“AND THAT’S WHY I’M PROUD to announce that the newest president of Alpha Sigma by an overwhelming vote is Adam Brooks.”
The chapter room erupts in cheers, Jeremy going especially wild and hooting loudly over everyone as I stand and make my way to the front of the room. It feels like I’m walking in slow motion, trying to take it all in and feeling like it’s impossible to do.
Ever since I rushed Alpha Sigma, I’ve been busting my ass to make us a top fraternity on campus again. We once were, especially in the 90s, but we fell off along the way. It hasn’t been easy and the job is far from done, but now, I’ll have more resources to make the difference I want to make. I finally let myself smile, wishing my grandfather could be here to see me. I’m doing it. I’m making something of my organization, of myself.
Clay forces a smile as he shakes my hand. I know he hates this, passing the crown to me, but in a way I think he saw it coming. He had to. He’s graduating in just a few short weeks, so it really shouldn’t bother him, but it does. I grin smugly, pulling him in to clap him on the back as the cheers continue. I hold him there a moment, squeezing his hand tighter than necessary.
“If you ever so much as fucking look at Cassie McBee again, you’ll need reconstructive surgery to get back that fake ass smile of yours. Understand?”
Clay is normally cocky, but I catch the swallow he forces down as he pulls away. He doesn’t meet my eyes, just motions toward me with both hands and a smile facing our brothers, making the room go crazy once more. Something tells me I won’t have to warn him twice.
After a short speech and photo of me along with the new executive board, my brothers disperse, slipping back into finals mode as we all prepare for the end of the semester. I should feel elated, I should want to go get celebratory drinks, I should be making calls—but there’s only one person I want to talk to right now. One person I need to talk to.
Pulling my phone from my pocket, I type out a quick text to Cassie, praying she’ll actually respond. We’ve barely talked since Spring Break. I came back on such a high, which makes no sense because all I had done was complicate whatever relationship we have further. We kissed, it was amazing, but what does that really mean? Apparently, to her—nothing. She was back in Grayson’s arms as soon as we returned. I wondered why she wasn’t returning my calls, but Family Weekend answered that question for me. I may not deserve to know what that night meant to her, but I have to ask anyway.
My phone pings with a text from her saying she’s at the KKB house and to come to the back kitchen door. Steeling myself, I tuck my phone back in my pocket and start the walk down Greek Row, words I want to say scrolling through my mind like movie credits the entire time. But when I knock softly on the back door and she lets me in, her soft red curls pulled in a low ponytail over her shoulder and her legs exposed in a tiny pair of plaid sleep shorts, everything I planned to say leaves me instantly—like a candle flame snuffed out by a lid.
“Congrats,” she says first with a genuine grin before pulling me in for a hug, like she hasn’t been ignoring me for weeks. I’m almost too shocked to hug her back, but slowly, my arms wrap around her and I hold her tight against me, inhaling the tropical scent from her hair. She always smells like paradise.
“News travels fast.”
She giggles, pulling back and crossing her arms over her chest, framing the small bit of cleavage exposed by her tank top. “Come on, how long have you been at PSU? You know better than I do.”
“True story.”
“Well, I wish we could have a shot to celebrate, but, you know, house rules and all.” She points a thumb over her shoulder. “Want a root beer?”
I laugh. “Do you have a root beer?”
Cassie rolls her eyes as if it’s obvious. “Of course. It’s my favorite drink.”
“Interesting. Well in that case, make it a double.” I like that it’s easy between us right now, especially after the tension during Family Weekend. Still, I’m not just going to slip back into the friend zone. I have to talk to her about what happened.
She chuckles, arms still crossed until she reaches the refrigerator. Pulling out two tall glasses and filling them to the top with the foamy dark liquid, she slides one down the counter to me as she lifts the other to her own lips. The bubbles stick at the corners of her mouth for just a moment before she licks them away.
“I forgot how much I love root beer,” I say, taking a sip myself.
Her eyebrows shoot up and she points at me over her glass. “See? You’re welcome.”
As our smiles settle, I grip the glass a little tighter. “I didn’t come here to celebrate.”
“I figured,” she responds, eyes on her own hands. “Listen, I get it. It was Spring Break, we were both drinking. It’s all good.”
I cock a brow, setting my glass down on the kitchen island. It’s Sunday night and the house is mostly quiet, save for the faint sound of giggling coming from the rooms upstairs.
“It wasn’t a mistake, Cassie. It wasn’t an accident or a drunken decision. Ever since I kissed you at the concert last semester, I’ve wanted to do it again.”
She wants me to apologize for the kiss. She thinks I regret it. I don’t.
“How can you say that?” she asks, green eyes wide. “You were with Skyler.”
“I know, I know.” I pinch the bridge of my nose, not really knowing how to explain what I need to. “It’s not that I didn’t care for her—that I don’t still care for her. But I also care about you. And that night on the beach, it was like the biggest moment of clarity for me.”
Cassie drops her glass to the counter and brings her fingernails to her teeth, nibbling, eyes on the tile floor.
“You can’t do this, Adam. I mean, what are you even asking me?” Her voice is shaky when she finally speaks.
“I don’t know.” I sigh, knowing none of this is coming out right. But what do I really expect? I was dating her Big Sister just a few short weeks ago and now, what? I’m going to ask her to be with me? “I guess I’m just saying that I get what you said at the Fratalina Wine Mixer now.” I shrug, lifting my eyes to hers. “You confuse me, too.”
“I’m with Grayson.”
She says those three words like they won’t puncture my lungs, stealing my breath. “Let me take you to formal. Please. Give me . . . I don’t know, give me one night.”
“One night for what?” She stands straighter, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Didn’t you hear me? I’m with Grayson. He’s taking me to formal.”
I wince, inching toward her. She’s basically telling me to eat shit and die but I can’t let it go. Grabbing the crook of her elbow, I force her to look at me, hoping my eyes will be able to say what my words can’t. “Shit, Cassie. Did it mean nothing to you? Was this all one-sided?”
She chews the inside of her cheek and I can see her debating whether she should tell me the truth or not. I already know it meant something to her, too, but I need to hear it. I don’t want the lies between us anymore, the secrets, the hidden thoughts. I want it all on the table. I want her exposed.
“It doesn’t matter. You just broke up with Skyler because you knew you were going to get president. You weren’t going to have time for her, so what makes you think you’ll have time for me?”
I open my mouth to respond, but snap it shut again. I don’t have an answer for that. And as I’m trying my damndest to find one, someone rounds the corner into the kitchen.
“Where’s my beautiful redhead?”
I drop Cassie’s arm and grab my glass, quickly lifting it to my lips and keeping my eyes on her as she gazes behind me at Grayson. For a moment she just stares at him, but then slowly, she forces a smile. “Hi. I didn’t know you were coming over.”
“Clearly,” he snaps and I grit my teeth. This isn’t good. “Brooks.” He says my name as a greeting and a threat all at the same time.
Turning in place, I tilt my glass toward him and take another drink. I don’t feel like pretending to give a shit that he’s here.
He runs a hand over his beard and looks to Cassie once more. “Can we talk?”
She nods, eyes flicking to me quickly before following him out of the kitchen. I think this is where I’m supposed to leave. Or apologize. Or do anything but what I’m actually doing, which is leaning up against the kitchen counter, straining my ears to hear their conversation in the next room.
It’s all muffled voices, but every now and then Grayson’s voice will boom out loud enough for me to hear. Mostly, when he’s saying my name.
This isn’t good.
Sighing, I dump the remains of my glass down the drain and flatten my palms on the counter, eyes closed. She wants him. She doesn’t want me. Do I even have a right to be upset about that? I’ve been with Skyler all this time, not realizing that I wanted Cassie, too. Or did I realize it and just ignore it? I’m not sure. It’s not fair for me to ask her for anything now, not when she’s right about my time. And even if I did have the time, do I deserve hers?
“Can you even deny it?! Look me in the eyes right now and tell me you feel nothing for him.” Grayson’s voice echoes into the kitchen and I’m sure I’m not the only one in the house who hears him. I strain my ears for her answer, but hear nothing until the front door slams.
Shit.
After a moment, Cassie shuffles back into the kitchen, the skin under her eyes red and puffy. Seeing her like that breaks me.
“Cassie,” I breathe her name, crossing the room in two full strides to pull her into me. But the moment my hands find her waist, she shrugs away like I’m a flame set to burn her. She crosses her arms tight over her middle, shielding herself from me—the threat, the danger, the problem.
“You need to go.”
My chest deflates. “Just—”
“Adam.” She cuts me off, her voice loud but laced with uncertainty. “You need to go.”
Everything in me screams for me not to leave, to force her to talk to me, but I’ve pushed her enough this semester. I didn’t realize the pain I was putting her through, and now that it’s all come to the surface, it’s all I can do to not kick my own ass. I may want to hold her right now, but it’s not what she wants. It’s time to let me be the one who hurts if it means she gets what she needs.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, as if it’s enough, as if I really know what I’m apologizing for. Am I sorry I kissed her? Hell no. Am I sorry she’s hurt right now? That I’m part of the reason? An ache in my chest answers that question for me.
I pause when my hand is on the back doorknob, words still left unsaid, but I push them back down and force myself forward through the door.
It’s not the first time I’ve left her without saying everything I wanted to, but it’s the first time I’ve worried I may never get the chance again.