Read Crushed (Rushed #2) Online

Authors: Gina Robinson

Crushed (Rushed #2) (31 page)

BOOK: Crushed (Rushed #2)
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I shook my head and frowned. "No idea. Probably no one. I'm not crushing on anyone right now." Despite everything, I only wanted Dakota. Hearts could be traitorous like that.

She shook her head back at me and tsked. "Shame on you, party girl Morgs. You can't let the house down. We're counting on you to bring in some hot guys and liven things up."

We held the crush every year a few weeks before Valentine's Day. The idea of it was simple. We held a big dance party. Each girl invited three or four guys they thought were hot and might be interested in. Crushes. So the party would end up guy intensive and heavy with possibilities for everyone. Lots of choices. All the girls in demand for every dance.
 

And yes, there was always drama. You didn't have to stick with your own crushes. You could hit on or get hit on by anyone's. Poaching was totally allowed. Which led to some hard feelings at times when someone's special crush hooked up with a different girl. But the point was to up everyone's odds of finding a Valentine before the fact. And you just had to live with the risk of your crush finding someone else. Wasn't that the way it was, anyway?
 

We walked into the lobby of the courthouse and went to the reception desk. The lady there directed us to a window on the second floor, where we stood in line and claimed my license.

I'd just stuffed my license in its rightful place in my purse as we came down the stairs and headed for the exit. Dakota strode in through the lobby doors, blocking our way out. He froze when he saw us. There was no way to avoid him. We had to walk past him.

My heart seized up so hard it hurt, a tightly wound knot of emotions.

He looked as surprised to see me as I was to see him. Though, really, of course we would both be here today. But at the same time? What were the odds of that?

"Morgan?" He looked at me like he couldn't decide if I was a clone or something. Maybe a mirage.

He looked hot and hopeful. Eager and tentative in a way that cracked the ice I felt toward him. His eyes lit up at the sight of me.
 

I would have had to have a heart of solid stone not to be touched. "Dakota."

"Picked up your license already?" His tone was too casual, like he was trying too hard to be calm and collected.

My hands shook. I grabbed the strap of my purse to hide the trembling of my nerves, and nodded, feeling guilty.
 

His Adam's apple bobbed as he leaned in and whispered to me. "We made it."

It was like an inside joke between us. There had been so many times we almost screwed up. If not for him… Well, it had never been a foregone conclusion. I thought of him driving through the snow for me and getting stopped at the roadblock. Of the huge risk he'd taken for me. Now that I was calmer, and faced with the real him instead of the humiliation of standing in front of my sisters at the house while a girl called my boyfriend a cheater, I saw things more clearly. I smiled shakily back at him. Wanting. Hoping. Afraid.

"I guess this negates our sobriety buddy deal," he said. "Our vows were until we turned twenty-one."

My throat closed up. I nodded. "Yeah. You don't need me anymore." Why was my heart breaking again? Why was my pulse racing like I'd been too proud and too hasty? Like I should have trusted him instead of that screaming bitch Jordan?
 

"I'll always need you." His voice was soft. His eyes pleaded with me to understand.
 

Victoria and Brett had backed off and faded into the background. My heart was cracking. I felt about ready to shatter.

Dakota's breath was warm in my ear. "You were never my cover girlfriend." He kissed my cheek. "Happy birthday, Morgan."

I got a whiff of his cologne, which brought back so many memories of being in his arms. I wanted to throw myself in them now and hold him close.

He stepped back and stuffed his hands in his pockets. "They finally scheduled the victims' panel I'm supposed to attend. It's this Friday. There's probably still time to get on it if you want to." His smile was sad and seductive at the same time. "I deserve everything you can throw at me. Figuratively, of course. I don't think actually throwing physical items is allowed."

How could he keep breaking my heart like this?

"I'll text you the details." He pulled his phone out and began typing. "There."

My phone buzzed in my pocket.

"Now you have plenty of time to think up all the ways you want to berate me for ruining your life and trying to kill you."

"No." I put my hand on his arm. "Why would I lie? You didn't ruin my life. I think you saved me from myself. If you hadn't nearly run over me, I would have continued wanting the wrong things in life. The wrong guy." My words startled me as much as they appeared to surprise him.

But they were true. I cleared my throat. I was on the edge of losing the little composure I was clinging to so desperately. "You pick up your license at the window on the second floor." I nodded to Victoria. "Let's go."

Dakota stepped out of my way.
 

"Good luck," I said as we walked past him.

Dakota

Stupid little things gave me hope. Like Morgan telling me I'd saved her life. Like not showing up on the victims' panel. Like getting an invitation to the Double Deltsie crush the day after I saw her at the courthouse.

The invitation was pinned to my door while I was out. As was tradition, it was anonymous. You weren't supposed to know which girl in the house was crushing on you. Which was why it was done the old-fashioned way, on paper.
 

It was no use grilling the guys to see if anyone had seen it being delivered. The girl doing the crushing wouldn't have been the one who came to the house to deliver it. A sister of hers would have done it. The whole thing was top secret.

My heart beat out of control. I was hoping this was Morgan's way of making up. Hoping she was crushing. I was being a stupid fool in love. I got the lavalier out of the drawer in my desk and opened the box.

The gold letters sparkled in the light of my lamp. Shit. A plan formed in my mind. A bold, outrageous plan. I could end up looking like such a fool. Be humiliated before the entire Double Deltsie house. But nothing ventured, nothing gained.
 

I texted Kelly that I needed to see her about house business.

Morgan

The Wednesday of our annual crush, a pink rose in a bud vase appeared on the table in the entryway. The table where all flower deliveries were made. There was no card with the flower, and no explanation.

Speculation, however, ran high. A pink rose in a bud vase meant one of several things—a lavaliering or a pinning. Or even an engagement. Optimism thrummed in the air as half a dozen girls who had serious boyfriends in frats hoped they were going to be the lucky one.
 

Lavaliering and pinning requirements and ceremonies varied by sorority. Some required foreknowledge by the girl who was going to be the subject of the ceremony. In the Double Deltsie house, the guy could ask for a surprise ceremony.

Attendance at dinner that night was pretty much mandatory. We were instructed to dress up for the occasion, which was normal for dress dinner night, anyway. Whoever the girl was, she was spectacularly lucky. Her guy was a romantic to the core. It was clear he meant to be the best crush of the evening and make it into a lavaliering or pinning celebration.

The thing about pinning and lavaliering was that sometimes the girl knew for sure and was expecting it. Sometimes she knew it was going to happen, but not when. And sometimes it was a total surprise. Though usually the guy had to be pretty sure of a girl's desire before he went out with such a public declaration. You don't declare a girl is more important than your frat brothers just to have her publicly diss you by turning you down.

We were all excited and supremely curious as we dressed for dinner and did our makeup with special care. Whoever the lucky girl was, she was, remarkably, keeping things under wraps. Or she was simply in the dark. If I had to bet, that was what I would put my money on.
 

When we filed in for dinner, the tables were set for a formal dinner. The rose sat in the middle of the head table where the sorority officers were seated, along with a candle.

The house was filled with nervous anticipation as we nibbled our way through dinner.
 

When the dishes were cleared, Kelly called for order. "I have an announcement to make." She pointed to the pink rose in the bud vase before her. "As you can all see, tonight one of us is going to make one of our Greek brothers very happy. We hope."

We laughed, full of nerves and excitement.

"Lavaliering, pinning, and engagement ceremonies are special and solemn occasions. We respect our letters, as do our Greek brothers. To make a public declaration that you are putting a girl above your letters and your fraternity brothers is a serious statement to make." She stood up. "Would everyone please form a circle around the room for our ceremony."

While we formed a circle around the dining room, Kelly explained the ceremony for the new girls among us. "Our house tradition is to pass a candle around from girl to girl while I read a letter from the guy to the sister being honored tonight. Once around the room means we're having a lavaliering ceremony. Twice means a pinning. And three times means a proposal of marriage."
 

Sarah, one of our freshmen, was next to me. She was practically bouncing with pleasure at the thought of her first ceremony.

"The candle will stop at the girl who is being so honored tonight. The other part of the tradition is that the guy has written the girl a love letter for the house president to read to the house while the candle is passed. The letter is full of clues, and expresses his deepest feelings for her. The hope is that the girl will realize who she is by the time the candle stops at her."

Kelly picked up a match. "This is a surprise for the girl being honored tonight. It's doubly special because she invited her crush here, and tonight he shows his passionate commitment to her."

That took me out. Not that I expected to be lavaliered, pinned, or engaged. But I was supposed to have been the next girl in the house to be lavaliered. On my birthday. I tried to push my disappointment aside and be happy for my sister, whoever she was.

The ceremony started with Kelly reading a statement about the meaning of our house letters and his.

He's a Tau Psi.
My heart stopped beating for a second. The guy was a Tau Psi. Like Dakota.

Who here was seriously dating a Tau Psi? Everyone was looking around, trying to guess. Three girls were involved with Tau Psis. One was just a freshman, which pretty much ruled her out. This was a ceremony that usually didn't happen until you were at least a junior. The faces of the two other girls lit up.

I breathed deeply, trying to be as happy for my sister, whoever she was, as the house had been supportive of me during the humiliation with Dakota.

Kelly lit the candle, and, holding her hand around the flame so it wouldn't go out, passed it to the girl to her right.
 

I looked around the circle and realized I was only about six girls from the end. Were any of the girls to my right the one?

Kelly picked up a folded piece of paper, opened it, and began to read as the candle slowly, and with much solemnity, made its way around the circle.

"'Some relationships start with fireworks and a bang,'" she said. "'Ours started with fireworks, all right. I was crushing on her while she was crushing on a former friend of mine.'"

My pulse raced, even though it was silly. So the first part of the story sounded familiar. This kind of thing happened all the time at college.

"'We slid from there into enemies. She wanted him. I wanted her so badly I became bitter and discouraged.'"

Eyes were tearing up around me. This guy was baring his soul.

"'I waited for over two years. It took me nearly running her over and being sentenced to attend the same session of Alcohol and Drug Information School for us to come together again and become frenemies. From frenemies, we became secret sobriety buddies, to best friends, to falling in love.'"

The candle reached me. Beside me, Victoria nudged me to accept it. I'd been entranced by the letter. I was shaking so badly, as I reached for it, I was afraid I would put the flame out. Or drip wax all over myself. Or start crying. This was my story. Mine and Dakota's. But that couldn't be. I hadn't invited him here. He wouldn't be so bold.

BOOK: Crushed (Rushed #2)
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