27. Nolan
Nolan
W e anticipated winning tonight’s game, but we managed to blow them out of the water. The sweetness of the victory remains out of my grasp as I anticipate my conversation with Hadley.
“Are we going out?” Lenny asks, sitting on the bench beside my locker as I finish grabbing my belongings.
“I’m heading home,” I say.
“Hey,” Hudson says, stopping in front of me. “We should talk.”
“Now?”
He nods, looking in both directions before he blows out a long breath. “Ethan was who gave Hadley and Hannah the cookies.”
I’m on my feet in a second, anger my only emotion, retribution my only thought.
“He’s not here,” Hudson says, moving to put a hand on my shoulder.
“Where in the hell is he?”
“On a flight headed for Michigan. Kreuger and I chose to send him home, pending a decision from the board.”
I shake my head, trying to make sense of what he’s telling me. “When did you find out?”
“This morning. I got a call after they came in here and your sister clocked him.”
“So you and Grey came by so I wouldn’t be here?” I see red as I stare at one of my closest friends.
“It was my call,” Palmer says, stepping forward. “Hudson was down in Krueger’s office. Corey and I heard yelling and came. Lenny hauled Ethan down to the offices, and Corey and I got Hadley and your sister out of here and I told Grey to stall you.”
“It was my decision, too,” Hudson says. “I knew in a reverse situation; I wouldn’t be able to think or anything else but react.”
I shake my head. “That’s bullshit, and you know it. If someone wronged Evelyn—drugged her while out at a fucking party—and I took away your chance for justice, you would be burning the streets down right now, hunting for the mother fucker.”
Hudson swallows but doesn’t object. He can’t because we both know I’m right.
I shake my head, my thoughts spinning, nothing making sense as I face my friends. “I have to go.”
“Where are you going?” Lenny asks.
“Home.” I slam my locker shut and turn, my anger too vivid and loud to consider anything but the idea of driving all night until I reach Michigan. Somehow, I steer my truck home.
Katie, Hannah, and Hadley are on the couch. Hannah’s face is red and blotchy from crying.
“Can we talk?” I ask Hadley. I don’t miss the glare Katie shoots me.
She nods, slipping out from the blanket that’s across their laps, and following me outside. I was going to choose the basement, but since Katie’s already giving me warning looks, I figure it’s best not to poke the bear.
“You should have told me.”
Hadley slows to a stop, her face pinched with inquisition. “I’m guessing someone else did?”
I nod. “After the game they did.”
She winces. “I’m sorry.”
“You’re sorry? I fucking trusted him here with you guys. Trusted him when he went out with us.” I shake my head. “You should have told me last night. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Even high, I knew telling you was a bad decision.”
My temper flares as my gaze snaps to her. “Bad decision? What in the hell’s that supposed to mean? I would have made him pay for what he did.”
Hadley nods. “I know.”
“I can’t believe you went there by yourself to—”
“Katie went with me. And it was my revenge to have.”
I shake my head. “That’s bullshit. He drugged you. Who knows what else he might have done—might have tried doing.”
Defiance shines in her eyes. “I wasn’t about to risk my pride for your future.”
“Fuck that. It wasn’t just your pride; it was your goddamn safety he put at risk. What if some other guy touched you?”
“Because you’re the only one allowed to touch me? Where do these casual lines intersect with friendship? Because you being jealous, you caring about another guy touching me—I don’t know what’s casual and what’s friendship anymore.”
“Of course, it’s not fucking casual. We passed casual the first damn time you said my name, and we fucking destroyed it the first time we slept together. That day you became mine and I became yours.
“When Luke looks at you, I want to piledrive him. I hate that he has the time to dedicate to you the way you deserve. And I hate him even more because he’s the nice guy, the guy your parents would like and want you to be with who would save the whole goddamn world and I’m the asshole without direction or purpose who would watch the world fucking burn to save you. ”
Hadley shakes her head once, then grabs my sweatshirt and in my next breath, she’s kissing me. I wrap my hands around her, pulling her closer. Her chest presses flush against mine, the softness of her an addiction I already know won’t ever be satisfied.
A groan builds in my throat, that has me slanting my mouth over hers, kissing her harder, memorizing every breath, every moan, every touch until I lose myself in her and the moment.
She rakes her fingers down my chest, and I understand full well how her skin feels the same burn mine does, desperate to feel her body against my own.
“I need to be inside of you,” I say, catching the lobe of her ear between my teeth.
Hadley groans and nods. “Yes. Let’s go to your dorm. Here might be a little weird.” She pulls back a fraction, hands still pressed to my chest. “I kind of told Katie this morning—told her I have feelings for you.”
Feelings of exhilaration and of being worthy, twist in my gut, making me feel a foreign pang of nerves. “How’d she take that?”
“Better than I expected.” Hadley stares at me for long seconds. “I applied to Camden because the guy I was dating wanted to come here.”
I pull my head back a fraction, surprised by her admission, but not at all shocked by the jealousy that has me gritting my teeth. “What happened?”
“He wants to be the governor one day, and then a senator, and eventually run for president. He has his whole life planned out, and he was talking about me being with him, going on campaign trails and fundraising events, and having two kids and a dog by the time we were thirty—it all felt so constrictive, and I already have so much in my life that is known that I didn’t want to have everything else planned out for me. ”
“That’s because you’ve got a wild streak, Cutlass.”
“Or I just really hate public speaking.”
I grin, slipping my hand around her lower back and pulling her closer, our hips touching. “He wasn’t the right one for you.”
I’m fucking praying that guy is me.