get back to the dorm room to find Tuck, awake and waiting for me. “Great news,” he says.
His words are drawn out, so I know he’s pissed. I plop onto the bed and pick up my phone to text Maggie. She stayed at the library late until Meg dragged her back to her room. I didn’t get to see her last night and I miss her already.
When the silence hangs, I look up to find Tuck staring at me. “Do I have your full attention?” he asks.
“Sorry.” I put down the phone. “What’s up?”
He leans against my desk and crosses his arms. “Your mother and my father got us internships at the statehouse for the summer.”
I bolt upright. “What? Why? We won’t be upstate.”
Tucker rubs his forehead. “Apparently we will be. They’re still pissed about our grades last semester. They claim we’re using the shooting as an excuse.”
“Fuck.” They’ll never understand what it’s like to walk into a building where something terrible has happened and try to move on with your life. I can admit though that even without the shooting, my grades would have sucked. “We have to get out of it. What do we do?”
Tucker paces the room. “I hoped you’d ask me that, David. We should probably do two things.” All our lives, Tuck has come up with plans to get us in and out of trouble.
“I’m listening.”
He stops and holds up a finger. “First, we have to go visit and kiss some major ass.”
I cringe. I don’t want to leave NJU and Maggie, not one bit. But we haven’t been home since the holidays, and maybe if they saw us and we charmed them, they’d back off. “Okay, if you think it will help. What’s the second thing?”
“We get our own summer jobs. Meaning, you get us this tour gig.”
“Me? How—”
“How, you ask?” Tuck paces in front of me. “How we get it is that we do original Randoms at the charity gala and we kick ass.”
My stomach churns. “No—”
Tucker holds up a hand to stop me. “Would you rather wear a suit and tie all summer and carpool to Albany with Mom and Uncle Garrett?”
The thought makes me gag a little. “That sounds like a nightmare.”
Tucker nods. “Yeah, pretty much.”
My guitar case leans against the foot of my bed, staring me down with a challenge I’m not ready to accept. “I don’t know, Tuck.”
“What’s the problem?”
I rub my hands over my face. “For one thing, my father doesn’t think music is a legit way to make a living. I’m not sure he’ll accept us going on tour over an internship at the statehouse.”
“Don’t you worry your pretty little head about that. Let me work my magic on Uncle Andy.” Tuck and my father are close—closer than my father and me. “What else?” he asks.
I shrug. “I don’t want to go on stage with something that’s not perfect.”
He shakes his head like he’s having a seizure. “Wha…wha… Perfect? You think people expect perfection? We’re a group of college kids with a band. Nobody expects perfection. Not yet anyway.”
“Music execs at the gala will expect perfection. If we want to get on this tour, we need to be perfect—”
He holds up his hands again. “We don’t need to be perfect. We need to be brave. Get some balls. It’s all in the attitude. The confidence. The stage presence. And you’ve got that down pat.”
“I’m only confident singing other people’s songs.” It’s an admission I don’t make lightly. “My songs can never be as good.”
“You need to get over that. Soon. Because if you don’t, you and I will be lunching with a bunch of middle-aged lawyers discussing how they power-washed their siding and dropped their kids off at summer camp that morning. Is that what you want? Or would you rather travel the East Coast on a tour bus with The Dregs, the most awesome indie band ever? Think of what we can learn. Think about the chicks….”
His voice trails off, then he stares at me. When he doesn’t say anything but keeps gawking, I ask, “What?”
He lifts his chin and looks down his nose at me. “This isn’t about Squirrel Girl, is it?”
I make a weird noise and stutter. “Guh…Muh…Maggie? What do you mean?”
He covers his face with his hands and groans. “Please tell me you’re not afraid to leave for the summer tour because of your new girlfriend.”
So maybe it had dawned on me that if Maggie ends up in New York for her internship and I stay here, we could conceivably spend the summer together. I can’t tell Tuck that though. Or Maggie for that matter. I want her to get her internship, but if I’m being honest with myself, I want to be with her too.
I shake my head to erase the fantasies unfolding in my mind. The scene where she and I are sitting on the beach, holding hands. The one where she’s in a bikini and I’m rubbing oil on her shoulders. I try to erase the scene where we fall into bed together after one of my shows. I sit up straighter, meeting Tuck’s gaze. “She’ll be in Washington all summer. The state, not the capital.”
He sighs in relief. “Good. You two can miss each other all you want, but we’ll need your full attention. Starting tomorrow, we’re meeting every night for practice. Especially if we have to take time to go home and play nice with the parents. I want you to seriously think about what performing original songs can mean for the band, okay? Promise me you’ll think on it?”
But if Maggie stays….
I don’t answer.
He scowls at me. “Tomorrow night, your sweet ass is ours. Get it on with Squirrel Girl tonight and don’t plan on seeing her until the gala.” He pulls his car keys off his desk. “And I’ll be keeping these close. No romantic, allergy-ridden picnics for you. Your. Ass. Is. Mine.”
I lie back down and give him the finger while images of the statehouse lunchroom invade my mind. “How do you say that in Spanish?”
He huffs. “Right. I’m supposed to be teaching you.”
“Mommy wants my grades to go up. So teach me, Señor.”
He laughs, grabs his bag, and walks out the door.
“I guess we’re not studying?” I yell after him.
Alone now, I pick up my phone and text Maggie.
Good morning, beautiful. How’s it going? Need anything?
She texts right back.
I’m bored. Need my new boyfriend to pay attention to me. I miss him.
I smile at the phone. I’ll take that title any day.
New boyfriend? Who is he? I’ll kick his ass.
I text back a slew of emojis and, a little while later, meet my new girlfriend at the library. I walk in like I own the place, strutting with my chin held high—it is my third time there. I have a girlfriend. A smart one who hangs at the library, even on the weekends, and who’s hot too. I love feeling all possessed and possessive.
I walk past the busy part of the library and catch a coed checking me out. I don’t give her a second glance. Off the market, sweetheart. I smile as I climb the staircase and make my way through the stacks, feeling like a rock star.
I sneak up behind her and put my chin on her shoulder, taking a long whiff of her strawberry hair. She startles and twists to look at me. Her eyes aren’t quite as bright, and her ponytail sags down the back of her head. A glance at her laptop screen shows she’s made progress, but it’s easy to see she needs a break.
She sighs. “I’m so happy to see you.”
“I think I came at just the right time. You need a break, beautiful?”
Her tired eyes widen. “Yes. You don’t know how much.”
We leave her papers, hoodie, blanket, and cushion, and grab her laptop and her bag. I hold her hand, leading her through the library and back out t
he doors I’d just entered. The second we step outside, her face perks up.
She shields her eyes as she looks over the commons. Then she pulls off her pink sweater, revealing an even pinker tank top with lacy straps. She ties the sweater around her waist, and I can’t take my eyes off of her. Those shoulders. I’m becoming obsessed. They’re perfectly shaped and feel so smooth, so soft. Images from our date night distract me. The way her skin felt, the taste of her cherry lip gloss. The sweet noises she made play over and over in my mind like a song.
“It’s so warm and bright this morning. I’m going to miss the sun while I’m holed up in the library.”
When she looks at me, I remember we’re talking and outside, and I’m supposed to act like a supportive boyfriend, not a lovesick puppy. She’s here with me, in real life. I’m not imagining this, like I had since September. Not fantasy Maggie, she’d said. Real Maggie.
I pull it together to be real Dave. “Hopefully you’ll be missing the sun for longer than a week when you’re in the rainy Pacific Northwest.”
She smiles. “Hopefully.”
We walk down the library steps toward the commons. I shift her bags on my back and take her hand. I like having the contact with her when I can.
After a few seconds, she stops walking and stares straight ahead as rushed students make a pattern around us.
“Maggie? Are you okay?” For a second, I panic that she got stung again.
She turns to face me and reaches for my hands. “If by some miracle I get to go to Olympia, would you…you know…want to come?” Her voice shakes, and her eyes dart back and forth.
I want to say yes with everything in me. I would follow her to the ends of the earth any other summer. I squeeze her hands. “I’d go with you. Anywhere. But this summer—”
“You probably have plans.” She tilts her head, shrugging.
“The band. There’s a small chance we can join a summer tour up and down the East Coast, with this awesome band called The Dregs. Have you heard of them?”
She shakes her head. “That’s great news. Why didn’t you tell me?”
I shrug and jam my hands into my pockets. We start walking through the commons. “I was scared.”
“Why?”
“Because some big music dude will be at the gala. Tuck wants us to sing originals—”
Maggie’s smile shines. “Yes! You totally should do that—”
“But the songs aren’t ready.”
“They aren’t ready, or you aren’t ready? What was that you told me about going for my dreams just yesterday?”
I roll my shoulders then crack my neck. “Hmm. I changed my mind. I want to go to Olympia with you instead. I want to gaze at the Pacific, walk in the rain, and go whale watching.”
She tsks, and her blue eyes widen. “Is that what happens up there? No way. I’m rescinding the invitation.”
“You can’t do that.”
“I can. I just did. I want you to try for the gig.”
Of course she does. Just like I want her to try for her internship. “You really think I should do the new songs?”
Maggie shrugs those beautiful shoulders. “I’d like to see you want something.”
“I want you.” The words come out without a thought.
She puckers her lips and air kisses me. “Something besides me. You seem pretty casual with everything in your life. School, the band, your…” She clears her throat. “Floormates.”
“Ouch.” I hate thinking about that first week.
Maggie shrugs. “Just calling it like I see it. I think your calm demeanor is part of the attraction—that you-ness I’ve spoken of. But it’s nice to be motivated to be better too. You could try it.”
Groaning, I look to the sky. The words sound a lot better coming from the sweet girl standing across from me who’s the picture of motivation, rather than from my parents or cousin. I exhale and find her eyes. “You’re right.”
She smiles. “Will you sing the squirrel song?”
I shake my head. “No way. That one was for your beautiful ears only.” I lean in and kiss her earlobe.
She sighs and nuzzles against my lips. “Thank you for writing it for me.”
“It’s just a dumb song.”
Maggie puts her arms around me. “None of your songs are dumb songs.”
I’m not sure I agree. I pull back to look into her eyes. “I have a favor to ask you.”
“My answer is yes!” Her face lights up, her smile widening.
Damn, I love that smile. I kiss her nose. “I didn’t ask yet.”
“Whatever you need, I’ll help.”
I squeeze her a little tighter. “Will you be my date to the charity gala? I have band stuff, but I’d love to walk in with you, have a dance, I don’t know. You’re gorgeous, and I’d like to be the guy who gets to touch you.”
She tilts her head and tightens her hold on me. “That’s the easiest favor ever. There’s nobody I’d rather go with.” Then she lets go of my waist and grabs my hand, holding it while we walk.
I ask her how her paper is coming along, and she rattles off stats and scientific terms. I’m happy to listen to her talk. I watch her face animate and the way her eyes light up. A surge of guilt passes through me when I remember my summer fantasy of Maggie staying in New York with me. She needs to get her internship. Hell, maybe I need to get the tour too.
Lost in my Maggie trance, I hadn’t realized she’d led me back to the door of Sheridan. She digs in her bag, which I’m holding on my back.
My body comes alive as I wonder what her plan is. “You procrastinator! I thought we were going to get you fed and re-energized?”
She pulls out her swipe card and the door clicks open. Grabbing my hand, she smiles a sexy grin. “I know exactly what I need to get re-energized.”
She may as well be holding out a nut as I raise my eyebrows, smile, and follow her inside.
Chapter 16
Maggie
The hallway is quiet. It’s a welcome event and rarely happens.
Dave’s hand feels like a ball of heat in mine. I grip it, making sure he knows my actions are intended.
“Where is everyone?”
“They took a day trip. Atlantic City.” I lead him to my door and turn to him, lacing my hands around his waist. “Wanna hang out?”
His eyes pop and his mouth opens, but it takes a second before the words start. “Oh? I…um…like now…?”
His stutter is adorable. I love that I can still get him to do that. That Second Floor Dave of Sheridan Hall melts right into a ball of mush for me. Well, not quite “mush.” Not the parts of him I feel pressed against my body.
I unlock the door and close it behind him as he places my bags on my desk. “Thank you for carrying my stuff.” It’s old-fashioned, but I love it.
He bobs his head, and again his mouth opens with no sound. He fidgets and then runs a hand through his hair.
I move to him. “Remember what you said about the charity gala and being allowed to touch me? I kind of missed you last night.”
“Kind of?”
I move closer and trace my hands up his arms to his shoulders. He’s standing, staring like a statue, and letting me do whatever I want. “Feel like touching me again?”
He takes a deep breath, puts his hands on my neck, and lowers his face to mine. “Everywhere. All the time.”
Then he kisses me.
As I wrap myself around him, I don’t care about anything. I know we just met. I know there’s a possibility that we’re both going away in a few weeks. I know I’m still healing a broken heart. What I’m doing, what we’re doing, at the pace we’re doing it, makes no sense.
But….
I.
Don’t.
Care.
Because when Dave’s hand slides the rubber band down my ponytail and my hair falls over my shoulders, when he opens his eyes and looks into mine like he can’t believe I’m real, when his fingers find my shoulders and he gasps when touching
me, like he may break me, it all feels right.
He’s so many things without even trying. He’s every hero I’ve read about that I wished was real. He’s the hot guy upstairs whom the girls swoon over. He’s the son of some senator person who thinks he’s a slacker. He’s a kitten saver, a songwriter, and a performer. He’s a million things, and I want all of them. The good, the bad, the fun, and the scary.
Because that’s what real romance is. Real romance isn’t some crazy setup by the universe to be housed in the dorm room next to your first love. Real love isn’t Niall in his kilt, or pirates and CEOs and vampires.
Real romance is what I have in my arms. It’s this boy who adores me and lets me know it with every look. It’s a seat cushion, a blanket, and a cup of coffee in the library. It’s taking a chance and being together, even though we may have to leave each other for the summer. It’s supporting each other when one needs to work on a paper and one needs to practice with his band across the river. It’s not fantasy Dave or fantasy Maggie. It’s the real us. And I may not know him well enough to be doing what I’m doing, but I trust his feelings for me more than I ever trusted Win’s.
Because I can feel them every time he looks at me. He can stutter all he wants because I don’t need to hear his words. It’s all obvious.
I kiss him harder. I want Dave. I want how he makes my body feel, and I want how he makes my heart feel. I also want the internship. I want it all. Everything.
And dammit, why can’t I have it?
Dave
After our amazing afternoon sex, I walk Maggie back to the library. I wrap the NJU blanket around her legs, make sure she has fresh coffee and all her devices are working, place her glasses on her nose, and kiss her goodbye. Sounds easy, but leaving her after our afternoon is one of the most difficult things I’ve done at NJU. “Thanks for today,” I murmur between kisses.
“You know something, Dave?”
“What’s that, beautiful?”
“I like you.” She says it matter-of-factly. Like it just dawned on her.
I laugh. “Well, I’m glad since we just had awesome sex—”
She Wants It All: Book Three of the Sheridan Hall Series Page 16
