Unethical (6 page)

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Authors: Jennifer Blackwood

Tags: #coming of age, #NA, #assisted suicide, #romance, #college, #Entangled, #Jennifer Blackwood, #med school, #Embrace, #new adult, #medical school

BOOK: Unethical
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“And let the person suffer? That’s cruel,” said Blake.

This needed to stop. I couldn’t handle this. Blake had no idea what he was talking about. He didn’t know jack shit when it came to my mom.

“There are other methods to kill yourself that don’t involve a doctor.” The whole class gasped at Nasally Voice Girl’s response.

Spit went down the wrong tube as I sharply inhaled. I tried to take a deep breath, but couldn’t stop coughing. Dots swarmed in my field of vision, and that panicky,
I’m going to freakin’ pass out in the middle of class, I hope I don’t pee myself
feeling sent goose bumps rippling over my skin. A few breaths made it past my spazzed-out windpipe, and my lungs got just enough air so I didn’t faint.

I wheezed all the way up the aisle, which I swear grew in length as I made my way to the exit. I ignored the stares as I walked past each row. Twelve rows to be exact. The clanging metal of the push bar resonated in the auditorium as I crashed through the door.

This couldn’t be happening. I wasn’t ready for this. How could I ever be a doctor if I couldn’t handle a simple discussion about something my father did? I’d let him win if I chose another career path, and I’d worked too damn hard to give this up.

Through blurred tears, I made my way to the bathroom on the second floor, shoving my phone into my pocket as I climbed the stairs. I splashed water on my face and gripped both sides of the sink. The droplets beaded off my face and landed on the porcelain sink in tiny taps. My arms shook as I put my whole weight onto the sink.

A blotchy-cheeked version of myself stared back at me in the mirror. “Get it together. You’re better than this.”

No way in hell I’d go back in that classroom today. Jules would get my stuff. I just needed to text her.

I wedged my hand in my pocket and it took three attempts to navigate through the tight denim until it hit my phone. The pocket had a death grip on my hand as I extracted the phone, leaving red marks on my knuckles. Seriously, girl jeans needed bigger pockets.

That’
s right. Focus on jeans and red knuckles, not on Dad. Not on your asshole ex who doesn
’t know what the hell he’s talking about.

My sweaty palms made it impossible to get a good grip on my phone and it shot out of my hand and dropped to the cement ground. The battery popped out upon impact, skidding a few feet away. I let out an exasperated grunt and smacked the sink with my palm. Today was officially deemed
shit on Payton
day. I grabbed the battery from the floor and popped it back into my phone.

“Are you okay?”

I shrieked and dropped my phone again.

Damnit!

Seriously. Could I do something right? Tears tracked down my face as I slid down the wall.

Jules picked up my phone and sat next to me on the floor. “What’s wrong?” Man, I must have looked like a complete wreck if she subjected her designer jeans to the bathroom floor.

“It’s my dad.” Snot ran down my chin to complete this new trendy neurotic-chic look. I sniffed and wiped my nose with my sleeve. I needed to tell her. Out of anyone, I trusted her the most, and if I didn’t tell someone soon and get this off my chest, I would go into self-destruct mode.

She grabbed my non-snotty hand and massaged my palm. “What do you mean? What happened?”

I took in a ragged breath and readied myself for her reaction. If she wanted me to move out by morning, I wouldn’t blame her. Not many people would want to live with the daughter of a killer.

“My dad is Dr. Cooper.”

Her brows furrowed as she took in what I said. “But your last name is Daniels.”

“That’s my mom’s last name.” My mom was an established lawyer by the time she met my father and didn’t want to take his name. “I legally changed it when I moved to Florida two years ago.”

“Oh.” She pushed her bangs out of her face and tucked them behind her ear. “Well, shit. Let’s get out of here.”

The pressure in my chest lifted a millimeter. She wasn’t kicking me out. In fact, she didn’t even look disgusted or terrified to be in the same room as me. She looked like normal Jules, minus her butt rubbing against all the bathroom floor germs.

“I need to get my backpack first.”

Jules turned and picked up something beside her. She held up my backpack and dangled it in front of me. “You mean this?”

“I love you.”

She kissed the top of my head and ruffled my hair. “I love you, too. Now let’s get some coffee.”

After a few hours of studying, we went to figure drawing. I’d convinced Jules to switch out of her Pilates class after her instructor got a little too handsy with his demonstrations.

Jules dropped her backpack onto the ground and slumped into her seat. “I don’t know how you talked me into this. I can’t draw worth shit.”

“It’s beginning figure drawing class. No one knows how to draw in here.”

A tall, blond-haired guy with high cheekbones and a sculpted bod untied the black sash from his robe, took it off, and hung it on a coat rack by the door.

Jules straightened in her seat, eyes brightening. “Ah. This is why I agreed.”

I elbowed her in the side. “Maybe I shouldn’t have brought you.”

“And deprive me of this hot-guy mecca?” She waggled her brows. “This is so much better than Pilates.”

Chapter Six

Blake

“What do you wanna do tonight?” Jules nibbled my ear and gently squeezed my leg.

I shifted to move farther away on the bed. “How about a movie?”

What the hell, Hiller? She was all over you.

“Hmm.” She stuck her bottom lip out into a pout. “We just watched a movie.”

“We could go to the drive-in. It’ll be fun.” And it bought me time to try and figure out why I hesitated every time she brushed against me. Maybe I just needed to get to know her better, and then my mind would be on the same page as the rest of my body.

“Oh! That sounds like fun.” She bounced next to me, her hand grabbing my thigh. With the way she kept touching me, she expected me to make a move. But I couldn’t, because my stupid schmuck self kept thinking about someone else.

“Great, I’ll check out times.” I pulled up the movie app on my phone.

Jules put her hand on my arm as I scrolled through movie times. “Do you think we could invite Payton and Andrew?”

“Uh.” How could I say
when hell freezes over
nicely? I didn’t want to spend tonight with the one person I fought to forget. “Don’t you want it to be just the two of us?”

Jules looked up at me with big doe eyes. She chewed the inside of her lip and said, “Payton had a really bad day, and I was hoping this would lighten her mood.”

I bit the tip of my tongue and held back a chuckle. After the glares she sent my way in class, I could confidently assume I was the last person she wanted to see, and possibly the person at the top of her hit list.
So much for making amends.
I tried to be nice, tried to stick up for her dad when that brown-nosing chick ripped him a new one, and look where that got me. She was even angrier than before.

And then it occurred to me: I’d stuck up for someone who didn’t give a rat’s ass about me. This needed to end. I needed to push her away. And if pissing her off meant saving my heart from religious persecution, then that was what I had to do. And this seemed like the perfect opportunity.

“If you think it would make her happy.”

Forty minutes later, we all piled into Betty and drove south on the interstate, en route to the drive-in. Payton hadn’t said a word since she jumped into my truck.

The air vents circulated her perfume through the whole cab, like the outside air continuously pumped in gallons of the sweet scent. The same stuff she’d worn since junior year. The one I bought her for Christmas. Payton had gushed on about this perfume in a flower-shaped bottle, and since I lacked the early-gift-buying gene, I slid my way across town to the mall on December twenty-fourth, almost wrecking Betty on my way home because of a fucking blizzard. Only an idiot would go out to get perfume for a girlfriend in a snowstorm. Or a guy who wanted to make his girlfriend happy.

My shoulders relaxed into the seat as I thought of all the good times from when we dated in high school. Especially in the back of my truck where she and Andrew were now sitting a little too close for my comfort level.

Damnit, Hiller, you’re supposed to be pushing her away, not thinking about her.

“Thanks for inviting us, bro.”

I tightened my grip around the steering wheel. If it were up to me, the jackass would be at the frat with one of his call girls, not in the backseat of my truck. “No problem.”

“Yeah, thanks.” The edge in Payton’s voice conveyed about as much enthusiasm as someone getting mauled by a pack of raccoons. With rabies.

We pulled up to the gate and paid our admission, and I drove the truck around the lot to find a good center spot. I backed into a space, then we piled in the bed of the pickup with sleeping bags and pillows that I had packed.

Jules nestled in a sleeping bag at the front of the truck bed and leaned her back against the rear window. She patted the spot next to her, and I sat. The sleeping bag swished against my jeans as she adjusted herself closer to me, her leg bouncing rapidly. Damn, she probably loaded up on Oreos before she met up with me tonight. Was this girl always on a sugar high?

She rested her head on my shoulder, and her hair smelled like a vanilla wafer. My stomach gurgled, and I realized I’d forgotten to eat dinner that night. After classes, I spent most of the day at the library, only going home with enough time to get ready for my date. By the time Jules came over, Marty, our chef, had packed away the food.

I pushed off the truck bed and stood. “I’m gonna get some popcorn. You guys want anything?”

Jules said, “A Coke sounds good. Don’t be gone too long.” She kicked my foot and winked.

At the foot of the pickup, Andrew stood behind Payton and wrapped his arm around her stomach. “I’m good, bro.”

My fingers curled into a fist.

This is for the best. You want Jules, and Payton wants Andrew.

Payton wriggled her way out of Andrew’s grip and said, “I’ll come with.”

We walked up to the concession stand in silence and stood in line, waiting for the next available employee to take our order. I needed to break this awkward standstill between us. If we had class together every week, we at least needed to be on speaking terms.

“You smell good.”
Real smooth. What next? Are you going to throw sand in her hair?
I did do that once, but that was at the beach, and I needed an excuse to get her into the water.

My brain and my dick were not on the same page with the plan to push her away.

Her right eyebrow curved up slightly. Always the right, never the left. The same
what the hell
look she gave me in eighth grade the first time I asked her to slow dance at the end-of-the-year party. “Uh, thanks.”

We stood there, neither of us talking. Maybe the damage had already been done, and I didn’t need to push her away any further. I banked on this, because I hadn’t been this speechless in front of a girl since middle school.

A tall, grandma-ish looking lady waved us both up to her open register. I paid for Payton’s Coke and my popcorn without thinking twice, like old times.

The cashier handed Payton a cup and passed me the bag of popcorn and some spare change. We walked over to the condiment stand, and I watched her as she studied the soda fountain dispenser.

She turned to me as she pressed the cup against the Coke option. “Are you doing this to rub it in my face?” The fire in her narrowed eyes sent my balls ducking for cover.

“What?” It had been a while since I’d seen her pissed off, and holy hell, her brand of scary ranked up there with the girl from
The Shining
. My balls suctioned up into my body, and I now had a pair of ovaries, unable to follow through with the plan. “This was Jules’s idea. Not mine.”
Great job, dip wad. Throw her roommate under the bus. Real fucking mature.

She continued to level me with her glare, and Coke spilled over the edge of her cup, the dark liquid running down her hand. I pulled a few napkins out of a bin beside the condiments and blotted her skin. She stiffened and then yanked her hand away.

“Don’t touch me,” she growled.

Fuck.
My emotions were all over the place. Why couldn’t I go back to the numbness I’d endured the past two years of college? Anything was better than this
feeling
shit. Something about seeing her again made me so aware of everything.

Somehow, I had resumed my role as doting boyfriend.

I handed her the napkins, grabbed my popcorn, and pumped the butter dispenser enough times to guarantee I’d have a heart attack by the time I finished this messed-up double date.

Assuming I would live long enough to survive Miss Flamethrower’s death glares. Even though my dick did everything in his power to botch it, my plan was working. At this rate, I would only have to see her an hour a week in class.

She wadded up the napkins, sunk them into the trash with a perfect layup, and put her hands on her hips. “You didn’t answer my question. Are you dating Jules to get back at me?”

My shoes scuffed against the pavement as I searched for an answer. Why was I dating Jules? Well, she had that whole not making me feel like a piece of shit thing going for her, and it didn’t hurt she was easy on the eyes. But it didn’t feel right. Even kissing her on the cheek felt forced.

“I’m just trying to move on.” I inwardly growled at myself. These newfound ovaries must be pumping estrogen into my body by the barrelful.

She raised her brow, and her mouth pursed into a pout, obviously not wooed by my honesty.

“I don’t need any of your stupid excuses. I didn’t come back for you. I came back because I had to.”

The words themselves were a swift kick to the nuts, but her tone shook as bad as my arms on the last rep of bench presses. I didn’t buy it. There had to be some part of her that still felt
something
. Or maybe I was just an idiot for being stuck on her for so long.

“No one said I was waiting for you.” Even though that was pretty much why I had stayed in California and ruined my chances at a full ride to Baylor. She didn’t need to know that, though. “Maybe you should have stayed in Florida.” Maybe then I wouldn’t feel like someone carved out my heart with an ice pick.

Her features twisted for a millisecond and then quickly recomposed. “You’re an ass.”

She wound back her arm, the universal sign for
I’m about the slap the shit out of you.
No need to stop it because I deserved it, and physical pain was much more preferable than this ache in my chest. Just as she reeled her palm toward my face, the breeze picked up her perfume and carried it under my nose. Something inside me snapped and brought me back to junior year, when our relationship just started heating up. Memories of her sprawled out naked on my bed flooded my brain. Her perfect perky breasts, her tight stomach. And those fucking irresistible green eyes and strawberry curls.

I grabbed her hand before she hit my face and pulled her to me. Before she had the chance to react, I crushed my mouth against hers. Her soft lips tasted of Coke and cherry lip balm and God damn perfection. My other hand went to her hair, my fingers tangling in its waves.

Her free hand ran down my back and slipped under my shirt. She traced tiny circles across my skin, and I throbbed for her to take it further.

She moaned as her lips fell into motion with mine, and for a split second I forgot we had broken up. It was just us. Back when shit was simple. It wasn’t until I slipped my tongue past her teeth that she stiffened and pushed off me.

Her eyes had that faraway look, the one she always had after an orgasm. She shook her head, and her gaze came back into focus. Moment over. “What the hell, Blake? I’m on a date with
Andrew.

Shit.

I raked my hand through my hair. What was I thinking? I was supposed to be on a date with Jules, and I fucking kissed my ex-girlfriend?

She huffed out a sigh, staring at her soda. “Stay away from me.” She whirled around and stomped off toward the truck.

Idiot
. I shouldn’t have done that, but I couldn’t help it. Being around her turned me back into that horny guy I was in high school—the one that could never keep my hands off her. The popcorn bag crumpled underneath my clenched fist, and kernels rained to the ground. That couldn’t happen again.

I made my way to the truck, wasted popcorn crunching beneath my feet, and cussed under my breath.

She turned around and said, “By the way, you forgot Jules’s Coke.”

Fuck.

We safely deposited Payton at her apartment after the movie. Jules wanted to hang out for a little while longer, so the three of us headed back to the frat.

When we returned to my room, Andrew shook my hand and pressed a condom against my palm as we released our grip. He winked and strutted out of the room, closing the door behind him. A chuckle and scoff mixed in my throat as I looked at the foil square. Not where the night was heading, but good to know he used protection.

Jules flopped down on my bed, her long legs crossed at the ankles as she leaned against my pillow. I sat next to her and propped my elbows on the bed.

“Jules.” The words I needed to say next had my throat in a chokehold. I wanted to tap out, but it was the right thing to do, even if I didn’t like it. I had the whole ride home to make my decision, and the more I thought about it, the more I hated myself for being so hung up on Payton. But that kiss. Our lips fit perfectly together, and, by the way she moaned and her back arched into me, she wanted me, too.

Her eyes shifted from my bedspread to my face. “Blake.” She smiled and rolled from the pillow and straddled me.

“Listen—”

“Maybe I don’t want to listen.” She giggled and poked my stomach.

What was I, the Pillsbury Doughboy? Normally this wouldn’t bother me. I mean, hot chick with hands all over me? Awesome. But between my emotions taking me on a wilder ride than Ryan putting us in a ditch during drivers ed and that confusing random kiss with Payton at the drive-in, my patience meter ran on empty.

She kissed my neck, and I desperately wanted the queasiness in my gut to go away.

Nope. Hiller, grow some balls.
My newfound ovaries protested.

“I think you’re a great girl, but—”

She stopped kissing me, sat back on her heels, and nibbled on her bottom lip. “But what?”

“I can’t do this.” I motioned my hand from her to me.

She cocked her head to the side. “What do you mean?”

Shit
. During the whole ride home, it didn’t occur to me that she would question this. Hell, I didn’t even know how to explain this. Except I did. I took a deep breath and flinched as I said, “I still have feelings for my ex.”
Damn
. That hurt to admit out loud. Keeping it inside, it was a secret, one I could control. But now that it was out in the open, it was true.

I still loved Payton.

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