Hope for Her (Hope #1) (17 page)

"I shouldn't talk about him. Especially with you."

"Why especially with me?"

"Well, because you're his best friend, although ...”

"What?"

"How are you best friends?"

"What do you mean?" He plopped down next to me and placed his crossed arms on the table. He rubbed one forearm with the thumb of his other hand and my eyes fixated on the muscle as it flexed.

"What?"

"What do you mean, why are we friends? Why are you and your best friend, friends?"

“I don’t have a best friend.”

“Aren’t you and Josh best friends?”

I didn’t answer him; I tried distracting myself by staring at the books on the walk.

"You don't have anything in common. You guys come from two different worlds. I've met your family, and they … are normal,” I said.

"Well, thank you. I think."

"Why didn't you ask me out?" I blurted out.

Jackson stopped rubbing his arm, which allowed me to focus on his answer.

"What are you talking about?" He shifted in his seat and looked poised to take off.

"When we meet. Right here in this room. We had a good time. We vibed and then you sent me some group text asking me to a party." I pushed my hair back, uncomfortable with my line of questioning, but I couldn’t stop, "Why didn't you ask me out?"

"I wanted to," he said as he settled back into his chair. "I don't know. You seemed kind of fragile. I didn't want to scare you."

"You thought I was fragile?"

"Well, it sounds bad when you say it like that. It was a compliment."

"No it's not."

"You want the truth?"

"Yes please." I raised my hands in the air. "Someone, please tell me the truth."

He laughed.

"Okay, I didn't want to be your first boyfriend in college."

"Okay." I concentrated on what he said, but didn't get it. "What?"

"I wanted to be your last."

"Oh."

He blushed and turned away.

So adorable.

"So,” he cleared his throat. “Imagine my surprise when I find out the next day you hooked up with my best friend."

"But we didn't hook up. Not that night anyway. I passed out in his room."

"You were his girl, even before I knew who you were. He ran home to tell me about the beautiful girl he saw across the quad. He described every detail about you and for a week, every day he walked around campus looking for you and when he found you, the guy practically skipped home to tell me about it. And when I saw you at the party and figured out you were the one he was talking about—"

"I was off-limits from that moment on."

"Unfortunately, yeah." 

"I'm off-limits for good?"

He hesitated for a minute, but in the end, he answered the way I expected him to answer. The way any nice, wholesome, sexy as hell, good guy would.

I hate him
.

"Yeah, guy code. You don't go after a buddy's girl."

"Never."

"Never."

"Not even if he's dead."

“You planning on bumping Josh off?” he asked.

“No, but when he’s like sixty and on his death bed, ask him if it’s okay to take me out. I’ll drop whatever I’m doing.”

We smiled at each other.

“Are you two okay?" he asked.

"We are fine. I ..." I said, "I don’t ..." The right word escaped me. "It's too much too soon. Does that make sense?"

"Yeah."

"I thought I would come to college. Have some fun. Meet a guy and hang out. But with Josh—it's so intense. Everything is at such a heightened level, and I feel like I am trying to keep up."

"Josh can be intense."

"Don't get me wrong, I love and appreciate how much Josh cares about me, and I care about him, too.” I gripped the table. “I thought it would be easier."

"Well, maybe it will be, now. You got all the hard part over with."

"I don't know. He seems so insecure about our relationship. Like every time I am with him, I have to make up for the moments we aren't together where he doubts how I feel about him. It's exhausting."

"Yeah."

"Like, when I told him I was going home for winter break. He freaked out."

"I know this is kind of fucked-up, but he feels like if given some time to think about it, you’ll realize he's not good enough for you."

"That's ridiculous. Hasn't he ever heard of absence makes the heart grow fonder?"

"Yeah, if you love something, let it go."

"Yeah." I laughed.

"I don't think the Griffins deal in stupid love clichés."

"Oh, please don't get me started on the Griffins."

"What's wrong, you don't love and adore Mr. Joshua Elijah Griffin, III." Jackson used his best aristocratic accent. "He didn't sugar and darling and little lady you to death."

"Yeah, but I got the feeling he wasn't expecting his son to show up with a black girl from Texas. Especially not to the social engagement of the century."

"I can't believe he took you to that thing."

"Well, we didn't stay long."

"What happened?" Jackson asked.

I sighed and sunk in my chair finding it easy to share things with Jackson, but I didn't want to spend what little time remaining with him talking about the Griffin's family drama.

"Let's just say, I don't think I'll have to worry about getting invited to anymore Griffin family gatherings."

"They are a lot to take, especially all at once. But they are so cliché, you know. Bunch of rich white kids with no mother and daddy issues. I get on him all the time about it. The kid has more money than he could ever spend. He doesn't have to let his father dictate his life."

"He feels he owes him."

"That's what's so sad. I talk to my dad about it, and he's like don't ever think you have to do something because of me or for me. I owe everything to you."

I smiled and touched Jackson's arm. It touched my heart the way he spoke about his father.

"My parents and I aren't close, but being away from them, I kind of understand them better."

"How?"

"Well, I always felt like they could care less whether they had me or not. I always felt like an addition after the fact."

"Yeah."

"Now, I look back and think how they had to adjust their whole future because I came along, and they didn't blame me for it so much as they had to figure it out."

"That's mature of you."

"I know right?" I smiled.

"You should talk to them about it."

"You think?"

"Yeah. Approach it like an adult. They might appreciate you more now that they know you can take care of yourself."

I nodded.

We spent a couple more hours talking and studying. With Jackson, it was easy. No measuring my word choices or having to worry about triggering someone's insecurity.

I wanted to tell him, but I stopped myself. I put those thoughts out of my head. Jackson was right. I made my choice.

Choice—there is that word again.

Besides, If we hooked up, dating the star quarterback for the FSU Seminoles had its own set of drama.

Jackson walked me to my dorm. I understood the whole guy code thing, but tonight, for one night, I so wanted to pretend it didn't exist. Jackson's goodness, his sincerity, his loyalty to his friend, all the things I liked about him and the reason he would never betray his best friend to be with me. I would have to settle for daydreaming about Jackson Latre Mitchell.

No harm in that, right?

"Thanks for tonight. It helped."

"Good. I'm glad I could help and if I don't see you before you go home, Merry Christmas and Happy New Year."

I giggled and reached out to squeeze Jackson's arms.

"And, even though we are," he cleared his throat, “not allowed to hook up, I still consider you a friend. You need anything, Carrington, please call me."

"I will. You do the same, okay?"

"I will."

I gave him a quick hug and went into my dorm. It took half the night for me to forget about how great he smelled.

Chapter Twenty-One

Joshua Elijah Griffin, IV

During the three weeks between Thanksgiving and winter break, I decided to make sure Carrington remembered why she loved me. I tried spending all my free time with her. Well, as much time as she would allow. When I got close to getting on her nerves, I would back off.

When she got home, I wanted her to miss me.

My plan worked out great until the day she was supposed to leave. I showed up late, and she rode to the airport pissed, accusing me of trying to make her miss her flight.

I got her to the airport on time, but her anger level had already reached a fevered pitch. When the car stopped, she fumbled with the door and pushed it open with a sigh. I grabbed her arm, and she settled back in her seat.

"I know you have to go, but I wanted to give you this first." 

"Josh, I thought we were going to wait until we got back. I haven't bought you anything, yet."

"I know. That's fine. I want you to have this now."

She took the gift and flipped the small blue box with a red ribbon. Her hands shook as she turned the box over in her hands.

"Relax, it's not my mother's pearls or anything."

She smiled as she pulled the ribbon and lifted the top off the box. Inside sat a smaller leather box. She opened it and gasped.

A small diamond encrusted gold spear on the end of a chain sat in the middle of the box. The diamonds caught the light. She touched the diamond surface and pulled the pendant out of the box. She let it dangle down off her fingers.

"Josh, it's beautiful."

"You like it."

"Yes."

I took the chain and unhooked it and latched it around her neck. It fell in the middle of her chest. I touched it with my fingertips, grazing her breast with my thumb. She leaned in and kissed me. It was the most perfect kiss. I kissed her back with a little more force, and she didn't pull away. She let me kiss her, and I opened her mouth with my tongue and tasted her. I concentrated on making it a kiss to remember.

I leaned into her, but she pulled back. I tried to follow, but with her hand on my chest, she pushed me away.

"What is wrong now?" I asked. She tensed from my tone.

"Nothing is wrong. I . . ." She struggled to find the right words, and I panicked.

"Listen. Have a good time at home, and I’ll talk to you when you get back."

"Okay."

"And I won't bother you while you're gone."

"You can call me."

"You need some time. This’ll be good. You take your time, and we’ll talk when you get back. It’ll be fine."

"Josh, what are you doing?"

"I’m trying to give you what you want. Trying to be what you want me to be."

"I don't want you to be anything. I want you to be yourself."

"This is me." I opened my hands to show her. I wasn't trying to pull one over on her. She made everything so complicated.

"Well, I'm going to go."

"Okay." I jumped out of the car and got her bag out of the trunk. I placed it on the sidewalk and raised the handle.

I felt like a kid seeking approval; any indication I behaved in the manner she wanted me to behave. I know, I sounded pathetic, but I vowed back at the condo to do what I needed to do to make this girl love me.

She took the handle and headed into the terminal. I needed to say something. Do one last thing to assure her that when she returned it would be better.

“Carrington?” She looked back over her shoulder. “Just remember, I love you. Ok?”

She approached me, placed her hand on the side of my face and the warmth flowed through her fingertips. Tears sprang up in her eyes, but her eyes focused on my lips.

I started explaining, but she placed her thumb on my lips, so I stayed quiet. Our faces were only inches apart, and I studied her, smelled her sweet scent. We never stared at each other except when we laid next to each other in bed, and both lust and dread entered my mind.

Carrington had all the power to crush me or make me the happiest man in the world. Sweat broke out on my forehead, and my insides tightened. It scared me to give someone that kind of power over my mental psyche. I felt sick and had a hard on at the same time. I wanted to tell her to be careful with me. I think she understood her power, but I wanted to warn her to be gentle anyway.

She turned my face and kissed me on the cheek. She released my face, and I admit it was not what I expected. The gesture held no answer, no commitment. It left me feeling confused, empty, and unsatisfied. I wanted to scream at her for making me feel this way. She blinked her eyes, and I knew I needed to let her go. I trusted our connection. She would get on the plane and at some point when she least expected it, she would reach up and feel the spear necklace around her neck and realize how much she loved me, too.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Joshua Elijah Griffin, IV

It took forty-eight hours without Carrington for me to self-destruct. I woke up in a strange bed, in a strange place, with a strange girl. Not strange as in someone I didn't know. Well, I didn't know her, but I meant strange as in odd.

When I woke up, I thought Carrington was lying next to me in my bed. I reached out and touched her soft skin and sighed, but when she sighed, she sounded nothing like my girl. I sat up quick and lost my balance; I fell off the bed knowing I'd done something bad.

I fell hard on my hipbone and screamed out in pain. She turned over and reached out for me. I leaned back as I squinted and squeezed my eyes open and shut. I had hoped to identify this person before she woke up.

Her brown hair contained pink and purple streaks. I reached out to touch it, and it slid out of my hands. I pushed her hair out of her eyes, and she had covered her eyelids in glittery crap.

I pulled my hand away and looked down at my bare torso, covered in the same glitter shit.

Where the fuck are my clothes?

I pulled the blanket off the bed and covered my naked ass.