Chapter 6
Chapter Six
BAILEY
Ishoulder through the door to Deja Brew, running a few minutes late to meet the parents. By the time I’d woken up this morning, I’d needed to jerk off after a night of sexy dreams about a certain sexy jock.
When people spoke about Chad Doomsen, I’d been expecting a loud, obnoxious dude-bro, not some adorable monster with sweet eyes and pretty words. It might have all been an act, but if it was, it was a damn good one.
I push the thoughts of last night away, and I make my way toward my parents’ table.
Deja Brew is one of those alt-looking, hipster, wanna-be-cool places that I used to act allergic to, but even I can’t complain about the coffee. Plus, once Mom sets her mind to something, there’s no arguing with her.
My parents are waiting in a shadowy nook at the back, sitting in overstuffed armchairs and bickering happily about something. It’s a thing they do. Bicker. Never an argument, just a constant back-and-forth discussion of opinion, which for some reason they enjoy.
Neither of them sees me approach, so when I reach the table, I lean down close to Dad’s ear and …
“Hey!”
He jumps about a foot as I pull out the chair opposite them.
“You’ll give me a heart attack one day, Bailey, I swear.”
“Got you good that time.”
“Yeah, yeah, smart-ass. You’re lucky we already ordered or you’d be getting your own.”
Mom laughs at us both, and I love hearing that sound. The cancer scare was a real worry for a moment there, and I want to wash away the memories of her sick with as many happy ones as I can.
“Here you go.” I hand her a mason jar full of cookies that I bought from a bake sale on campus.
Every time we meet, I aim to bring something different.
Anything small that will make her smile.
Last time was a pen with googly eyes, the time before chocolates, the time before a blend of tea I know she likes.
“You have to stop spoiling me so much.” But she reaches eagerly for the jar and takes one before offering them to Dad and me.
“You’ll spoil your lunch,” Dad says affectionately.
She shrugs and sets the cookies beside her. “How has this week been?”
I wrinkle my nose. “Is ‘weird’ an adequate answer?”
“Only if you’re planning on elaborating.”
“Okay then, I’ll go with fine.”
“Ouch.” Dad cringes. “That bad, huh?”
“Not … bad.” I don’t think that’s the word I’d use to describe last night. “Just Greek dynamics.”
“None of those boys are being assholes to you, are they?”
Trust Dad to jump straight to protective mode.
If he could protect me from everything, he would.
“No, nothing like that. Charles might have pointed out that I need to make more of an effort with the brothers, but that was fair.” I rub my arm as I glance around the busy cafe.
“It’s more that they want me on board with this rivalry thing, and I’m not comfortable with—”
Holy shit. Chad is here.
He cuts through the crowded room with the confidence of someone who expects people to notice him. He’s over six foot, so he’s hard to miss, but add that to his enormous frame and he stands out like a beacon. I have no idea how I didn’t see him sooner.
“Bailey?”
I blink and turn back to see Mom and Dad waiting. “Ah …”
“Not comfortable with …?” Dad prompts.
Where was I going with that? My legs start bouncing under the table, and my mind wanders to whether Chad’s seen me and is ignoring my presence like I should be doing to him.
“I’m not sure what to do. To make friends, I’m going to have to join in, but the whole thing is stupid to me.” I haven’t even shown anyone the lamp yet.
“You’re like a little old man,” Mom says. “Sometimes stupid things are fun. It’s all harmless, right? No one gets hurt or takes it too far?”
“Well, no.”
“Then embrace your final year. Stop limiting yourself.”
Dad nods, agreeing for once. “When you start working next year, there won’t be time for goofing off.”
“I have never goofed off, and I don’t plan on starting n—”
“Bailey?”
Before I even get a chance to look up at Chad’s voice, his hand clips the Iced Mocha he’s placed on the table, and I’m hit with a deluge of icy, chocolatey sludge down the front of me.
I shoot to my feet. “Shit.”
“Oh, fuc—I mean, shi—damn.” He grabs a wad of napkins and shoves them my way, but I wave him off without a word, turn on my heel, and leg it to the bathroom.
The drink is seeping through my shirt and freezing the front of me, and I have to ignore the stares of just about everyone in the cafe before darting down the short hall and ducking into the bathroom. Someone walks out as I enter, thankfully leaving the room vacant.
Until the door shoves open a second later and Chad all but barrels in after me.
“I’m so fucking sorry.”
“Uh-huh.” I flick on the tap and lean forward, holding my shirt under the water. “So you’re going to try and tell me that wasn’t some stupid retaliation for last night.”
“What? No. You really think I’d do that?”
“Considering the little I know of you has been relayed to me by my brothers, I’d say that would be right on brand with the impression I’ve built up.”
“Ah.” He shoves his hands in his pockets. “I guess that would be enough to make you hate me. No wonder you ran out so fast last night.”
I finally glance up at him and find his steady brown eyes trained on me. “We both know why I ran out.”
“Actually, I think I’m confused about that. Sure the situation was sucky, but we’d already crossed all sorts of lines. No reason we couldn’t have gone further and not told anyone.”
I turn off the tap and inspect my shirt. Thankfully it’s not a good one, but it doesn’t look like it’s stained anyway. Now it’s just dripping wet, and when I wring it out, it wrinkles like old lady hands.
“Here.” Chad grabs my arm and drags me back into the hall and down to a door marked “employees only.”
“Where are we …”
“Those bathrooms only have hand towels. The staff one has a dryer—you can hold your shirt under it.”
Well, okay, that’s a smart idea. I guess. “Thought of that quickly.”
“There’s not a whole lot of room behind the counter, so when we get busy, we run into each other a lot. I’ve worn a drink or two in my time here.”
I eye what he’s wearing. From the soft gray T-shirt with the Deja Brew logo to the black apron that looks miniature on his frame. “I’m not surprised you get in people’s way. You look like you’re going to Hulk out of that apron.”
“Yeah, the uniforms weren’t made with someone like me in mind.”
And yet … the shirt pulls nicely over his muscles, and the tight, black skinny jeans hug his ass sinfully.
He pauses. “Are you checking out my butt?”
“Of course not.”
“Yeah you were.”
I shake my head. “Are all Sigmas this conceited?”
“Varying levels, sure. But you were definitely checking me out.” Chad nudges me through a door into a room with a toilet, sink, and hand dryer. The door closes, trapping us in the small space. “Shirt?”
I tug it over my head and hand it to him; then he holds it under the air, and the thunderous old hand dryer comes to life. I have to lift my voice to be heard over it. “For the record, you had a mark on your pants.”
“In the butt area?”
“Obviously. You must have sat on something.”
Chad snorts. “Right. Yeah. I’ll believe that never.”
“I think you want me to have been checking you out.”
“It’d make us even.” His gaze drops to my torso. “Didn’t realize you had freckles on your shoulders too.”
I almost roll my eyes as I lean back against the wall. “You done?”
He pretends to feel the shirt. “Not even close.”
“How convenient.”
Silence drops between us for a second.
“It really wasn’t on purpose,” Chad says.
“Okay.”
“Yeah?”
“In your defense, you did look surprised.”
“I was,” he agrees. “And I’m half-asleep, so I’ve been messing up everything today.”
“Will you get in trouble for not being out there helping?”
“After my boss saw me dump a drink on a customer?” He waves a large hand. “No way. Plus, she totally loves me.”
“And there’s that conceit again.”
“No, it’s true.” He chuckles. “All the old chicks love me.”
“You clearly don’t call them old chicks to their faces, then.”
“I’m not an idiot. They do love it when I call them ma’am though.”
“Ma’am?” I can’t stop from smiling at the thought of his big dopey ass calling someone ma’am. “Well, don’t you have the manners of a saint?”
“Only at work.” He hands back my shirt that’s now warm from the heat and only a bit damp.
Before I can put it back on, Chad’s hand is on my hip, and he tugs me close so his lips are by my ear.
“If you’d stuck around last night, you would have seen how bad my manners could be.”
Holy shit. Lust prickles at my skin, and I force myself to swallow before I turn my head to meet his eyes. “I’m good at getting guys to say please.”
“I would have said anything you’d asked me to. I still might.” His gaze drops to my lips, and I have a split moment of indecision.
On one hand, Chad can kiss. Like, really kiss. And he is so fucking hot, I’d drop my damn panties just by him looking at me.
On the other hand, there are hundreds of other guys who would be a way safer hookup option and won’t make my life more complicated than it needs to be.
I step away from him, and his fingers drop from my skin. “Thanks for doing this.”
He straightens, and I ignore his obvious disappointment. “And thanks for not getting me fired.”
“I don’t think I agreed to that yet.”
He groans. “What’s it gonna cost me?”
I pretend to think. “Maybe another big-ticket item from your house …”
“What?” He’d look outraged if he wasn’t smiling. “You already got my lamp.”
“Yeah, why didn’t you stop me with that?”
“Ah … You left too quickly.” His stilted words make it impossible to believe him.
“I’ll remember that for next time.”
“Next time?”
But I’m not going to clarify what I mean by that when I can leave him curious. It has nothing to do with me not knowing what I mean. “For now, I’ll settle with you replacing my drink.”
“Consider it done.”
He leaves me in the hall to make my way back to the table, and when I reach my parents, he’s already back behind the counter.
“Are you smiling?” Mom asks as I take my seat.
“Nope.”
“I was expecting anger,” Dad says helpfully. “This definitely isn’t anger.”
I shake my head at him. “Chad didn’t do it on purpose. I’m fine.”
Mom hums, looking back over at Chad, who’s started back in our direction. “I’m sure it has nothing to do with how cute that guy is …”
And I’m glad she stops talking immediately because there’s no way in hell I want him overhearing that my mom thinks he’s cute. Urg.
When he reaches us, he turns a charming smile on the table.
“I’m so sorry for interrupting your lunch,” he says, sliding my drink back down and thankfully not upending it this time.
“I brought these as an apology, sir.” He slides a tart in front of Dad and a heart-shaped brownie in front of Mom. “Ma’am.”
I choke as Mom melts.
“That was very kind of you.”
Dad nods. “You know Bailey?”
“Ah, yeah.” Chad shifts, and the slight splotchy blush that hits his cheeks might as well be screaming at my parents that he had his tongue down my throat last night. “I see him around at frat parties …”
“Oh, you’re in a fraternity too?” Mom asks. “Which one?”
“Sigma Beta Psi.” I swear he puffs out his chest.
Dear lordt.
Dad’s attention drops from him, back to me, and a shrewd look crosses over his face. “Interesting.”
“Wait.” Mom points at us both. “That’s the fraternity yours doesn’t like, right?” Her question is for me, but she’s looking at Chad.
He answers before I can. “No big deal. Mostly history by this point.”
“It was nice meeting a friend of Bailey’s.”
His gorgeous smile is back on his stupidly gorgeous face. “Nice meeting you too.” He meets my eyes. “See you around.”
Then he crosses the cafe with more of that same confidence from earlier, only pausing at a table full of women to laugh with them over what happened.
“Isn’t he sweet …” Mom says, not even trying to keep her unasked question to herself.
“I barely know him.”
“At least now we know why you’re so resistant to the rivalry.” Dad’s looking entirely too smug. They both are.
“Fine. Maybe we kissed before we realized who the other person was. That’s it. A drunken five minutes, and seeing him now is literally the extent of our relationship. Now can you please have the decency to go back to lunch and pretend that whole thing never happened?”
I’m not exactly shy when it comes to talking to my parents about my personal life, but adult or not, it isn’t the funnest conversation to have. Especially when the kiss in question preceded a night of disappointment.
They reluctantly agree—but not before they tell me how Chad seems like such a nice boy—and for a few minutes, I’m able to put him out of my mind while we catch up.
It’s not until we’re on the way out the door and pass Chad bent over wiping a table that I get an eyeful of his firm, muscular ass and have to question my sanity on putting a stop to our hookup.
“You’re doing it again …” he taunts.
This time I can’t even deny it.