IT’S A LITTLE SURREAL, standing in the backyard and watching our new Kappa Kappa Beta sisters. Well, they’re not quite sisters yet, but they’ve accepted their bids, and I still remember what that feels like. They’ve all changed into swim suits and cover ups, and now they’re taking pictures, throwing up the KKB hand sign and starting friendships that will last long after we leave Palm South.
I can’t believe it’s already been a year since I was in their shoes, and thinking back on everything that’s happened in the last year, I can’t help but smile. It’s been a wild ride, and I know there’s still so much left to come.
“You sure you don’t want to take a Little Sister this semester?” Skyler asks, sidling up next to me and offering me a sip from her Tervis tumbler. We’re not supposed to drink at the KKB house, but the rules are always broken on Bid Day, and I take a long pull before handing it back to her.
“Yeah, I’m sure. My classes are going to be really tough this year and I just want to get my footing before I try to be a mentor for anyone else.”
“That’s fair,” she says, smiling.
She looks tired, eyes outlined by dark circles. I didn’t go to the Omega Chi party last night, but news about what happened made its way across campus by the time I woke up. Skyler was at the O Chi house all night, trying to make sure Clinton was okay, which I’m sure isn’t the case.
“I think it’s smart of you to focus on yourself for a while. Better than ending up like me.”
“What does that mean?” I ask, nudging her. “You’re the most bad-ass person I know.”
She chuckles, running a hand roughly through her hair and twisting it over her shoulder. “A bad ass without a major. I have no idea what I’m doing, Little.”
I frown, rubbing her arm gently. “You’ll figure it out. You’ve got plenty of time.”
She nods, smiling softly, but then a yawn overtakes her. “I can’t believe I’m being this lame, but I’m going to sneak upstairs for a nap. If Erin asks, can you just tell her I’m not feeling well?”
“Don’t worry about her, she’s got plenty to keep her busy,” I say, nodding to where Erin is coordinating a group photo of the new recruits. She wanted the best of the best, and she got them. I’m proud of her, and I know I’m not the only one.
Skyler yawns again, offering me a half wave before ducking inside.
And then someone bumps into me from behind, knocking me off balance.
“Whoa!” A deep voice says, and I know the voice, know it too well, which is probably why my entire body reacts at the feel of two strong hands steadying me. “Sorry about that.”
I spin, his hands still on my waist as I peer up at him. “You’re kidding, right?”
Adam grins, and my stomach twists into a tight sailor’s knot. “Couldn’t help myself. Had to reenact the first time we met.”
“You’re so stupid,” I say with a laugh, pushing two hands into his chest to put distance between us.
He removes his hands from my hips, tucking them into the pockets of his navy blue and white swim trunks, instead. I trace the muscles of his arms, remembering what they looked like without a t-shirt covering them. How has he changed so much over just one summer? It’s like he left Palm South University a boy and came back a man.
I have no idea how to act around him now, not after how last semester ended. We crossed over the feather-light line drawn between friendship and something more, and now I don’t know what to do without its boundaries.
“How are your classes this semester? Full schedule?” he finally asks, pushing his sunglasses up onto his head.
“Yeah, I’m sure you’ll find me in the library most of the year. I have more lab hours than a white rat.”
He chuckles. “Well, before classes take over your life, can I ask you for a favor?”
“Uh-oh.”
Adam takes a step toward me, pulling his hands from his pockets to place them together over his chest in a please gesture. “Just do this one thing for me and I’ll owe you.”
“Spit it out already,” I tease.
“We’re gearing up for the concert, since the one I hosted last year ended up being such a success. But now, it’s year two, and whereas last year no one had any idea of what to expect, this year, they’re going to want bigger and better. I’m working on the lineups and I’ve got the bar covered, but one of the biggest complaints last year was the guys-to-girls ratio. If you haven’t noticed, a lot of the fraternities aren’t exactly a fan of little Alpha Sigma excelling at something.”
I sigh. “That’s so stupid. We’re all a part of the Greek community, why is it always some big competition?”
“I don’t know,” he answers. “But I need your help. I have a reservation in front of the Student Union three days this week to campaign for the concert. I can get the girls,” he says with a cocky smirk. I roll my eyes as he continues. “But I could really use your help with the guys.”
“You realize I’m like the literal last person in the world to depend on for good flirting, right?”
Adam throws his head back with a deep laugh before settling his eyes on mine again. “I beg to differ. You know you’ve got that sweet, innocent, naturally pretty thing down pat. And after that stunt you pulled last year? I know you can rock the hell out of a pair of leather leggings, too.”
I blush, completely unable to swallow as one hand reaches up to twirl a piece of my red hair. “I don’t know… Why don’t you ask Skyler?”
“I don’t want to ask Skyler,” Adam answers easily. I wait for more, but he just stands there, watching me, waiting.
It feels dangerous, accepting his proposal, but I have no idea why. Everything with Adam somehow feels forbidden, even when it’s as innocent as handing out fliers for a concert. Still, the way he’s looking at me, I know this isn’t about the concert. It’s about our friendship — the one we used to have, the one we both thought we’d lost, the one we both can’t live without.
“You owe me, Adam.”
“Yes!” He fist pumps the air, pulling me in for a hug and spinning me around as I continue yelling at him.
“I mean it! You owe me big time. And I’m not wearing leather leggings. Or high heels. And I’m not missing class, either.”
“Just be there as your schedule allows, Red.” Adam sticks out his tongue, dodging my little fists as I attempt to punish him for using the nickname I hate the most.
“Don’t push your luck!”
“Fine, fine,” he says, grabbing my wrists gently to stop the punches. He looks down at me, our chests close together, laughs subsiding as he releases my wrists again. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
He flicks his shades over his eyes after a moment, backing away slowly.
“Oh, and Cassie?” he asks, grin growing wider as he grabs the hem of his t-shirt with both hands.
I follow the motion, eyes stuck for a second before I rip them away. “Don’t you dare.”
“Welcome back to PSU!” He smirks, stripping his shirt over his head and tossing it back at me before sprinting toward the blow-up waterslide, just like he did the first time we met. He rushes down it to a roar of screams from my sisters and I bite back a laugh, watching him all the way to the end. When he shakes the water off his hair at the end and grins back at me, my stomach dips.
I’ve missed him.
I think I already knew it before, but I finally allow myself to admit it. Maybe it doesn’t have to be him or Grayson, maybe we can still be friends. He doesn’t seem fazed by what happened last semester, so why am I overthinking it?
So, I drop the thought, along with Adam’s shirt, and then I peel my own sundress off and take off running. When my stomach hits the slide and I fly down to the end, water spraying and sisters cheering, I decide not to take anything too seriously this semester.
Time to make my second year at PSU even better than the first.
“I don’t like it,” Grayson says the next night after his show. It’s a little past midnight and we both have our first classes in the morning, but neither of us could say goodbye after the show ended, so we popped in a movie at his place. A movie we watched all of two minutes before talking over it, instead.
I lean up on one elbow, looking down at Grayson sprawled out next to me in his sheets that smell like him — coffee and cinnamon. His brows are pinched together, forming a deep line between them that I smooth one thumb over before running it across his bottom lip and kissing him there.
“It’s just handing out fliers,” I assure him.
“Yeah, handing out fliers with a guy who has the hots for you.”
“He does not have the hots for me,” I say with a laugh, though I’m not sure if that’s the absolute truth or not. I know he had feelings last semester, but the way he acted with me yesterday? It felt like old times. “We’re friends, Grayson. We have been since my very first day in KKB. And he’s asking me for a favor. He wouldn’t do that if he didn’t need me.”
Grayson grumbles, but then rolls me until he’s the one on top, sliding his knee between my legs to part them. “Fine,” he says, kissing me with the word. “But enough about him. Let’s talk about this sexy little dress you wore to my show tonight.”
He trails one hand down the side of the sleek fabric where a diamond-shaped cut out lets him feel the skin of my waist. I giggle at the touch, wrapping my arms around his neck as he maneuvers himself until he’s settled between my legs.
“You were amazing, by the way. That crowd was huge for a fancy schmancy restaurant.”
“You know what else is huge,” he says, smirking against my lips as he thrusts his jeans against me. The movement pushes my dress up my thighs, exposing my pink cotton thong.
I swallow hard, heart picking up speed with every kiss Grayson sweeps across my collarbone before sucking my lip between his teeth again. When he grinds into me, the friction catching, I moan into his lips without a single ounce of control.
He groans, rolling into me again and pulling my dress up higher until it rests above my hips. And though I want him so bad it physically hurts, that broken shard Clay shoved deep into my heart last year is still there, and it rubs a sharp pain against my ribs as my breathing grows shallow.
“Wait,” I whisper, pressing my hands into his chest to give us a little space.
Grayson drops his forehead to mine, our breaths mixing in a sweet scent between us as he does exactly what I asked. I don’t know what to say now, or what to do — only that I’m not ready for what he’s ready for. The one and only guy I’ve ever had sex with betrayed me, and I still don’t know how to let that go.
“It’s okay,” he whispers back after a moment, running his thumb along my jawline before cupping my chin up toward him. “We can take it slow. I just want to make you feel good.”
The way he says the words, the way his eyes glow like a rare turquoise in the soft lighting of his bedroom, the way a single strand of his hair hangs down over his forehead — it’s too much. Chills race from where his thumb grazes my skin all the way to my toes, and he notices, smirking at the reaction I can’t help but have to him.
“I want to make you feel good, too.”
“You do,” he answers quickly. “Every time we’re together I feel good, Cassie. And I can wait. Right now, tonight, I want to show you how much it meant to me that you came to my show tonight.”
I smile, leaning up to press my lips to his. Grayson kisses me softly at first, but then one hand trails down my ribs, my hip, down to where my dress is bunched, and when one of his fingers grazes the hem of my panties, I gasp into his mouth.
He kisses me harder, tongue sweeping into my mouth as that same finger slips under the cotton fabric, running the slick line of me.
“Fuck,” he groans, dipping the finger between my lips. “I love this, I love how wet I make you.”
And with that, he pushes not one, but two fingers, all the way inside.
I arch my back, hands flying from where I was grasping his neck to grip the covers instead. Just his fingers alone stretch me, and thoughts of what it would feel like if it was actually him inside me spark another wave of chills.
Grayson works his fingers as he kisses down my neck, biting at the small swell of my breast before nestling between my legs. He pulls his fingers out long enough to strip my panties off and brace my thighs on his shoulders, and then he looks up at me with a wicked grin, and disappears beneath the fabric of my dress.
His hot breath is all I feel at first, and then the rough pad of his tongue as he runs it from my opening to my clit. He sucks when he reaches it, and I arch up off the bed, moaning loud, reaching for a pillow to mute the noise. I pull one over my mouth but Grayson reaches up and throws it across the room.
“I want to hear you when I make you come.”
“Oh, God,” is all I manage before his tongue is on me again, this time aided by the help of his fingers. He slides two of them deep inside me again, working them in a rhythm, his tongue drawing circles and teeth biting with just the right tender pressure to make me squirm beneath the touch.
I lean up on my elbows and look down at him, his auburn hair between my pale white thighs, his hungry eyes gazing back up at me as he brings me closer to ecstasy with his mouth. It’s too much to watch him, so I fall back again, this time reaching down to pull his hair and guide him to the sweet spot.
The first and last guy to go down on me was Clay, and he was a drunken mess after the Halloween party at Ralph’s. I’d faked an orgasm just to get it to end, but I know I won’t have to fake it with Grayson. Not with his tongue moving like that, or his hands touching me like that, or his moans vibrating through me to my very core.
When my breathing is scarce, hands twisted in the sheets, Grayson pushes his fingers in even deeper and wiggles them quickly, hitting my G-spot in rapid fire as his tongue flicks my clit in sync. And that’s the magic combination.
I feel myself pulse around his fingers as the moans leave my lips, his name riding them like waves as they crash into the four walls around us. I can’t see, can’t feel —everything is like a numb, icy, burning fire. He wanted to hear me, and I’m pretty sure his roommates are hearing me, too, but I don’t care — I want him to know exactly what he’s doing to me.
He slows his movements as my breaths even out, kissing my clit softly before climbing up my body to kiss my mouth, instead. I taste myself on him and moan, arching into him.
“Remind me to never miss a show of yours,” I pant into his lips. “Ever.”
He laughs, and then we kiss and talk until my eyelids are too heavy to hold. And when I fall asleep on his chest, his arms wrapped around me tight, I know I’m the luckiest girl at Palm South University.