Page 40 of Trust Me Always

I stare at my friend a moment, then throw my hands up and move toward the kitchen. “In case you were wondering, this isn’t helping.”

“So what are you going to do, hide out here forever?”

“Seems like a solid plan.”

“Until Thursday arrives, and you have to be his partner in class.”

My face falls and the traitor laughs.

“Forgot about that, did you?” She smirks. “At least it’s a hybrid class so you don’t have to see him in person twice a week unless you have project work to do.”

I pout some more. “I just want to pretend he doesn’t exist for a few months and see if I care at the end of it.”

“Uh-huh, and did you decide this before or after Saturday?”

“Fuck off,” I mumble, ignoring her amusement and heading to my room.

Plopping down on my bed, I stare up at my ceiling, wondering what to do from here.

It’s not that I regret being the aggressor and taking a ride on Alister’s disco stick, as Lady Gaga so expertly put it. I don’t. I wanted what he had to offer in that moment, so I went for it, and he obliged.

Does that complicate things even more now? Probably, but it doesn’t change anything. I’m still fucked in the head, and he’s still an ass for making me feel that way. To be fair, I’m an ass for taking things to the end zone at the party, but if I know Alister the way I think I do, he’s not upset with me over it, and therein lies the problem.

I guarantee I didn’t deter him by running out and ignoring him after.

No, if his string of unanswered calls and messages tells me anything, it’s quite the opposite, which only makes shit harder.

I wanted time, and then I erased it at the first feel of his erection. Now I have to start over in order to figure out what the fuck it is I’m after here.

I pick up my phone for the first time today and open my and Alister’s message thread, but I don’t read over them. I back out and, with one long inhale, swipe my finger to the left.

I delete the entire thing.

And then I ditch class on Thursday, fully aware that Friday morning, the entire Avix U football team will be loading up on a bus for an away game, and he’ll be on it.

Alister

She’s avoiding me. I’ve called her a dozen times, texted her twice as many, and the girl either turned off her read receipts or she isn’t even opening my messages.

I don’t blame her, but I think it’s fair to want to have a conversation after Saturday night when she blew my damn mind.

Man, having her in my arms again felt right. For the first time in months, I was able to forget about all the other bullshit that is my life, and it had nothing to do with alcohol. That might be what settled her nerves when I first approached her on the dance floor, the same way it was what made me decide to go to her at the risk of getting smacked upside the head—if not by her-damn-self, then by her helicopter friends. Not saying it’s bad to have a gang of people looking out for you, it’s just not something I’m used to.

The door to her dorm building opens for the hundredth time this morning, and my lungs swell in anticipation, only to deflate when, yet again, the person who steps out isn’t the right shade of blond.

I look down at my phone to check the time.

Shit. If I don’t take off now, I’ll be late to the bus, and if Coach has to delay our departure time because of me, that will be a whole different kind of a disaster.

Sighing, I shove to my feet, stuffing my phone in my pocket and hauling my overnight duffel off the grass. With one last glance up at the window that I know is hers, I head in the opposite direction.

The only thing that keeps me from turning back around and sweet-talking my way into the building is the fact that she can’t hide from me forever. I’ve got her entire schedule memorized, know all her favorite places on campus, and I’m not afraid of a little coercion if it comes down to it.

One way or another, we’re going to talk about what Saturday night means.

And I refuse to believe that the answer to that is a resoundingnothing.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

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