Kicked (13 page)

The server brought the wine I’d selected and filled our glasses. I couldn’t take my eyes off Cordy. The shock and wonder on her face made me almost giddy.

She finally brought her gaze back to mine. “What is all this?”

“It’s for you.”

“But why here?”

The server brought a bread basket and a plate of beef carpaccio.

“And why now?” She sipped her wine and kept her eyes on mine.

My mouth went dry.

My heart thumped in a rising rhythm as she peered at me with a mix of pleasure and confusion. How could I explain everything to her without sounding like a total jerk? I’d practiced my little speech a million times. Now that I was on the verge of giving it, the words stuck in my throat. I took a gulp of wine, set my glass down, and took her hand beneath the table.

My rehearsed explanation was gone, destroyed by the look in her eyes. “My father died,” I blurted it and winced.

Her face fell and she squeezed my hand. “I’m sorry.”

I shook my head. “No. I mean, thank you, but that’s not—” I sighed and took a deep breath to start again. “That night with you two years ago was the best of my life.”

Her eyes opened wide, and her lips parted.

“I wanted to see you again. The things I said on the phone about not being interested were lies. There was this other girl”—I kept speeding through my words even though her expression darkened when I mentioned Carlotta—“but I didn’t want her. I wanted you. My parents, though, they had planned for a long time that I would be with Carlotta. That night at the restaurant, Carlotta was there with her family. Her father was the one who interrupted us. There were consequences for me. That night, I promised my parents I would stop seeing you.” She leaned away from me, but I couldn’t stop the words from spilling out. Not now. “And that’s why I lied to you and said I wasn’t interested. If I didn’t, my parents would have cut me off. I wouldn’t have any money or my trust fund.” When she pulled her hand away from mine, a shard of anguish pierced my heart. “Cordy—”

“Let me get this straight.” Her tone was cold. “You decided that having a nice car and a posh apartment were more important than breaking my heart?”

“No. I mean yes.” Desperation laced my voice. “You don’t understand. My family had certain expectations for me about the sort of girls I would date and eventually marry. You weren’t what they’d hoped for. I felt like I was letting them down if I kept seeing you. And things were so confusing then. My father—”

“Please, just stop.” She clenched her eyes shut, and the pain radiating from her was almost palpable. I wished I’d never started the explanation in the first place.

“I’m saying this wrong.” The sinking feeling in my stomach had me gripping the white tablecloth. “All of it. I made a mistake that night. I should never have agreed to stop seeing you. You were all I could think about. For two years, it was only you. I’m sorry. If I could go back, I would choose differently, but I can’t.” I’d laid it all out, but I didn’t feel any better. No weight had lifted from my shoulders.

She glanced around, her gaze critical where it had been admiring. “So you set all this up as some sort of do over?”

“Something like that. I wanted to explain and go back to where I messed up with you.” I wiped my sweaty palms down my jeans.

She bowed her head, staring at her plate as I came apart next to her. Minutes ticked by, and I waved the server away when he came to take our entrée order. I wanted to give her a minute to process everything, but I also wanted to pull her into my arms and take away her hurt.

“Cordy?” My voice was drawn tight, like a piano wire about to snap.

She turned to me, but I couldn’t read her expression.

“Please, say something. Anything. Hit me if you want. I don’t care.”

“What do you expect?” Her voice cut through the quiet violins. “You have the nerve to sit here and tell me you chose money over lo—” She pressed her lips into a thin line and tossed her napkin onto the table. “Over whatever we had between us. Then you go on about how I’m not good enough for you or your parents?”

“I’m sorry.” It was all I could say, but it wasn’t enough.

“So you thought you could go back in time and erase it all with flowers and music and a fancy restaurant? You can’t buy me, Trent.” She stood, her eyes glimmering in the low light. “You can’t undo the hurt you caused then or now. I was dumb for believing you the first time. Even dumber for falling for it again. Now, if you’re finished insulting me, I’m leaving.”

I rose. When she shrank away from me and skirted the table, heading for the door, my insides twisted and cramped.

“At least let me drive you home.”

“I’ll get a cab.” The frozen note in her voice stopped me in my tracks.

“Cordy, please.” She didn’t turn or even hesitate.

Like I had done two years ago, she just walked away.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

C
ORDY

I
SNIFFLED INTO MY
pillow while my roommate Ellie pretended not to notice. The distinct smell of nail polish filled the room as she painted her toes a garish pink.

Trent’s words sifted through my mind like sand through a grate. The most hurtful ones were left behind as the rest poured away. He’d crushed the feelings we’d had for each other so he could keep his trust fund safe. My lungs seized at the thought, and I choked back a sob. Deep inside, I’d always hoped there was some good reason for him to do what he did. But there wasn’t. He was a coward. He didn’t stick up for us. Instead, he gave in for money.

I’d tried to put myself in his shoes, but I couldn’t even fathom the idea of having a trust fund or being in a family that hand-selected the people I was allowed to spend time with. Surely, I would buck them and do what I wanted with my life. Right? I lay on my side and yanked my forest green blanket over my head. Ellie popped her gum.

“Want to, like, talk about it?” Her bored voice filtered through the cotton.

“No.”

“Cool.” Another pop of her gum.

Ellie and I had been randomly paired together when we were freshmen since I didn’t have any friends coming to Billingsley with me. And, really, if I were being honest, I didn’t make that many friends back home to start with.

We’d kept the same living arrangement since we got along for the most part. Ellie had been a decent roommate, except for the times she’d brought guys back to the room without any notice, or when she forgot her keys, or when she called me from random frats and asked me to be her designated driver. I was beginning to rethink my classification of Ellie as a decent roommate when a knock sounded at the door.

The last unannounced visitor had been Trent. The second knock sent a thrill of adrenaline through me, though I didn’t like my response. I wanted to put him out of my mind, not get a rush at the thought of seeing him.

I heard her feet slap across the tiles to the door.

“Cordy here?” Landon’s voice.

“Yep.”

A moment later, the foot of my bed shifted. “Cordy?”

“How’d you get in here?”

“I know Brandy at the front desk.” He rested his hand on my calf.

“Like from class?”

“No.” He laughed and then cut it short. “From other things.”

Brandy was likely turning out to be the worst desk attendant Hope Hall had ever seen.

“What happened to taco Tuesday?”

I groaned into my pillow. “I’m sorry. I forgot. Something happened.”

“I figured that since you’re hiding under your blanket. What’s going on?”

“Trent.”

His hand tightened on my calf. “What did he do?”

I shook my leg, and he let up. “He frickin’ took me to La Café Blanc. And there were flowers, and music, and food, and the entire restaurant to ourselves.”

“That doesn’t sound like anything to cry about,” Ellie chirped.

“Put a sock in it, Ellie.” Landon’s voice was low. “What else did he do?”

“I don’t know.” I wanted to flip the blanket down and get some cooler air, but I didn’t want them to see what a mess I was. “He told me all this stuff. Like, bad stuff.”

Landon scooted closer, his shadow falling over my face. “What did he say?”

I nibbled my bottom lip. I didn’t want Landon to do anything to Trent. And the stupid part of me that I couldn’t turn off—the part that still ached for Trent to be a good man—didn’t want Landon to hate him, either.

“Cordy, tell me.” He rested his hand on my arm.

The blanket started slipping, and I turned my face farther into the pillow as he pulled it all the way to my shoulder.

“Come on.” He smoothed the wet strands of hair from my face. “Tell me.”

I shrugged. “He just said that dating me would have displeased his parents.”

“What else?” His voice was tight, his jaw clenched.

I glanced up at him, and he smoothed his palm over my cheek, though I could feel the anger roiling inside him. I decided to keep my response as vague as possible. “Just that he’s a Carrington, you know? I guess that means a lot to people like him or something.”

“You’re over there crying about Trent Carrington?” Ellie blew on her fingernails.

I stared at her. It wasn’t as if I could deny it.

“He’s hot. My dad used to be the foreman at one of his dad’s car parts factories before he retired. We went to Mr. Carrington’s funeral a few months ago. Trent was smoking hot in a black suit and tie.” She whistled for emphasis then popped her gum. “He was really broken up, though.”

At the restaurant, Trent had started off with the news that his father had died. I’d glossed over it once he told me the rest of his story, then forgotten about it completely as I nursed my newly injured heart.

I shifted to get a better look at Ellie. “What happened to him?”

“I don’t know. I would have loved to comfort him. Damn, he was fine.” She started painting a clear coat, her long blonde hair falling in a curtain on either side of her face.

I stifled my eye roll, barely. “Not Trent. His father. What happened to him?”

“Oh.” She squinted her eyes, focusing on her polish task. “Cancer. Leukemia maybe?”

I settled back into my pillow. Had Trent’s father objected to me? Had his death meant that Trent was free and clear of the trust fund threat? A queasy feeling slithered around my stomach at the thought of Trent coming back for me only
after
knowing his money was safe.

Landon scoffed. “I don’t care about Trent or his father. All I want to know is where he lives.”

“Why?” I grabbed his forearm.

“I’m going to kick his ass for thinking he’s better than you.”

“He doesn’t think that.” I closed my eyes and tried to go back through the things he said with a more objective approach. “He never said he agreed with his parents, only that he would stop seeing me so that his trust fund—”

Landon ripped his forearm from my grasp and rose. “You’ve got to be kidding me. He treated you like shit so he could keep his fucking trust fund?” His snarl verged on frightening.

Ellie made a purring sound in her throat. “You look good when you’re angry.”

I sat up, and Landon’s gaze traced the line of my thin tank top down over my breasts. I yanked the blanket back up.

“Why don’t you ever wear that to class?” His voice still carried anger, but his signature smirk hinted at making an appearance.

“All girls, Landon!” I huffed. “This is an all girls’ dorm. You aren’t supposed to be in here!”

“Glad I broke the rules.” He turned back toward the door. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a preppy ass to beat.”

“No!” I stood and pulled the blanket along with me. It wouldn’t help if he saw the small pajama shorts that matched the top.

“Why not?” He placed his hand on the doorknob.

“I need him in one piece for tomorrow. He’s my holder.” That was the only reason. No other reason at all.

“Fuck!” He jiggled the door handle mercilessly, his frustration rising.

Ellie snorted and screwed her bottle of clear polish shut. “You break it; you buy it.”

I walked to him. “I need you to support me here, okay? Trent is an asshole. I think even he knows that. But tomorrow is about me, about winning that scholarship. I’m going to need all the help I can get.”

He leaned forward and rested his head on the door frame. “I can’t stand him.”

“I know.” I ran my hand down his back, over the lettering of his vintage Megadeth t-shirt. “After tomorrow, I might even be rooting you on. But for now, I need to get some sleep and focus on kicking. Worrying about you and Trent getting into a fight isn’t going to help me accomplish either of those goals.”

He turned and pulled me into his arms. It was nice, but nothing even close to the way my blood turned to liquid fire whenever Trent touched me.

Resting his chin on my head, he sighed. “I won’t touch him until after tryouts. Okay?”

“That’s all I need. But I don’t want you fighting at all. I can handle him.” I thought it best not to add that it was obvious Trent was bigger and stronger, and that Landon would likely wind up on the losing end of any confrontation. No point in harming his pride.

“He’s not good enough for you. You know that, right?” He squeezed me tighter.

I didn’t have a response, so I just snuggled in closer.

“I could go for a hug,” Ellie grumbled.

Landon laughed, some of the tension draining from him. “That can be arranged.”

I backed up and waggled my finger at him. “No. I can’t have things super awkward in my own dorm room. Do your dirt elsewhere.”

He smiled, his dark eyes lighting up with mischief. “So as long as I don’t do it here, we’re good?”

“You know that’s not what I meant.” I lowered my voice. “Ellie is off limits.”

“I can hear you, you know.” Ellie clicked off the light on her side of the room and flounced down into her bed.

He put a hand on his hip and pointed to my bed with the other. “Get to bed. You need your rest.”

I studied his face. “Promise you won’t do anything?”