Wynter's Horizon (13 page)

I shrugged. “Maybe.” We walked past dorms, some bordered by a large wooded area.

He paused outside the last dorm, tilting his head, as if listening to a good song. “God I wish I was a university boy. Lots of sex.” Then he glanced at me. “Fuck.”

I caught what he heard—guys laughing and talking over one another.

“Yeah, so Jason said he totally banged her up against the wall of the storage room.”

“Man, Meyers is unbelievable. Too bad he didn’t get a video. I would’ve liked to see that.”

“Not only that, I heard, after it was over, he took off and she had to walk home.”

“Talk about the fucking walk of shame.”

I moved toward the window from which the voices came. Quinn stayed on my heels, probably worried about what I would do.

“She doesn’t seem like that from the outside. You know, the kind to screw in a public place.”

“Oh, come on. She’s pretty damn hot. Have you seen her legs and ass?”

“That doesn’t mean she’s up for sex in a bar.”

“Yeah, well, Jason said, when they first dated, he popped her cherry so she’s totally into him and can’t say no.” I could feel a growl building in my chest. The wood of the window frame buckled under my clenched fingers.

“Are you kidding? She was a virgin? Meyers is such a lucky son of a bitch.” Just then, one of the guys I had seen with her in the bar spoke up.

“I don’t think that’s true. She had a boyfriend last year before … you know … the accident. Besides, what difference does it make? Meyers is an ass. He treats her like shit. She’s been through enough. You know they had to cut her out of that damn car. Let it go.” They grumbled a bit but moved on to talk about somebody else.

I relaxed my grip on the sill and dusted the broken wood particles off my hands. “Bloody hell, I need a drink.”

Quinn smiled. “Lead the way.”

***

I replayed the boys’ conversation in my head on the drive home.

“You’re more broody than normal. What’s up? It’s not like you thought she was a virgin,” he joked.

“I don’t care about that. I just don’t understand this world.”

“How long has it taken you to figure that out? I thought you were smarter than this.”

“No, I mean it. It’s cruel. The way things happen, how people treat each other. I don’t get it.”

Quinn gave me an incredulous look. “Beck, it is cruel. All of it. You know this. Look at us. We’re freaks. Used by governments for good and bad. No way out and no way to fit in. No one to turn to except each other. No rights because we can’t tell anyone without risking worse treatment.”

Quinn was right, even if he didn’t know the whole story. Meeting her in that other plane didn’t mean I had a place in her world, a right to mess around here. As bad as her world might be, the troubles she had, my world was even worse.

I wanted to walk away. But, after standing on that ledge watching her, I wanted more. She had woken a part of me I didn’t know existed anymore, and I couldn’t make it go away. I didn’t even want to try.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Wynter—Drinks

I gave a quick perusal of the room as we walked in. Hailey headed for the bar to order a round of beers as I slid into a booth, shrugging off my coat and scanning the crowd. I didn’t see Beck or his friend. I’d been dumped on all week. Just as I’d feared, everyone seemed to know about the bar episode. One freshman asshole from the hockey team had even texted me about giving him a blow job in the library basement and then uploaded a pic of me onto Facebook with some obnoxious caption. Brian, as assistant team captain, had finally intervened and the kid deleted it, but not before it made the rounds. I hoped tonight would be better.

“Well?” Annie asked. She leaned forward over the table, her ample chest threatening to spill out of her blue sweater. “Is he here?”

“I don’t see him.” I motioned to her exposed cleavage.

“It’s not my fault,” she said self-consciously, pulling her sweater up.

“I know. I know. And it looks great on you.”

Hailey dropped the beers off on her way to the jukebox, stating as she passed, “Wynter’s just jealous.” I laughed. Hailey was right. I was thin, not curvy. Jason loved to comment on my ‘small rack’ as he put it.

Julia scooted over next to me. “I wish I had them, too.”

“Enough. Hailey has a big chest, too,” Annie snapped, clearly annoyed. Hailey smiled sweetly at us from the jukebox. She wouldn’t deny it.

“Speaking of large chests, have you seen broccoli girl’s?” Galen asked. Broccoli girl, one of our classmates aptly named for her solitary diet of broccoli, fascinated Julia and Sophie to no end. The girls continued their tirade as I made a trip to the bathroom. I stopped at the bar on the way back, pausing to let another girl out before sliding between stools to order drinks.

Jim grinned at me. “How ya doing?” I felt guilty for misusing his bar. I wondered if he knew.

I smiled back and leaned over the bar. “Okay. How about some kamikazes?”

“I just sent over a round of French hookers.”

“Really?” He nodded then pointed to the end of the bar. My breath caught in my throat. He raised a glass to me and smiled and, for a moment, I couldn’t remember how to breathe. I’d been thinking about him all week, but my memory hadn’t done him justice. He got up and made his way over. I leaned back to Jim and croaked, “Can I have another beer?” He chuckled and slid a bottle across the bar. I promptly took a long drink.

Beck leaned down to me. “Hello.” I gulped and almost choked on my mouthful of beer.

“Hi,” I coughed out.

His smile reached his bright eyes. “I sent over a round of shots for you and your friends.”

I nodded, melting at his accent. “Thank you. Do you want to come over and meet them?” I didn’t have much of a choice, I knew. They were laughing and staring at us.

He made space for me to lead the way. I glanced over my shoulder and saw Quinn behind him. Hailey moved over in the booth, and I scooted in next to her. “Girls, this is Beck.” They all stared at him, not bothering to hide their grins, and introduced themselves.

“Hello, girls.” He looked more polished tonight, clean-shaven, the dark red shirt under his black leather jacket accentuating his skin. His hair was its usual tousled dirty blond. He was definitely older than us, I thought, but by how much I couldn’t tell.

Quinn cleared his throat, blue eyes shining. “Oh, I’m sorry. Everybody, this is Quinn,” Beck interjected.

“Hi, girls.” As he shook hands with the others and nodded specifically at Julia and I
. I racked my brain to remember if he had been at the bar last weekend.

“Are you joining us for the shots?” Annie piped up. They exchanged a look I couldn’t read then pulled up chairs, motioning to Jim for another two shots.

Beck turned to me. “How was your week?” I stared at him as if he spoke another language. At this point, I couldn’t remember today, much less the entire week.

Julia came to the rescue. “Very sedate. She studied the whole time on the third floor of the library.”

Beck cocked his head toward me with an inquisitive look. “What does that mean?” Clearly, he wanted some conversation from me.

I took another swig of beer. “If you go to the library to socialize, you hang around the first floor. If your goal is to see people and study, you go to the second floor. And if you’re really a recluse and study hard, you go to the third floor,” I answered.

“Ah.” He nodded in understanding. “So, you were studying?”

“No, more like avoiding rumors and keeping a low profile,” Annie answered, always the honest one.

I half-smiled at Beck. “It’s a small school. Everybody knows your business.” He didn’t press further, but his smile faded and a look of anger crossed his face.

“How was your week?” I asked, fiddling with the label on the beer bottle. I couldn’t keep looking at him. My heart pounded, and my voice shook.

He took a drink. “It was good. I did some studying, too.” His anger seemed to have passed, and his crooked smile returned.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Beck—Stop and Shop

Three hours later, we were still there. The empty bottles and shot glasses filled the table, but no one made a move to leave. The girls laughed as they regaled us with stories of their college antics. They fed the jukebox money, and, between Julia and Quinn, an eclectic bunch of music pumped out from the Rolling Stones and U2, to Lady Gaga, the Fray, and Snow Patrol. As one-thirty closed in on two, we were the only ones left. I listened as much as I could, but Wynter’s nearness captured more of my attention. She wore a gray flimsy sleeveless top with shiny beaded things on it, and jeans. A silver pendant in a script
W
hung from her neck, and small silver hoops graced her ears. Her laughter, throaty and full, mesmerized me. When her friends made fun of some of her exploits, she dipped her head forward, letting her blond hair fall around her face. It was endearing and beautiful all in one.

Quinn, meanwhile, enjoyed digging into all the stories. “So, let me get this right. You were so drunk you lay down in the middle of the path and people were stepping over you on the way into the party?” He asked, grinning from ear to ear. Wynter, completely embarrassed, dropped her head on her folded arms, hiding her face. “And you found her?” He pointed at Julia, who nodded.

“Yes, but I don’t drink straight shots of vodka anymore,” came the reply from within Wynter’s arm.

Quinn grinned. “I bet not.” He glanced over to see my reaction.

She lifted her head, eyes flashing. “At least I wasn’t on the dorm roof rolling around.”

Quinn whipped his head around. “Who did that?” They all turned to Annie.

She took a swallow of beer, leaned back, and answered. “It was a bet, and I won it fair and square.”

Galen leaned forward over the table. “Just so you know, we really are nice girls!”

“Oh, that’s okay. We don’t care. I just want to know about the bet,” Quinn answered. I wondered if he was thinking about the hundreds of people we had killed. Under orders or not, because of war or the good guys, we still took lives. At night, their faces kept me awake.

Just then, I heard Wynter’s stomach rumble. She pressed her hand to it, something she had done periodically throughout the night. “Are you okay?” I asked.

She shook her head. “I’m fine. It’s just sensitive.” She frowned, and I noted Julia looking at her.

“Do you want to get something to eat?” I asked. That’s what university kids did—drink and then eat. Even I knew that.

“Who’s going to drive?” Sophie asked.

“I can,” I answered. Wynter looked at me. “I’m fine,” I assured her. She glanced at the table, then back. “Really, I’m not drunk.”

She nodded, still staring. I wanted to tell her it was near impossible for me to get drunk, but I couldn’t explain why. They all started getting their coats on and finding gloves and hats.

“Will we all fit?” Wynter asked. She pulled her coat on, fiddling with the buttons. I hesitated then raised my hand to pull her hair out of the collar, but she freed it before my hand made it there. She smiled up at me, and my heart ricocheted wildly. I reminded myself that this was not what I was after.

“I think so,” I managed to say.

***

Galen and Sophie opted to cab it back to campus, so it was the six of us. The girls piled in the back of the Jeep, laughing, their phones continuously beeping. I wished my eyesight extended behind me. I would have liked to have seen what they were texting. At one point, they actually spoke with Annie, whispering she hoped we weren’t serial killers disguised as nice guys. Quinn raised his eyebrows at me, obviously amused.

The girls chose the Stop and Shop Supermarket, scattering like bullets once through the doors, each going in search of their craving. Quinn followed Annie, intent on hearing the rest of the bet story.

Wynter wandered down the bakery section with Julia, where they began stuffing muffins into a bag, discussing the merits of bran versus corn while they did so.

She turned to me. “Aren’t you getting anything?” I shook my head, knowing I had no business playing in this girl’s world, trying to concentrate on why I was here. It was pointless. I wanted her naked in my bed.

Julia elbowed Wynter and whispered, “That’s why he looks so good. I bet he’s got really nice abs. See you at the checkout.” And then she was gone, leaving Wynter and I alone. She meandered down the aisle, pausing at the donuts. Just watching her drove me crazy. I wanted to turn her around and run my fingers through her hair and cup her face and kiss her long and soft, feel her body in my arms. I caught up with her and grazed past her, touching her hand lightly as if by accident. The heat from her skin was like an electric shock. She brushed me back as she headed toward the checkout.

I paused down the next aisle, trying to catch my bearings. I was getting in too deep. We were irrevocably separated by who we were; it didn’t matter that we met in that place.

I grabbed a Pepsi at the checkout counter and drank the entire bottle as we waited, trying to occupy my mind and body with anything other than her.