Chapter 3 #2
Killian narrows his eyes at me. “Your girl?”
Ignoring Killian and Preston’s intense gazes, I hook my arm around Shannon’s back and lead her out of the house where the air already feels lighter. Just being away from my friends helps me to relax.
“I didn’t mean it like that,” I say to Shannon, releasing my grip on her. “I was just trying to—”
She holds out her hand to stop me. “I know. No worries, okay? This isn’t a date. Just two friends having breakfast together.”
Letting out the breath of air I was holding, I mutter, “Right. Let’s go eat. I’m starving.”
“Yeah, me too. My stomach has been growling since I woke up.”
Even at this hour, drunk people crowd the street, stumbling out of houses occupied by the sports teams on campus.
Beer cans and trash are littered across every lawn.
The old Victorian houses, despite their pristine shine, look a hot mess.
Weekends are the worst around here. It doesn’t hurt that the fraternities and sororities are one block over from us.
Greek Row is already alive, the soft hum of rock music filling the air.
When we reach the end of the on-campus housing, we cross over Broad Street to the coffee shop. Broad Street Beans is a staple at Strickland University.
“Was Jordan pissed when you got home?”
Shannon shakes her head. “No, not really. Thank God.” I can hear the relief in her voice. “She said the dry cleaner could remove the stain no problem. I hope that’s true. Her dress cost a fortune that I don’t have.”
Last night, right before Shannon went home, I accidentally spilled the rest of my beer on her dress. She looked so panicked I wasn’t sure what to do other than offer to have it cleaned.
“Let me pay for it… since it was my fault.”
She peeks up at me from beneath her light brows, green eyes fixed on me. “That’s sweet of you to offer, Jamie. But you don’t have to do that.”
Money is tight for Shannon. She’s good at hiding the fact she doesn’t fit in with the girls in her sorority.
It’s not that she doesn’t look the part of a Kappa girl because she does, but most of her sisters have trust funds like my friends and me.
Scholarship kids are rare at Strick U. Jordan has made it easier for Shannon to conceal the truth.
I’m one of the few people outside of her inner circle who knows she commutes to campus.
“If you insist,” I lie, intending to call Jordan after I take Shannon home to tell her to send the dry cleaning bill to me.
My dad grew up so poor he never knew if or when he’d eat.
Now that he’s a self-made tech billionaire, he gives back in any way he can.
I have the largest trust fund of all my friends, and an actual empire to share with my siblings.
Sometimes, I feel a little guilty for having so much while others struggle.
It’s not that Shannon is a charity case, but some people just need a little help to make their life easier.
I open the door for Shannon, and when I step inside, the scent of brewed coffee and pastries baking fill my nostrils.
“Yum.” Shannon licks her lips. “Smells so good in here.”
I place my hand on her shoulder and guide her toward the line forming in front of the counter. “I bet you’re used to this, working at the bakery.”
“Yeah, I love working at Rizzo’s. Mrs. R lets me make anything I want.”
Shannon works part time at an Italian bakery in South Philly. She can cook her ass off.
“If you’re so good at baking, then how come you didn’t go to cooking school instead?”
She shrugs, staring up at the menu board posted on the wall behind the counter. “I don’t know. I thought about it. But my dream is to own a bakery. I figured I should learn how to run a business first.”
“The food industry has the highest turnover rate. Most of those businesses fail.” She frowns, and now I feel like shit for telling her the truth. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be such a downer. It’s just that I read—”
She presses her index finger to my lips to silence me. “Shhh… you think too much, Jamie.”
I clutch her hand, rubbing my thumb along her soft skin, and she slowly removes her finger from my mouth. Our eyes meet, the fire behind her green irises blazing. She has that look, the one my father mentioned at the conference over the summer, and it scares the shit out of me.
An awkward beat passes between us. She’s right about my overthinking.
My brain does most of the talking for me.
Well, technically, it does all the talking for me if you want to get scientific.
Oh my God, what’s wrong with me? I need to get out of my head.
I live there so often, it’s hard to reel it back.
After I order for us and we take a seat by the window, I peel back the paper covering my breakfast sandwich while watching Shannon as she sips her cappuccino.
She’s gorgeous, and the more I stare at her, I wonder why I waited this long to get closer to her.
No one has ever made me feel this… comfortable.
Around Shannon, I can be myself. I never have to hide from her.
The walls I resurrected around others come down when I’m with her. And that scares me.
Shannon picks at a chocolate muffin, stuffing bits into her mouth. She stares out the window to my right, her eyes so big and bright they illuminate her face.
“Remind me to grab a scone for Killian before we leave,” I say.
Her eyes find mine, a smile crossing her lips. “He’ll haunt me if I forget.” She chuckles, taking another sip from the mug. “Killian sits next to me in my Financial Management class. He reminds me so much of my little brother who’s always annoying me.”
“He probably likes you,” I confess. “Guys do stupid shit when they like girls.”
She rolls her eyes. “Ugh, please don’t say that. I like Killian, but not in that way.”
“How come I’ve never seen you with anyone on campus?”
Shannon gives me a confused look. “I’m with you right now. On campus.”
I laugh it off. “You know what I mean. With a guy.”
“Oh.” She tips the mug to her lips to avoid my question. “Um…”
“You don’t have to answer if it’s personal.”
She shakes her head. “No, it’s okay. I don’t know. I just never connected with anyone at this school. I don’t have a lot in common with people who have enough money to buy every house on the block where I live.”
“What about me?”
She chuckles, reaching across the table to cover my hand with hers. “You’re different, Jamie. No one at Strick U is like you.”
“I hope that’s a good thing.”
She squeezes my hand, her long nails painted a dark shade of pink sliding along my skin. “It’s a very good thing. Some students here are so… vapid.”
I laugh. “Interesting word choice.”
Shannon shrugs, holding up her hands with a cute smile tugging at her plump lips that I can’t stop thinking about. “I don’t know how else to describe some of these people. But you’re not like them.”
I wink. “Good to know. At least I’m not vapid.”
She laughs, moving her hand back to the other side of the table, and I already miss her warmth.
“Want to know something ridiculous?” she asks. I lean forward, holding her gaze, and she continues, “I have to dance on a bar this weekend for money.”
“You?” I point a finger at her. “I can’t see you dancing for money.”
“It’s true. All the sororities on campus are part of this dance competition at The Sixth Floor. Abby takes this shit seriously. She uses the pretense that the money goes to charity as an excuse to embarrass us all.”
Abby Gale is the president of Kappa Delta and the coldest, most miserable bitch I’ve ever met. She puts Cece to shame, and that’s saying a lot.
“I’m sure she does.” I stuff the last of my sandwich into my mouth. “At least it’s for charity.”
“You know the Greeks.” She sighs. “We have a philanthropic quota to meet. We’ve won the award every year. Abby takes pride in that fact.” A quick pause passes between us before she adds, “When is your next home game?”
I smirk. “Why? You going to come watch me play for once?”
She snorts. “I’ve seen you play before.”
“When?” I challenge.
“I saw you score against Penn State last year.”
My mind drifts back to that game, and I’m surprised she still remembers when I almost forgot. We barely won that game. The last second flick of my wrist saved our team.
Digging my elbows to the table, I lean forward. “You should come next weekend.”
She finishes her cappuccino and sets the cup on the saucer with a loud clang. “I will if you come to watch me dance this weekend.”
I stretch my hand across the table, waiting for her to shake it. “Deal.”
“You’re a weird one, Jamie.” She shakes my hand. “But I like you.”
I like her, too. A lot, actually.
“Same,” I mutter.
Shannon pulls her hand back, and her gaze intensifies.
I feel like this weekend was the first time I saw her, like really noticed her.
How did she fly so far under my radar when she was right in front of me the entire time?
Because I was too obsessed with Cece. She’s an addiction I’ve never been able to kick.
Maybe Shannon can help me move on from her.
“When was the last time you had a home-cooked meal?”
Her question takes me by surprise. “Um… not sure. Why?”
“I want to cook for you.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I want to.” Smiling, she taps her long nails on the table. “By the looks of your house, I think your teammates could use a decent meal, too.”
I laugh. “What makes you say that?”
“Your living room was a wreck and had old beer bottles and bags of open Doritos on the table. It’s a full-blown bachelor pad.”
I do my best to keep the house from falling down and constantly have to clean up after everyone. Preston helps a lot, and his bitching at everyone all the time doesn’t hurt. We’re like the parents of the team. Kinda sad when I think about it.
“You sure you want to cook for my entire house? Do you have any idea how much food you will need to make?”
“I worked for a catering company in high school.” She winks at me. “I have an idea.”
“You really don’t have to do that, Shan. We can make do with what we have.”
“Jamie,” she groans. “I know you well enough to know that you will pay for Jordan’s dress, even though it’s my responsibility. So, let me do this for you. Okay?”
“Fine,” I concede. “But let me buy the food.”
She frowns. “Fine. I’ll text you a list.”
“What are you making for us?”
She bites the inside of her cheek, thinking it over. “Do you like surprises?”
“I don’t dislike them.”
“Then it will be a surprise. Is Thursday night okay? I have to work first and then I can come over.”
“Yeah. We have hockey practice in the afternoon. Everyone should be home after that.”
“Good.” Shannon smiles so wide it reaches up to her green irises. “You can help me cook.”
The one thing I can’t do…