18. Vaughn
CHAPTER 18
VAUGHN
I probably shouldn’t have acted like a middle schooler and left actual pee in her room, but she was so combative! And refused to listen to any of my reasoning of what happened all those years ago. Tru was acting like she had no part in betraying me and shattering my heart into a million pieces! It was complete bullshit, so yeah, I lost my temper, but I really did have to pee. How hard is human decency? Most of the time, I want to punch my roommates, but I’d still bow out so they don’t shit themselves outside the bathroom!
The more I thought about it, the angrier I became. Then again, it wasn’t just her. It was all the shit with my parents, grad school, and the looming sex bet that I thought was a good idea to get a rise out of her.
God, imagine us even attempting to have sex.
She’d straight up chop my dick off without hesitation and smile while doing it.
Fuck.
I checked my phone. For once, she was late.
Interesting.
When she did show up, she tossed her books onto the table in the most aggravated way and pulled out a pencil. “Moving on to organic chem.”
The class I was actually doing good in? “Yeah, I don’t need your help with chemistry. It’s simple math and science in a tiny little boring bottle.”
She cleared her throat and looked down at the study sheet. “I was told to be thorough.”
I choked out a laugh. “By the tutoring gods? Seriously, I’m doing good in?—”
“Your dad called the dean. You need to have an A in organic chem to get into grad school.”
I shot to my feet and slammed my hands on the table. “Are you fucking kidding me right now?”
She pinched the bridge of her nose and stared down at the sheet. “Can we just get through this? I was assigned to you, and you very kindly paid off all my other students, so you’re all I have right now. Sit your ass down and let’s just survive.”
That was what I’d been doing my whole life.
Surviving.
Poor little rich kid, must be so hard.
No. You know what was hard? Waking up one day and hearing your dad tell one of his business partners that having kids was just something you did, another notch in the good old belt and that a kid's only job was to make their parents proud and to listen. To get in line and say thank you.
I still remember how fucking excited I was when my dad finally hugged me after winning State, only to turn toward a reporter for a picture. The hug was maybe a few seconds. But pictures lasted forever. He talked about that picture to strangers more than he ever talked about it to me, and when or if he ever did bring it up, it was to tell me that I’d lost weight and needed to bulk up more.
I couldn’t win.
What was the point even anymore? Dark, vivid thoughts flashed through my brain in ways that had me clenching my teeth. “I think we should cancel today.”
“Vaughan…” She finally met my eyes. “I’m trying the best I can.”
“So am I,” I snapped. “I hate him.”
She scooted her chair over. The tension between us was so thick I couldn’t figure out if it was because of my own embarrassment and anger or the situation between Tru and me. So much shit was going through my head I didn’t even realize it when she scooted her chair even closer until her thigh was pressed against mine. What was happening?
“I’m not consoling you.” She tapped her pen.
“Good. Because I refuse all further consoling.”
“Fine.” Her thigh pressed even harder against mine. “The admin for tutoring is watching.”
I snorted. “Probably taking pictures for my dad. I wouldn’t put it past him to ask for actual proof.”
She flinched next to me. “Just look down at the paper and attempt not to snarl or cuss me out, and we’ll get through it.”
“That’s the fucking problem, Tru. I shouldn’t have to get through it.”
“Life isn’t fair, Vaughan. Suck it up. The minute you start feeling sorry for yourself is the minute you start caving in and believing all the lies people say about you and more importantly the ones you say about yourself. Now do the damn chemistry so you can angry fuck me later.”
I laughed at that. “Wow, do you really think that’s my only motivation here?”
Her hand slid up my thigh. “God, I can’t believe I’m doing this. It’s like I’ve lost my mind. Thanks for the pee bottle, by the way. I have a gift for you at home too.”
Home. I liked the sound of that. “Oh? Is it that nurse outfit we talked about?”
“No, it’s one of your phobias.”
I frowned. “Being trapped in small spaces?”
She pressed her lips together and shrugged. “Who knows? See? Let’s focus on the darkness that awaits you.”
I shook my head and looked down at the paper. “I can’t really focus on anything right now other than the fact that my dad is a controlling dickhead, and I need to get drafted.”
“Focus.” She nodded. “Focus. I hate you so much for making me do this. Know that this is not fun for me, and I’m only doing this because I know you too well—unfortunately.”
“Huh?” What the hell sort of language was she speaking?
She stood and grabbed her stuff angrily, shoving everything in her bag before leaning down and pointing at me with her pen. “Level four, ancient history, be there in two minutes.”
Level four of the library?
What the hell was up there, and why were we studying ancient history?
She didn’t give me a chance to ask any questions when she went over to the stairs. I slowly gathered my things and walked up the stairs. My brain was a blur of rage and anger still at my dad, and if I was being totally honest—disappointment and sadness. I’d never been the guy to ask the question if anyone in the world actually loved me.
No dad should ever make his son question that.
In my existence, the only person who had ever seen me and stood by my side was the one who walked away. My dad said once you were used to abandonment, it was in your nature to abandon others.
She left me.
My dad deceived me.
And I was still dealing with collateral damage.
I finally made it to the top of the fourth level and walked over to where the sign said ancient history. Huh, poetic or just a really bad reminder? Tru stood with her back facing me at the very end of one of the dark aisles. Actually, why was it so dark up there? It was almost serene. Lights flickered on one side while the ones where she stood were completely out.
Her bag was set aside by the shelves.
Frowning, I slowly approached her. “Are we switching study spots?”
She squeezed her eyes shut and opened them. “I know you.”
I slowly nodded my head. “Yes, I’m very aware that you know me. You know a lot. What’s the point? Or are we just trying to dodge people watching us?”
“You won’t focus the rest of the day, not on tutoring or math. You always need a singular focus. It’s why you always wore a hairband on your wrist. When I first met you, I thought it was because you literally had so many hookups you actually brought a ponytail holder for the end of the night when the girls either puked their guts out in the toilet and you didn’t want to hold their hair or so they could tie it back when you had sex.”
“Nice.” I rolled my eyes.
“But…” She took a deep breath, and the hum from the flickering lights filled the space around us. She slowly backed away from me, deeper into the darkness. “It was so you could focus. You’d snap it on your wrist when you were reading. You’d do the same when practicing with friends, and when you were with your dad, you broke multiple rubber bands on your wrist to the point that you had a mark most days.”
She’d noticed all of that? “So?”
“For one minute, I’ll be your rubber band, and then I want you to focus on the worksheet and on practice. Alright? I’m not doing this because I feel sorry for you. I’m doing it for my own anxiety. I can’t sit next to you or exist next to you when I feel the darkness. You went to a dark place. I felt it.”
She always did see through my emotions, and I sometimes hated her for it. “I pulled back.”
“You’re still there,” she said gently.
“You know what? This is bullshit. Whatever voodoo you think you’re going to do to calm me down or make me stop thinking about my fucked-up life isn’t going to fucking?—”
She jerked me by the shirt. I stumbled against her so hard that we slammed backward against the wall, blanketed in utter darkness and the musty smell of old books.
“Don’t think,” she whispered. The kiss was slow and purposeful. It was both heat and release at the same time. My lips parted briefly before I clutched her by the face and tasted her. My only focus was her. Not my dad. Not football. Not the darkness.
It was her.
Her kiss gave me freedom.
And focus.
Her hands tangled in my hair while I lifted her into my arms and pressed her against the wall. Our mouths collided only to pull back and work together. The kiss was a reminder and a release, a cosmic demonstration of the way their bodies would always remember one another. Damning and forgiving all at once. The warmth of her breath mingled with mine, the way the silence was suddenly full of our mouths moving across one another’s.
Abruptly, she pulled back, our foreheads touching briefly before I gently set her back on her feet. “Better?”
Better and worse. How could I possibly answer that?
She pressed a hand to my chest, and my heart raced beneath the heat of her palm. “Focus. Get through today. And then get through tomorrow. Screw your dad, Vaughan. Also, this never happened. You’re still my enemy, and we won’t ever be friends.”
I cracked a smile. “You’re the devil of sexual torment. You understand that, right?”
She smirked and walked past me. “Hey, at least you aren’t thinking bad things anymore.”
“Oh, Cinderella, I’m thinking all of the bad things right now, and none of them involve you wearing any clothes.”
She picked up her bag and looked over her shoulder with a coy smile. “See? I win again. I have to admit it feels good. Oh, and I’d like…” She pointed at my dick. “Take care of that. It’s going to be distracting to the students. Then again, if they’re studying anatomy, it might be helpful.”
I grabbed a book and covered my dick, only to see her burst out laughing. “That’s a classic.”
“What?”
“ Moby Dick . Must be in the wrong place.” She shrugged and walked off, calling behind her, “See you later. Our session's done.”
No. It was just beginning.