Page 30 of Limbo

The promise of an afternoon of freedom makes the next hour-and-a-half drag on for eternity. My torture is prolonged by our professor running over. When she winds down, I jet out so fast that I barely pull on my coat.

Just outside the door, my eyes complete their habitual scan but no Jordan. Not leaning against the building or a tree. Not standing on the sidewalk or grass. Not walking over from the parking lot. I question the accuracy of the clock in the lecture hall, but my phone confirms. Two-fifty. No missed texts or calls.

For a second, I think about calling him, but then the difference from every other day finally dawns on me. He never once indicated he would see me again, not a single,See you later, beautiful.

Holy shit, he gave up. He gave up, and rather than reveling in my victory of no longer being the sexual conquest of Jordan Waters, I awkwardly stand here like my prom date never showed up. Abandoned by a one-night stand that never even happened. A damn knot ties inside me, and I actually feel disappointed.

I consider waiting longer, seeing if he’s just running late, but then I shake my head at myself and continue down the sidewalk. It was only a matter of time before one of us gave up and better him than me.

I pass a tall guy wearing a flannel winter coat with ash-blond hair in a bun. He holds a sign and watches the people walking by him. Surprised to see a panhandler on campus, I offer him a small smile. Then I read his sign—Henders.And scratch everything since I walked out of the building, including the knot unraveling faster than it formed.

After I inspect him closer, I recognize the eighth note tattoo on his neck and two piercings in his bottom lip. The singer from Jordan’s band. His eyebrows rise while he ogles my chest through my open coat.

I bend down to meet his gaze. “Are you a Jordan surrogate?”

Caught checking me out, he smirks. “Oh shit. Sorry. Yeah, I’m Benji.”

“Callie.” I straighten up, his eyes following.

“Jordan had something come up. I’m here to give you a ride.” He saunters over and tosses the sign in a trash bin by a bench.

“Thank you, but I can walk.”

“Why?” he asks, genuinely confused.

“Because I have yet to accept a ride from Jordan.”

“Cool.” He gestures up and down his long body. “I’m not Jordan.”

He has me there.

“Look,” he says, “the deal states, I haul my ass down here and give you a ride. I already moved my stuff.” He strolls toward the parking lot like it’s decided.

I’m sure more than a few of Connor’s horror films start out in a similar fashion, but he must be harmless if Jordan trusts him enough to send him. Wait, that means I trust Jordan. Do I? To not send a serial killer to pick me up, yes.

Benji spins and walks backward, holding his arms out. “Let’s go, Calico.”

Screw it. I’ve accepted rides from worse.

I catch up with him at a silver Jeep with leather seats, probably worth my tuition. Far from what I pictured Benji driving.

“Nice vehicle,” I say, crawling in.

His forehead creases as he turns the key. “You really haven’t ridden with him, huh?”

I huff out a laugh, recognizing the scent of the interior. “This is Jordan’s.”

“Sure is.” Benji whips out of the parking lot without asking for directions. Before I can give it much thought, he glances over, eyeing me. “You should give him a chance. He’s a good guy.”

I squint, not sure what to make of him yet. “He’s doing all this to sleep with me.”

With a deep chuckle, he nods. “Smart girl. But you have to admit, the man has committed to his cause. All weekend, he stayed glued to his phone. And last night, he turned down Brooke.” He glances over when I don’t answer and readjusts in his seat. “Brooke? You must not follow the music scene, so let me give you a description. She’s stacked, and the places she puts her tongue—”

“I get the picture.”

He smirks at my interruption “My point is, this started out one hundred percent to screw you. But it’s about more than that now. I’ve known Jordan a few years, and he’s a very in-the-moment guy. He considers ten minutes long-term status.”

“And you’re a trustworthy source? Don’t you have some bandmates’ blood oath or something to uphold?”

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