Page 21 of The Destined SEAL
I take her small hand in mine right away and look her straight in the eye. “As you wish.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Harper
Nympho Nancy is hauntingour dorm room more than she usually does. It’s only an inconvenience because I’m actually staying here instead of at Marcus’s. Also, my parents are in town. I’d rather they not have too much contact with my sex-fueled roomie lest she spill the beans that I’m never here. I tap the stylus on the edge of my iPad as I stare at her Johnny Depp poster. It’s an old-school version of the man who now dresses like a pirate on hallucinogenic drugs. The scent of weed filters down the hallway and seeps under the doors. It’s graduation week, and rules don’t exist anymore. It’s sort of unfortunate, because I love rules.
Marcus texts me, the message flashing on my iPad app.
I miss you. Can’t you come over after your parents drop you off at your dorm after dinner? I’ll meet you if you don’t want to walk it alone.
I smile as I read his message.
When I returned from San Diego, Marcus took on a new approach to dealing with my weird friendship with Ben. He didn’t care. Better, he didn’t bring it up or even acknowledge it existed. I don’t know what Ben and Marcus’s phoneconversation consisted of, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t curious. I didn’t have the heart to tell him that Ben and I are taking a mild friend break in light of a kiss that changed the world. A kiss that I envision anytime Marcus kisses me for any length of time. It upset me for a while, then I got used to it. Sort of like a hallucinogenic freak in emotional denial. Sighing, I glance back at the poster.
Ben and his kisses will never fade, but his presence in my life will. When we don’t talk constantly or video chat, he kind of fades into the background. Seeing in person how much he changed made me realize I might not be good enough for Benjamin Brahams anymore. Not in the way he was asking for. Ben’s looks and sexual presence dominate everything in the space surrounding him.
In my moment of guilt after the kiss, I also felt self-conscious. I’m still the geek, and Ben has somehow morphed into the man I always knew was inside him. We ran into one of his many admirers at the concert. She was beautiful, and I could tell by the way she looked at him that she’s tasted him in the same way I want to. As much as I try to forget the way that quick, painful moment made me feel, it validates my decision to stick to the safest path. The known quantity. Ben loves me, but I don’t think he’ll ever be in love with me. Not like Marcus is.
Marcus is perfect for me. That one solid fact stands out among everything else. This is a relationship that deserves my time and energy. He’s a man who’ll move across the country to make me happy and help my dreams come true, a man I have so much in common with that silly memories and inside jokes are insignificant. Ben and our lifetime of memories is my past. Marcus is my future. All of it.
I tap back a quick message to Marcus using lots of sickening emojis and bounce off my bed to swing the door open. Pinching my nose, I peer outside my dorm. “Would you go outside? Itstinks!” I call out, my words sounding more like a grandma sucking on helium than an annoyed woman. The hallway is empty and gray—absent of everything except the bright light that filters in from the large window at the end of the corridor. Someone laughs. The volume of the music lifts in response, and I slam our door.
“If you can’t beat ’em, join ’em,” Nancy says, spinning in her computer chair to face me. “You should be more excited. We’re graduating. Let loose a little, Harping Harper.”
I despise that nickname, but literally seconds before, I was harping.
Crossing my arms across my chest, I glare at her. “I’m only staying here until my parents leave. I’m not joining in any of this debauchery. Why would I risk it?” In a way it feels like high school graduation. I’m not even close to being finished. This is the beginning of my college career. This degree is the foundation for everything that follows. “I’m surprised you’re not celebrating,” I say, lifting my chin toward her bed.
“That comes later tonight,” she says, smiling. “After you go to sleep.” Yes. Exactly like high school. “Unless you want to watch? Join in?”
I stoop down to pull my full suitcase from under my bed and rustle around until I find a long black maxi dress that’s suitable for dinner reservations with my parents. My iPad pings with a message as I’m loading my bathroom caddy, and I grin, thinking it’s Marcus returning my last lewd message.
I see Ben’s name instead. Not sure I’ll be able to make it tomorrow. Sorry, Harp. My stomach sinks lower, and a bit of nausea hits me in a rush. We haven’t spoken in a while, but never for one moment did I think he wouldn’t make it. Anger replaces disappointment. He can do a million different dangerous things all across the world, but he can’t make a ceremony that lasts a few hours? I swallow the lump in my throat as my eyes water.
That’s fine, I reply back. Ben doesn’t have his read receipts on, so I have no idea if he’s still by his phone or if he’s already busy. Graduating Harvard is NBD anyway. See you in a few weeks? Marcus and I are moving right away.
Nancy is cackling as she watches stupid videos on her laptop. I have no idea how she’s graduating—how she got accepted here. She’s one of those smart people who don’t have to try. The kind who exist in their intelligence without even giving it a second thought. Ben is like that. It’s why he’s so good at whatever he devotes his life to. It’s full-minded focus. I’m not a part of that focus these days. Ben doesn’t text me back, so I take a shower and take my time doing my hair and makeup.
My mom calls when she’s outside waiting for me. I check my phone as I trot down the stairs to the exit of my red brick building. Ben texted back, and all it says is, I’m so sorry. If I could see him right now, I’d know exactly how sorry he was. The rest of the night is a blur of disappointment and agitated nerves.
Marcus picks me up outside of the quad after I’ve finished dinner. He knows right away that something is off-kilter. It’s a quality you hope for in a mate, someone who can read you without effort.
“I’m fine,” I say, locking my hand with his. We wave at a group of our friends as they pass by.
Gently, he squeezes my hand. “Dinner was that bad, huh?”
The false smile I plastered on my face for my friends fades.
“Nah. I’m kind of nervous for tomorrow. Nothing abnormal.”
“Nothing to do with Ben not being able to be here for you?”
I stop walking.
I’m glad it’s dark so he won’t be able to see the multitude of emotions that are surely trickling across my face. I look at him and narrow my eyes.
He smiles. “He called me to let me know, too.”
