12. Chapter 12 #2
By the time I sit on the edge of the couch and bend to lace my sneakers, the sun has dipped behind a low curtain of clouds.
It’s still sweltering out, but it’s bearable for the first time all day.
The air is thick, sticky, suffocating, but without the direct glare, I can breathe.
I’ll take it. I’ve got to get my steps in and keep moving my body. I’m officially in labor preparations.
I tighten the knot on my left shoe, thumb tapping my screen as I fire off a text to Chloe. Chloe Mariano is the bookworm in our friend group. She’s a hopeless romantic at heart.
Got any audiobook recs? Need something for all my walks. Preferably something distracting enough that I forget I’m hauling around a watermelon.
Her reply comes through seconds later.
Chloe: Dark romance? Spicy? Emotional? What’re you in the mood for, Mama?
I snort, grabbing my headphones. I didn’t realize she’d have such a follow-up.
Considering I’m already wound as tight as they come…surprise me.
Chloe: Spicy, it is. Get you all hot and bothered, then have that smokeshow roommate take care of that itch you can’t scratch.
Why do I feel like that’s already a plot of a romance novel?
Chloe: It obviously is lol Hmmm…how about a morally grey man who worships the ground you walk on?
Sign me up!
Chloe: Check out the Alliance series by S.J. Tilly! Those men are delicious!
I let out a huff of laughter, shaking my head as I scroll through my audiobook app and download the first book in the series. A dark mafia romance, with an age gap and touch-her-and-die vibes, hell yeah!
Yum!
Chloe: Enjoy walking that baby out! Can’t wait to fly down and meet the little one!
My chest warms at her excitement. Since she and Cody moved to Cleveland and Brynn moved to Colorado to be with Quinton, it’s felt weird not having them around.
Especially since my sorority sisters all ditched me, it’s like I’m more alone than ever before.
But reading their excitement at meeting my baby, well, it’s nice knowing we have more people in our corner than it feels.
Stepping outside, I’m greeted by a warm, gentle breeze that smells like freshly cut grass and charcoal from someone grilling.
The sidewalk still holds on to some of the day’s heat, radiating through the soles of my shoes.
My feet already ache, and I haven’t even made it past our building.
I blame walking around campus earlier as the culprit.
This is what prepping for labor looks like now. Miles around a cracked concrete complex, hoping gravity and movement will convince my body to start the process on its own. At my last appointment, I wasn’t even dilated yet.
I adjust my tank top as best as I can. Not much is covering this bump at this point. Starting my first loop, I let the audiobook play. The gruff voice of the narrator is soothing, but I’m only half listening as my thoughts drift to earlier.
“So it’s true…”
“I wasn’t sure if the rumors were real, but…”
“Is it Grant’s?”
“...Grant is letting me stay with him temporarily.”
She didn’t say it, but I could read the judgment on her face. It was written in the curl of her lips and the dramatic pause before every loaded question. Almost as if she were filing away every detail to spread around campus.
Then I had to open my big mouth and blurt that I was living with Grant.
The shock on her face told me everything I needed to know.
What would happen if the university found out a coach is living with a student?
Even if there’s no relationship, technically , there’s obvious chemistry between us.
I’m sure there are rules. Policies. A standard of conduct among the coaching staff.
And even if we’re roommates and nothing more, that doesn’t mean people would believe us. The rumors would be enough. The way he looks at me would definitely be enough.
What if I’m jeopardizing his career before he’s even had a chance to prove himself? He has enough on his shoulders already. There are already conversations about nepotism regarding his hiring.
The fact I’m carrying someone else’s baby, but he’s the one seen with me… Hell, that’s enough to start a damn wildfire.
But the biggest danger isn’t the university…
It’s me.
I’m falling for him…again. I don’t think I ever stopped. But this time, I don’t think I’d survive pretending I’m not.
I hit my second loop around the complex, passing the pool where a few groups of residents are enjoying the water. An inflatable beer pong float is in the middle. It smells like suntan lotion and bad decisions, the kind of memories I used to make.
By my third loop, my lower back is aching, but I push forward, walking slower now since it’s my last one. The clouds have thinned a little, letting streaks of pink and amber cut through.
As I’m turning the corner near the mailboxes, I nearly stop in my tracks.
Standing there is a tall, dark-haired version of Grant. Bret Campbell is the definition of confidence. Dressed in athletic shorts that hit mid-thigh and a cropped tank, her muscular, athletic build is on full display.
At the sound of my feet approaching, she turns to face me. Her expression morphs into a warm smile. It feels a little awkward seeing her again, since I haven’t seen her in months. Not since I appeared at Grant’s graduation.
“Well, well, well…look who he finally let out of the apartment.”
I huff a laugh, pulling out one earbud, causing the audiobook to stop.
“I was starting to think my brother had you chained up or something.”
My face flushes at the thought of Grant tying me up. At my hands bound above my head, his body hovering over me. Pressing slow, torturous kisses down my chest, teasing my breasts, nibbling on my stomach until he’s situated between my spread legs.
Bret’s eyes widen, and I realize my expression mirrors my dirty thoughts.
“Oh god,” she starts, raising her palms. “I’m not one to kink-shame. I’m here for a strong hand necklace, but I do not want to think about my brother tying you up.”
She shivers, and I can’t help giggling. “Nothing like that is happening.”
Bret gives me a look that tells me she doesn’t quite believe that. And she’s right. I can’t say what is happening, but it certainly isn’t nothing .
We start walking side by side down the sidewalk, even though her townhouse is in the opposite direction. The complex is strange—a large property with rows of townhouses sprinkled among apartment buildings, all with exterior entrances.
Our walk isn’t awkward. I’ve liked Bret since I first met her.
She’s observant and kind, but she doesn’t use it as a weapon.
She’s not figuring you out to use it against you.
When she first arrived at CTU last year, she was harboring her secrets.
I think she respects people’s privacy while subtly letting others know she’s here for them, if they need someone. There’s sweetness under all her sass.
She glances at my belly. “How’re you feeling? Almost there, right?”
“I’m doing fine. Feel like I’m carrying around a carton of watermelons, though. Four or so weeks to go.”
“You’re glowing,” she says sincerely.
I chuckle. “It’s called sweat, Bret.”
She shakes her head, rolling her eyes, but doesn’t keep feeding me compliments. “Ready for school?”
“As I’ll ever be,” I grumble, wiping sweat from my brow. “I had an interesting run-in at the bookstore. I have a feeling it’s the first of many.”
“Who do I need to punch?”
“I ran into Tierney Turner. She gave me the whole ‘oh, the rumors are true’ with the mini-interrogation.”
Bret rolls her eyes. “Tierney is the worst. I’ve only been around her a few times, but it was a few too many. Classic mean girl.”
“She gives Regina George a run for her money.”
She points her finger in the air, in a that’s right motion. “Should’ve throat-punched her.”
“I considered it.”
“Could’ve blamed it on pregnancy hormones.”
As we round the corner, we fall into a peaceful lull in conversation. My feet ache, but I’m grateful for the company. With my building in sight, Bret does a little shimmy in her shoulders like she’s nervous to say something.
Her head turns in my direction. “How’s he doing? With all”—she waves her hand in a circular motion toward me—“this?”
I falter in my steps. “He’s been amazing. More than I could have ever asked for. He’s gone to doctors’ appointments, surprises me with treats, and always makes sure I’m fed.” I pause as my stomach growls at the thought. “I didn’t even know he could cook.”
“Oh yeah, he got the cooking gene from Mom. I did not,” she states matter-of-factly, before her voice softens. “He’s a protector. It’s in his nature to go above and beyond to make sure the people he loves are safe.”
I nod, knowing how true that statement is. “He’s been…off lately. I’ve caught him staring into space, and when I think he’s going to say something, he changes the subject.”
“And you think it’s about you…”
My chest clenches. I nibble my lip to keep my emotions in check. “How could I not? I’m worried I’ve made things harder for him by being here.”
A gentle hand grips my forearm. Bret glances toward where Grant stands on the balcony, looking down at us. I can see the curious glint in his eyes from here.
“You’re not a burden. Remember that, Savannah. He wouldn’t have asked if he didn’t want you with him. Grant Campbell doesn’t do anything he doesn’t want to.”
I nod, giving her a watery, tight-lipped smile.
“And if he’s acting weird, it’s probably because he doesn’t want to push you. He has feelings for you, Sav, and I’m sure he doesn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.”
My breath catches in my throat, and I can only blink.
“And he hasn’t told our parents you’re living with him.”
That has my lips parting in shock. Bret turns and waves at her brother, then gives me a wink and walks away.
As if she didn’t drop a bomb at my feet.