My cheeks suffuse with heat. He had me thinking he’d really seen me in my panties. Now that I realize he was joking, I’m relieved and disappointed at the same time. Why I’m conflicted, I’m not sure.

Do I want him to see me in my panties? No. Then why does the thought of him secretly watching me make me feel flushed all over? Is it because he’s so stunningly attractive? I’ve seen many good looking guys before and none of them made me feel so out of sorts.

When we’re together I’m off balance, teetering as if any moment my legs could be swept out from under me. He makes me unsure and I despise it. I’ve always been confident in my abilities and my work ethic. Even when it comes to my own looks, I’m satisfied. I don’t need to be beautiful like a model to be happy with my appearance. I’m strong and athletic, and both of those things are more important to me than the color of my hair or whether my hair looks good.

Oh God, does my hair look okay? I barely ran a comb through it after my shower. I run a hand over the top of my head to make sure it’s smooth and hate myself for falling into the vanity trap. Fuck that. I’m a strong, confident woman. Why do I care what a guy thinks?

Ruffling my fingers through the front of my hair I deliberately mess it up, tossing the strands to and fro until I look like I belong in an eighties hair band. And I refuse to fix it. Even though I know I must look ridiculous.

“Are you okay?” Trevor chuckles and I realize my actions probably seem extremely odd to someone watching.

“Yep, I’m good.” I nod, knocking more hair down over my face. Reaching out, he combs his fingers through the tousled strands, gently pushing them back until my face is fully revealed.

“There, much better.” He winks. My stomach peaks and dips in response. “I want to see your face when we’re talking.”

“What if we don’t talk at all?”

“I still want to gaze upon your overwhelming beauty.”

I roll my eyes. “Laying it on a little thick aren’t you?”

“I’m stating a fact.”

“I’m not one of those girls who’s going to fall into your bed.”

“I was thinking more along the lines of bending you over it, but we can work out the details later.” His words infuse my body with a slow ripple of heat moving from the crown of my head all the way down to the tips of my bare toes. Licking my dry lips, I struggle for a comeback. I’m at a loss of what to say to him. My mind is still locked on the thought of him fucking me from behind while I’m head down, ass up on the bed. The vision is so vivid, I can practically feel my fingers clutching the crisp sheets.

“Trevor. There you are.” A busty brunette calls out as she bounces our way with an ultra white smile pasted on her face. Certain parts of her are extremely bouncy. Staring down at my own average sized chest, I suddenly feel inadequate. Dammit. What’s my problem? I spend an hour with Trevor and I start to question everything about my looks. This is another reason why I need to limit my contact with him. He forced my hand tonight, but from here out it should be easy to keep my distance.

Miss Smiley grips Trevor’s arm, pressing her boobs into his bicep. “Where’ve you been hiding? I’ve been looking all over for you.”

“I’ve been right here.”

“I want to spend some time with you.”

“Sandy, I’m in the middle of talking to—”

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine,” I cut in with a tight smile. “Enjoy the rest of your night.” Scampering off, I don’t look back. I make my way to the front door and slip outside as quickly as possible. Pulling out my phone, I text Leah.

Me: I’m leaving. Are you staying?

It only takes about thirty seconds before she answers.

Leah: Wait for me. Be right there.

I head down the brick path and pause on the sidewalk to wait for her. My thoughts wander to Sandy and how she’s the kind of girl Trevor goes for. I’m an oddity to him. Someone to toy with and get into his bed. By the time five minutes has passed I’m fuming and convinced Trevor is having a good laugh at my expense. How dare he toy with me?

I begin pacing to kill time. I want to get out of here before Trevor comes looking for me. Hell, who am I kidding? He’s with Miss Bouncy. He’s not going to waste time on me when he has a sure thing hanging on his arm. By now they’re probably getting it on in one of the bedrooms. Is he bending her over the mattress? My eyes squeeze shut to block out the image. Shit. I don’t want to think about him screwing someone else. And the fact that I care if he is escalates my anger. Why does it matter if he’s screwing a cheerleader? Hell, I shouldn’t care if he takes turns with all of them… but I do. Dammit.

The sound of the door slamming draws my attention and I let loose a sigh of relief when I see Leah strolling toward me.

“You didn’t have to leave because I am.”

“I know, but it’s for the best. Clancy was coming on pretty strong and my resolve was wearing away quickly.”

“He seems intense.”

“He is. Don’t get me wrong, he’s fun to joke with, but guys like him scare me.”

“Why?”

“He’s used to getting what he wants from girls and moving on to the next. I’m not really a ‘move on from’ type of girl. I want a guy to stick around for a while and get to know me as a person. Not just how long it takes me to come.”

I snort at her honesty. “I hear ya.” I hold up my hand and her palm cracks against mine. We begin the walk back to our dorm.

“What’s up with you and Trevor?”

“Nothing. Nothing at all.” I walk faster hoping she’ll let the subject drop.

“Are you sure about that?” No such luck I guess. My head swivels in her direction.

“Absolutely. He’s not someone I’d ever become involved with.”

“Why not? I’ve never known him to be anything but nice.”

“I agree. He’s a decent guy. But he’s also rich, spoiled, entitled, and a playboy. Not my type at all.”

“What is your type?” That’s a difficult question. How do I sum up all that I’m looking for in a man?

“I guess I’d want someone similar to my dad. He’s dependable, funny, hard working, and he shows my mom and me how much he loves us.”

“That’s sweet.”

“He’s great. I think our personalities are similar and that’s why we get along so well.”

“Sometimes opposites attract.” Opposites? I’m not sure you can be more different than Trevor and I are.

“Hmm,” I hum noncommittally.

“Let’s not talk about guys anymore. It stresses me out,” she sighs.

“You won’t hear me arguing.”

“My mom’s been telling me boys are trouble for as long as I can remember.”

“Yeah, mine too.”

“So why can’t we steer clear of them?”

“That’s my plan. I’m here for football and a great education.” This is my only opportunity. I won’t get another chance. I have to stick to my plan and remain focused on what matters.

“Right. Me too. And I’ve met two amazing friends, you and Amelia. What else could I ask for?”

“A bigger bed with a more comfortable mattress?” I joke.

“Oh tell me about it. It’s like sleeping on a concrete slab. My back has been killing me since I moved in. I’m only twenty-one and I’m pretty sure I need to see a chiropractor.”

“Dad, what do you want me to do with the list of supplies we need to order?” I peek my head out of the storage room to find him in his office across the hall. When he doesn’t answer I close the distance between us and sink onto one of the chairs in front of his desk. Studying him for a moment, I notice the frown twisting his mouth and the dark circles under his eyes. “Dad, what’s going on?”

“Nothing you need to worry about.” I’ve never seen him look so worried. My dad wears a perpetual grin - unless something’s on his mind. And now, he doesn’t even look like himself.

“Dad, I’m an adult. I’m old enough to know what’s got you concerned.”

“Business has been slow for the past six months and it’s beginning to be a problem. I need to figure out a way to improve our bottom line or we’re going to have to close down.”

“This isn’t the first time we’ve hit a rough patch. We’ll make it through, we always do.” I try to remain upbeat despite being awash in disappointment. I love this place, and the fact that my parents started it when my dad was only twenty-five. They’ve been running it for thirty years, but sometimes it feels like such a burden to bear. “I know we’ve made it through tough times before, but this might be worse than a patch.”

“What will you do if we don’t have this place anymore?”

He shakes his head. “I’ve never been one for plan B’s, but maybe I should have been. Don’t worry, honey. Your mother and I will figure something out.”

“I’ll see what I can come up with too. I’m not some helpless teenager. Maybe I can help you with ideas to improve business.”

“The thing is, we’ve had an offer on the place and it might be time to consider selling.”

“Dad,” I gasp. “How can you think of selling?”

“Grace, for the right amount of money it might be worth it.”

“And did they offer you what you’d want?”

“No, but we could negotiate for more.”

“I know money makes things easier, but it’s not the most important thing.”

“You’re right, it’s not. I’ve always told you that, but it would be great not having to worry about it. Having a sizeable nest egg in the bank would be a nice change.” I agree with that point. Having a cushion would be a great feeling, and one I’m not used to. I was raised with my parents always making ends meet, but sometimes money was really tight and they never had a problem with letting me know. There were many instances where I didn’t get the clothes I wanted or the name brand shoes my friends were all wearing.

I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, I’m certainly not. There are worse things than not having popular brand items. My stomach was always full and we had a roof over our heads. I just wish my parents had sheltered me a little more about the times we did struggle. There was no reason for me to worry. That was their job, not mine. And yet, here we are again with me consoling my dad.

Rising to my feet, I lean forward placing my palms on his desk. “Dad, I’m not going to let you give up. We can overcome this. Where’s the man who taught me to fight until you can’t fight any more?”

He smiles. “I’m still here, honey. You caught me at a bad time. I’m just wallowing for a little bit. I’ll come back swinging tomorrow.”

“You better.” I raise my brow. “Or I’ll give you the kick in the ass you need.”

He laughs. “I bet you would. Now get out of here and go do something fun with your friends. I’m about to leave anyway.”

The train ride back to school from Somerville gives me time to think about what my dad shared with me. I had no idea Davis Square Cafe was struggling. I haven’t noticed business declining, but since classes started I’m only there on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays from six a.m. to two p.m. We open earlier than most places and close right after the lunch rush. I wonder if extending our hours could help? Maybe we need to be open for dinner or late night hours. There are college students who are always looking for late night eats. I’ll have to talk to my dad about it.

I was hoping I’d be able to find another job working someplace besides the cafe. I’ve been waitressing since I was fifteen years old. Meeting new people and doing something different really appeals to me, but duty calls. And when it does, you do what you must.

I rise to my feet at my designated T stop and step out onto the platform. The mid September air is thick with humidity and moisture beads on my forehead as I trudge along the cracked sidewalk. Glancing around, I take in all the life around me. So many cultures packed into one area, it’s usually so inspiring for me. I like to window shop, or sit out at one of the outdoor cafes and people watch. But right now it’s difficult to feel optimistic about anything, and all I want to do is get back to my dorm and go to sleep.

Knowing my dad has been shouldering so much worry on his own makes me sad. I’m not a little girl and I want my parents to be able to count on me to be there for them. I’ll do whatever it takes to help them resolve this. Even if it means leaving school and finding a full-time job.