Three
Holden
Monday morning comes far too quickly, and with it, another week of boring, monotonous classes we’re required to attend.
Honestly, I wouldn’t have even bothered with college at all if it weren’t for football—which is about the only thing I actually give a shit about.
And it shows when my grandmother harps on me about every chance she gets about dedicating more time to school than football—even all the way from California.
My phone vibrates in my palm as I cross the quad toward my history class, and when I check the display, I can’t help but laugh at the name of the person texting.
Gran: Don’t forget you need to pass your history exam this week to keep your playing eligibility this weekend.
A smile lifts the side of my mouth, and I shake my head. I swear, it’s like her ears start to ring whenever I think of her, let alone talk about her.
Me: Shouldn’t you be watching The Price Is Right instead of texting me?
Honestly, I’m not upset about her checking in on me. As my guardian after my parents passed, I’m sure it’s difficult for her to loosen the reins. Especially when I’m halfway across the country.
Gran: Don’t treat me like I’m some ancient, decrepit sack of bones. I can multitask.
Me: I wouldn’t want to take away your time with Drew.
Gran: And I wouldn’t want you to take too much time away from your studies.
I chuckle softly at her smooth redirection of the subject. She’s always been sly like that.
Me: I really shouldn’t have sent you the syllabus for all my classes.
Gran: Hindsight, my dear. Always 20/20.
Me: I’ve got it, I promise.
Gran: Good to hear it. I’d hate having to disown you for failing out of college.
I snort, knowing Hell would have to freeze over for either of those things to happen, and pocket my phone as I enter the auditorium.
I’m only a few rows down the steps, ready to take my seat in yet another dreadfully boring lecture about the French Revolution, when I catch a familiar face in my periphery.
One that, not more than seventy-two hours ago, could have buried me six feet deep with loathing alone.
It’s enough to have me sneaking a quick glimpse to confirm it’s him, and when I do, I find his dark eyes already staring at me.
How long has he been in this class?
He holds my gaze for a moment before breaking eye contact, opting to look back at his phone rather than give me another second of his attention.
It’s a quick, meaningless interaction by any standard.
Yet, after the major cock-blocking performance he did this weekend, it has a way of getting under my skin.
Which is why I do something ballsy. Even for me.
Rather than heading to my usual spot next to one of LU’s cheerleaders a few rows down, I make my way toward Phoenix and drop into the seat right beside him.
My sudden presence must startle him, making him yank his headphones from his ears at the same time those dark eyes lift again. Of course, the second he registers it’s me, they only fill with annoyance and disdain.
“Hey there, Nix. This spot taken?” I pluck the headphone from his fingers and go to put it in my ear. “Whatcha listening to?”
“Don’t call me that,” he says, grabbing the headphone back before shooting another glare my way. “And what’s the point of asking if it’s taken when you’re already sitting in it?”
“It’s called being polite.”
A dark brow arches. “Really? I’d call it being a douchebag.”
I let out a sharp laugh; he’s quick witted. “You really don’t like me, do you?”
He scoffs, the sound brimming with disinterest. “Thank you for the astute observation, Captain Obvious, but if that’s all, you can go now.”
The grin spreading over my face can’t be helped. Ruffling his feathers is fun. “Why would I go when I’m having such a great time pissing you off with my presence alone?”
“Because, unlike you, I actually plan to learn something in this class,” he snaps before jutting his chin toward where I normally sit. “So why don’t you go back to flirting and fucking your way through college and leave me alone?”
This time, it’s my brows that hitch up. “I’m just trying to have a conversation. No need to get so…prickly.”
“Before this weekend, you’ve been perfectly content with acting like I don’t exist.” His lip curls back in some mixture of anger and disgust. “Which was perfectly fine with me, so why have you suddenly flipped the status quo?”
“I figured we needed to have a little discussion after the party.”
“I said all I needed to say. And seeing as we have absolutely nothing in common to chat about, I think it’s safe for you to go now.”
“See, but that’s where you’re wrong, Nix.”
The muscle in his jaw ticks as he stares me down. “I told you not to call me that.”
I ignore his comment, opting to prove my point instead. “You see, I think we do have one thing in common. Kason.”
His eyes are hard, giving nothing away as his stare bores into mine. Yet, the more impenetrable he tries to look, the more he ends up giving away.
“What do you want with him?”
“Whoa, now. Put away the shotgun, Dad. ”
Phoenix’s eyes roll so hard, I’m surprised they don’t get stuck. “Funny, jackass, but excuse me for being protective. The last thing he needs after coming out is the likes of you using him for a night, only to drop him when you realize you’re ready to find the next notch in your bedpost.”
Spoken like someone who knows from experience, though I doubt Mr. Monogamous here has ever had a one-night stand in his life. Yet the tone of his voice and the fury in those dark eyes make me think maybe he’s had a night or two of regrets.
“First of all, you should know better than to project your own issues on Kason and me,” I chide, brow arched. “And B, what makes you think I’m only after sex with your bestie? Have you ever considered I might be interested in getting to know him for more than what lies behind his zipper?”
“Oh, please,” he snarls under his breath.
“Don’t act like you’re unaware of the reputation you’ve built over the past few years.
You’re the stereotypical playboy jock who screws anything that moves and refuses to commit to anyone for longer than a night.
Of course, I don’t want you anywhere near my best friend.
Any sane person would feel the same way. ”
Well, damn.
My hand comes over my heart, feigning hurt. “You wound me, Nix. Even if I’m as big of a fuckboy as you make me out to be, I’ve gotta have some redeeming qualities to make me worthy of your blessing.”
Those deep brown eyes finally meet mine, and there’s not an ounce of amusement in them. “Not any that I can see.”
This is proving to be far more difficult than I realized. Normally I’d cut my losses and just deal with his distaste—after all, I’ve never felt the need to be everyone’s cup of tea. Only, this interest in Kason will never be satiated if Phoenix continues cock-blocking me at every turn.
It’s that thought which sparks an idea of sorts, and I twist toward him.
“What if I proved to you I’m not after sex with him? If I truly date him, court him, whatever they called it in the 1950s. Would you approve, then?”
“You mean date him without getting in his pants?” When I nod, he lets out a low scoff and shakes his head. “There’s as much likelihood of that happening as turtles sprouting wings and learning to fly.”
“I think the saying involved pigs, actually.”
“Does it really matter?” he grits, fingers running through his hair. “Either way, we both know it’s not gonna happen. You dating my best friend or managing to stay out of his pants. Not if I have any say in it.”
My own irritation starts flaring as I lean back in my seat, letting out some mixture of a scoff and a laugh. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear you’re jealous or something.”
He gives nothing away, his eyes hard and nostrils flared as he stares me down in contempt.
The comment was a one-off, meant as a joke.
I mean…it has to be it. It’s the only thing that makes sense for this kind of adverse reaction to my interest in Kason.
After all, this is only the second time we’ve ever spoken—and he made his contempt for me evident the very first time we met only a few days ago.
There was no time for him to form any opinion on me, even if my reputation precedes me. And there’s no way it makes that much of an impact without him having some kind of stake in the game.
Jealousy is the only logical option at this point.
“That has to be it,” I say slowly, more to myself than him. “You don’t want me with Kason because you want him for yourself.”
Again, his expression gives nothing away. If anything, there’s a hint of confusion that adds to his response. “What the hell are you talking about?”
For a brief second, I’m wondering if I’m wrong, and maybe he really does just dislike me this strongly on principle alone.
“Look, you’ve got some unresolved feelings for your bestie. But let me give you a little piece of advice.” I lean in and whisper in his ear, “If he thought of you that way, getting with me would hold no interest to him.”
“You’re disgusting.”
He shoves me away and fixes his eyes at the front of the class, a clear sign he’s done with this conversation. Too bad for him, I’m not.
“Thou doth protest too much, Nixy.”
“And childish, apparently,” he mutters under his breath before adding, “I don’t have feelings for Kason. Even if I did, it was years ago, and that ship has long since sailed.”
Or you’ve been harboring the feelings for years without acting on them, only to see your time is running out.
“If you say so.”
“I do.” He chances a quick glance at me before whispering, “Now shut up and pay attention or go find a new fucking seat.”
And just because I know it’ll piss him off more, I mime zipping my lips and settle in beside him for the next ninety minutes, scrolling mindlessly through social media the entire time.