Bear
“How do you look like this,” I ask Becca, one hand sweeping over her ridiculous physique, “when you eat donuts like that.”
She bites off another hunk of the maple bacon donut she’s devouring, grinning at me as much as she can with her mouth still full.
Her eyes are shielded by round sunglasses, straight out of the seventies just like everything else about her, as we people watch on a bench in front of the fountain.
I leave for the Spring Break cruise tomorrow, and it’s my last chance to see her before I go.
On a shrug, she licks the frosting off her fingers and swallows. “Donuts don’t count as calories.”
“Tell that to the gut you’re going to give me if I continue eating them with you.” I pat my stomach — still hard as stone under my t-shirt.
She laughs. “Whatever. Pretty sure you could eat twice as many donuts as I do and not workout for three weeks and you’d still have that six-pack.”
“What makes you think I have a six-pack under here?” I lift a brow. “Not like you’ve seen.”
“Not like I haven’t tried to see,” Becca counters with a sassy head swivel. She opens up wide for the last bite, wiping her hands together and sending dry glaze all over the cement beneath us.
I don’t have anything to retort to that.
The fact that I’ve been dating Becca for almost two weeks now and we haven’t hooked up is a miracle.
The fact that she’s wanted to and I’ve insisted we wait is a goddamn oxymoron.
I’m Clinton Pennington — fucking is one of my favorite hobbies.
But, everything feels different with Becca, and after Shawna, I know how fast different can turn into gut-wrenchingly painful.
“You’ll see it soon enough.”
“Mm-hmm,” she grumbles, clearly not convinced.
“You will,” I promise. “Trust me, I want to do…” I shake my head, eyes roaming down her body and back up again.
She’s wearing a bright orange dress, modest at the top but so short I know just a few more inches would reveal everything I want to see.
“So many inappropriate things to you. But, I’ve never done slow before,” I confess.
“And, honestly, you’re the first girl I’ve wanted to try with. ”
At that, Becca smiles, nudging me with her shoulder. She doesn’t lean away again, but stays close, her skin as warm against mine as the sunshine. “Don’t think saying cute shit like that is going to get you out of banging me for very long.”
A laugh bursts out of me.
“I mean it,” she continues, poking me in the chest. “I want the goods.”
“Oh, you’ll get them.”
She crinkles her nose, pressing up on the bench until her lips meet mine.
That first touch is always overwhelming to every sense, and for a moment I’m paralyzed, just breathing and kissing the most beautiful girl in the world.
Then, my hands find her hair, and I pull her closer, realizing again how much I don’t want to let her go — not even for a short cruise.
When she pulls back, Becca’s eyes catch on something behind me, and she cringes. “Damn, poor girl.”
I turn, searching the courtyard until I spot a girl with a mess of shit at her feet — books, pens, highlighters, planners, a Diet Coke can — the contents of that sprayed all over everything else on the ground.
She huffs, letting her head fall back before dropping to her hands and knees.
And when she does, she pulls her hair over one shoulder, and my heart squeezes painfully in my chest.
Erin.
“I know her,” I murmur, carefully maneuvering until my arm is out from behind Becca’s shoulders. I hop up, jogging over to where Erin is still retrieving everything that fell from her bag.
“I’m fine, I’ve got it,” she says before even looking up, but I bend down anyway, working on the pens and highlighters as she stacks the papers.
Erin huffs, grimacing a little as she falls from her knees to her hip, grimacing a little as her skin scrapes against the sidewalk.
“I said, I’m—”
She stops when she sees it’s me, a glimmer of something passing over her as she takes me in. Her eyes graze my shoulders, my chest, before they land on my own eyes.
“Fine?” I finish for her. “I know. Erin Xanders is the queen of fine.”
She narrows her eyes at first, but then she smirks, covering her face with her hands as I continue picking up her stuff. “Ugh,” she groans. “Is it Spring Break yet?”
I laugh. “Almost. Here,” I say, handing her everything I’ve gathered. She shoves it into her bag, picking up the last book and forcing it inside, too. When I’m standing again, I hold out a hand, helping her upright.
“Thank you.”
I nod, tucking my hands in my pockets. And then we’re just standing there — me staring at her, her staring at me, and all I want to do is ask every question she still hasn’t answered.
I want to know if she’s gotten help, if she’s okay, if she’s even remotely close to the girl I once knew who looked like her and wore her name.
Something is wrong.
I know what Erin looks like when she’s hiding something, when she’s hurting — but this is different.
This is something deeper, another scar, another permanent mark on her that she’s trying to learn to wear with the same grace as she does her others.
The longer I watch her — the bags under her eyes, her nails chewed down to the nub, skin pale and slick — the more questions I have.
And she feels them.
Her cheeks flush, eyes skirting to the ground as she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m fine, Bear. Really. You can stop looking at me like a charity case.”
“I’m looking at you like a friend,” I correct her. “Don’t expect me to ever stop doing that.”
She peeks up at me through her lashes, her brows bent, but then her gaze draws to my left.
“Hey,” Becca says, sliding up beside me. Her arm wraps under mine, hand folding over my bicep as she eyes Erin curiously. “Everything okay?”
“Actually, you might want to take a picture and mark the date and time,” I say. “Not very often you catch Erin Xanders anywhere outside the lines of perfect, poised, on time, and put together.”
Erin laughs, shaking her head before reaching her hand out for Becca. “Hi, I’m Erin.”
“Becca,” she answers, eyes finding me before resting back on Erin. “Did you guys used to date or something?”
“Oh, God, no,” Erin says quickly, and my jaw tenses, though I can’t place the discomfort.
We didn’t date, but she doesn’t have to say it so sure, like it’s impossible to fathom.
“Erin is the president of Kappa Kappa Sigma,” I explain. “We’re friends.”
“That’s the sorority you’re going on Spring Break with, right?”
“It is,” I confirm, noting that Erin can’t stop staring at Becca. Her eyes sweep over every inch, and she shifts, tucking the strap of her messenger bag back in place.
“Yep,” she echoes. “And I’m late for my last final, so I better be going. I’ll see you tomorrow, Bear.” She won’t meet my gaze, barely glancing at me before she’s smiling back at Becca. “It was nice to meet you.”
And then she turns, strutting off in the same hurried fashion she always has.
I watch her go, a frustrated sigh leaving my lips before I turn back to Becca. She has her weight balanced on one hip, arms crossed, and one brow cocked as she peers up at me.
“Just friends, huh?”
“It’s complicated,” I try. “I promise, we never dated. But, we did hook up. Once.”
“Hmm.”
But instead of diving more into whatever the hell Erin and I were — are? — I take the chance to tease Becca.
“Wait…” I stroke my chin with my fingers and thumb, grinning. “Are you jealous?”
She shoves me in lieu of an answer, already storming back to our bench, but I grab her from behind and lift, crushing her into me with a classic Bear hug from behind.
“Put me down!” She laughs, pounding her little fists on my forearms. “Ugh, you’re so infuriating.”
“But how turned on are you right now?” I whisper against the skin of her neck.
That just earns me another punch.
When we’re back on the bench, Becca tells me about her plans for the week, and I kiss her goodbye just a short hour later, wishing she was going to be on the boat taking me to the islands tomorrow. But on my walk back to the house, it’s another girl on my mind.
One who maybe never left it in the first place.
I’ll have a whole week with Erin on this cruise, and one thing I know for sure is I’m done playing this I’m fine, I promise game. This week, I’ll get her to talk. She’s gone long enough shoving everyone away, and I won’t stand back and watch her deteriorate any longer.
This time, she’ll let me in.
I won’t take no for an answer.