Page 202 of Love Me in the Dark
Baron
Asticky neon blue ball clung to the ceiling above me, a remnant of a night spent partying and a decision to “toss it up there. See how long it would stay.”
That was seven months ago, Before Skylar, and it was still there, testament to the lasting power of rubber and whatever gravity-defying bond existed between it and latex paint.
The balls were Ezra’s, some stress reliever things he’d found online. He was forever squishing the little things between his big fingers or tossing them up and down while he pondered some math problem.
Me? I napped, or tried to, as I was trying unsuccessfully to do now. I also read psychology texts when my brain wouldn’t shut off.
I’d been doing a lot of that lately.
Psychology had been an unexpected surprise upon my arrival at Chandler U. Always an athlete, I had thrown myself into sports and prepared to slog my way through the necessarycoursework to stay part of the teams I enjoyed competing on. I had discovered, though, that I actually liked learning about the human brain and psyche…about why people do the things they do and how we have the power to rewire trauma-bound consciousness if we desire to do so.
I kept that sort of thing mostly to myself, though. Somehow, I didn’t think the guys would appreciate knowing I was busy psychoanalyzing them and their attachment styles all the time. Ezra was the most well-adjusted out of all of us—he had clearly been raised by a set of loving parents who paid attention to his needs.
Or at least, one loving parent. His mother had died at birth, but his dad was pretty cool.
Gale was a classic dismissive avoidant, though, pulling the women in and then pushing them away whenever any of them showed signs of wanting to get closer. I couldn’t blame him, not after a childhood spent mostly in foster care.
I was avoidant, myself, the product of benignly neglectful parents. After recognizing the signs in myself, though, I had been doing the work to move toward a more secure attachment style.
No one wanted to be alone forever, after all. I had no desire to be tied down at the moment, but I could see myself with a woman, one day. Kids running around all over the place, crashing into furniture and creating chaos. And Uncle Gale and Uncle Ezra, of course. Those dudes would always be part of my family, regardless of what it looked like.
My eyes drifted closed, blotting out the ball stuck to the ceiling. I still couldn’t believe Skylar had dumped me. It wasn’t that I cared, exactly. Sky was a bitch. It was more that it just…didn’t happen. Not to me.
Without being arrogant about it, I was a catch. Wealthy, intelligent, an athlete, energy for multiple rounds…I was the complete fucking package.
Skylar being the one to exit first was a puzzle, and I didn’t like puzzles.
I suspected it had something to do with her finally catching on to the fact that I couldn’t care less about the money my parents funneled into my account each month. If she was looking at me as a meal ticket, she was destined for disappointment.
The door to the quad opened and closed, Ezra breezing in with a tuneless whistle accompanied by hallway noise. He looked like he’d been working out, his longish dirty blond hair a bit damp at the roots and the sweatshirt he was wearing rimmed with sweat. Probably that yoga shit. Ezra was pure granola, and for some reason, the females ate it up.
He stopped when he noticed me stretched out on the sofa. “Hey, man, whaddup?”
I cracked an eyelid and grunted.
He picked my shoe up from the floor and threw it at me. “Profound. We going to Sugar Babes later? There’s a new girl on staff; very cute.” He made an exaggerated scoop gesture with his hands to indicate all the cuteness was in the tit region, and I snorted. Ezra might be granola but he had a thing for tits.
Sugar Babes was a restaurant just off campus—a breastaurant, really—that was more bar than food service and staffed by waitresses who dressed in sexy schoolgirl, cheerleader, athlete, or hot professor costuming. The theme was classic campus, with different areas cleverly mimicking different regions of a college campus—the library, a classroom, a sports arena, and so forth.
One of Ezra’s friends was a manager there, which accounted for how he knew of fresh staff.
“Why would I ever turn down Sugar Babes? Gale coming?” A yawn split my face, and I sat up, knowing any attempt at an afternoon nap was over. When Ezra had something on his mind, he was relentless.
“I’m sure he will. Did you see this?”
“See what?”
Ezra plopped himself on the couch beside me and tipped his phone so I could see the screen. An app illuminated a screen with a logo composed of lined notepaper filled with scribbled words superimposed over a heart and masculine-looking glasses.
The words “Dear Casanova” headered the page.
“Uh…no. What is it, an advice column or something?”
“Yeah, for Chandler U. Get a load of this one.Dear Casanova. I had sex with this guy the first time we went out, and now he’s not returning my text messages. I don’t understand what is happening here. Help.”
I blinked. “Oh, shit.”
