The limo driver opens the door to let Karen in the back. She squeals and says, “Gavin, this has been so much fun.” She crawls in, making no effort to hide the hot-pink panties that flash me from under her short skirt.
All it does to me, however, is make me miss Baylor. She was supposed to be with me tonight, using the package deal I surprised her with a week ago on our last night of spring break. It included a limo ride, dinner at a top-notch restaurant and concert tickets to top it off. But at the last minute, Bay had to cancel. Apparently her grades have slipped, thanks to all the time we’ve spent together. Her journalism professor offered her extra credit that would all but guarantee earning her A back, but it required her to attend an event that happened tonight—the same night as the concert.
She felt guilty as hell about canceling and I, in turn, felt guilty that I was the cause of her slipping grades, so of course I had no choice but to be understanding. She told me to go ahead without her and take one of my friends.
Karen was more than willing to be a last-minute fill in. And as the limo takes us home after a fun night, I realize how great of a time I had with her. We talked and reminisced and joked around just like we used to when we were kids. I knew there was a warm, caring person in there somewhere beneath the pretentious sorority-girl façade. I guess it just took taking her away from her friends to get it to come back out.
“Oh, my God, the band was soooo good,” she gushes. “I’ve never seen such a great live show.”
“They were pretty badass,” I agree. “I’m glad I could still use the tickets. Thanks for coming with me.”
“You know I’m here for you, Gav,” she says. “Anytime you need me, I’m here.”
I lean over and place a kiss on the side of her head, right in her hair. “Me, too,” I say. “I know I haven’t been available a lot lately, but I’m here if you need me.”
She smiles brightly. Karen has been better about my relationship with Baylor. We don’t all hang out together or anything. In fact, I’m not sure they’ve even seen each other since the night of the TriDelt party. But Karen no longer makes digs at her and that I appreciate.
“Oh, hey,” I say, “I meant to tell you, I talked to Chris a few weeks ago. He said he’s not dating anyone. So tell your friend to go for it.”
I think I see the hint of a smirk flash across her face. She shakes her head. “Huh uh,” she says. “I’ve gotten very reliable intel that he’s taken and is not willing to stray. Jaylen from the house is in his Civics class. She talked to him a few times and he was pretty adamant about it.”
“Hmmm,” I say. “Well, someone’s not getting the facts straight.”
Karen shrugs it off and takes another pull from her glass of complimentary champagne. I silently stare out the window and wonder who Chris was lying to, me or Karen’s friend. And then I wonder why.
When Baylor comes around the corner for our morning run, my heart stops. She still takes my fucking breath away every time I see her. It doesn’t matter what she’s doing or how she looks, my lungs deflate every damn time. Then the air re-enters my body when she comes closer to me as if she’s breathing life into me. In a way, she is. I’ve never felt so alive before. I can’t wait to be done with school. I want the next few years to fly by. I’ve decided that we should get married right quick after she graduates. I want her to be with me forever. I need her to be with me. I feel like there isn’t even a choice about it. I may have decided that on our first date. Hell, I may have even decided that the night we went to the coffee shop after the football game.
She jogs over to me with a face-splitting smile. The smile that could light up a room in a blackout. Her whole face gets involved—all the way down to the dimple in her right cheek and the wrinkle of her nose. Her eyes, which are brown today, reflecting the chocolate-colored tank top she’s wearing, are practically glowing and it makes me feel like King-fucking-Kong knowing that seeing me makes her react this way.
My legs involuntarily propel my body closer to hers as if I’m the moth to her flame. That’s exactly what she is, though. A big damn flame that could burn the shit out of me. I wonder if she has even the slightest clue of the power she holds over me.
We slam together, our eyes devouring each other and our lips meeting as if we haven’t laid eyes on each other for months instead of merely since yesterday’s Film Studies class.
My dick starts getting hard. It’s not a predicament I want to be in, given I’m wearing paper-thin gym shorts. I force myself to break the kiss. I try to think about how bad Jonesy stunk up the house this morning, courtesy of the Indian food he ate last night.
Yup, that did the trick.
“Miss me, McBride?” she asks.
“No,” I say.
“Liar,” she says.
“Yes,” I reply.
Always the same thing. This is us. Baylor and Gavin. I don’t give a shit that my roommates think I’m a pussy-whipped pole cat. If anyone had even a clue as to how we are together, what kind of connection we have, they still might only begin to understand. Hell, I’m not even sure I fully understand it myself. All I know is that whatever this is—I want more. I’m an addict and Baylor is my crack.
We finish up our three miles before we have any meaningful conversation.
“How did your extra credit project turn out?” I ask, when we slow to our cool-down pace.
She smiles over at me. “It was okay. I’ve never been to a political debate before and now that I have, I can honestly say I’ll probably never go to another. However, I learned a lot, and I even got to interview one of the candidates. I was up until two in the morning doing the write-up, but I think I did a good job. It’ll all be worth it if I get my A back.” She stops jogging and walks around on the grass next to her dorm. She sighs and looks over at me with a guilty crinkle in her nose. “I’m so sorry I ruined the special night you had planned.”
I shake my head at her. “Baylor, your grades are more important than a night on the town.”
“I know. But it was really romantic what you planned and I’m just . . . well, I’m just really sorry,” she says again. “I hope you had fun anyway. Who did you end up taking?”
“Karen went with me,” I say. “The band was decent but the meal had nothin’ on Joe’s.” I hope the mention of our favorite burger place being better than the 5-star restaurant Karen and I went to will ease her guilt slightly.
Baylor stops walking and looks at me in a way I’ve never seen. She chews the inside of her cheek while she gives me a hard stare, then she lets out a huff.
I realize I’m quite possibly seeing jealous Baylor for the first time. I can just barely hold in the laugh percolating up out of my gut. Right before it bursts out of me, her hands ball into fists and she bites, “Are you kidding me?”
Oh, crap! This isn’t jealous Baylor. This is pissed-as-shit Baylor.
She walks in a circle, pacing around a small row of shrubs by a bench out in front of her building. “Did you have fun on your romantic date with her?” she spits out.
I’m at a loss. I don’t yet know how to handle pissed-off Baylor. Part of me wants to laugh. Part of me wants to put my tail between my legs and beg for mercy. Part of me wants to throw her down and fuck her. “Are you mad at me?” I ask.
In hindsight I realize it was a stupid question.
“Yes, Captain-fucking-obvious, I’m mad at you!” she yells, drawing attention to us from a couple of students walking by.
I shrug at the students and then turn back to Baylor, stunned that she used harsh language. I calmly say, “You are the one who cancelled, Baylor. You told me I should take one of my friends.”
“A friend, Gavin,” she says. “Not another girl. I didn’t think I needed to be that specific. I mean, I never thought you’d be so cruel as to take another girl on our romantic date.”
“She’s not another girl,” I say. Then I roll my eyes. “Well, you know what I mean. She’s just a friend.”
“A friend who wants in your pants,” she says too loudly, and a guy walking by laughs.
“Mind your own fucking business,” I spew at him as he scurries away. I realize in this instant that I’m pretty pissed-off myself. Why wouldn’t she trust me with Karen? She knows I see her on a regular basis, why all of a sudden is she mad at me for hanging out with her? Maybe my friends are right—she’s got me by the balls. Nobody gets me by the balls, not even the girl I love.
“You really want to go there?” I ask. “How about you and Chris? I know you spend time together and he’s your ex for Christ’s sake. He’s had his mouth on your mouth. He’s had his goddamn hands on your body!”
“He doesn’t want me like she wants you, Gavin,” she says. “Not anymore.”
“The fuck he doesn’t,” I say, pacing around the bench now myself. “Come on, Bay. It’s so damn obvious how he feels about you. How can you not see that?”
She shakes her head at me. “You’re wrong. He only sees me as a friend.”
“Whatever,” I huff. “But it seems to me you’re nothing more than the goddamn pot calling the kettle black, darlin’.”
“Fuck you, Gavin,” she yells, as she turns to walk away. “And don’t call me darlin’!”
I grab her arm. She tries to yank it out of my grip, but I hold tight. “Why haven’t you told him about us?”
“What are you talking about?” she asks angrily. “I talk about you every time I’m with him.”
“Right,” I say. “That’s why when I saw him a few weeks ago and told him I was in love with you, he turned white as a fucking ghost.”
“You told him that?” She looks appalled.
“Yeah, I told him that,” I say, still holding her in my grip. “The question is—why didn’t you?”
“Gavin, let go of me,” she says. “You’re turning this around on me. Why are you doing that? Is there something you’re not telling me? Did something happen last night?”
I drop her arm like it has burned me. I’m so goddamn pissed that she’s accusing me of shit while she stands here and deflects my question.
Before I can stop myself, I say, “What do you want to hear? That I kissed her? That I touched her while shoving my tongue down her throat? Would that make us even—both having friends that we’ve fucked around with?”
Shit! Before the words are even out, I regret saying them. I can’t believe she got me so worked up that I’m perpetuating this fight.
“Go to hell, Gavin,” she yells, running up the steps to her dorm. She turns around but doesn’t look me in the eye. “Don’t follow me. Just leave.”
“No problem,” I say, adding, “darlin’,” just to piss her off.
It worked. She turns around and flips me her middle finger before disappearing into the building.
“Dude, that’s harsh,” I hear from a guy passing by.
I flip him off and listen to him laugh at me as I walk away.