Fighting Fate (Granton University #1)(29)

If he couldn’t find another job, what would he do then? How would he—

“You’re right,” Gus finally said. He let out a soft chuckle. “Hell, I doubt I’d be able to talk about it either.”

When Logan opened his mouth, Gus waved him quiet. “Okay, okay.” With a weary sigh, he grumbled, “I understand and agree. This will be a challenge, but I’ll make sure you two never work together or even cross paths. God knows I don’t need that kind of drama hanging over my business.”

“Thank you.” Logan exhaled, though strangely as disappointed as he was relieved. What if he never saw her again? The thought of never setting eyes on that hair, those eyes, her smile, left him feeling glum and lost.

Though he’d gotten what he wanted, it didn’t seem to matter how he viewed the situation. His future still looked as bleak as it had been for the past three years.





Chapter Twelve


BY OCTOBER, Paige had slipped into a routine.

Monday, Wednesday, and Friday evenings, along with early Saturday mornings, she worked at The Squeeze. Miracle upon miracles, but she didn’t work any day of the week with Logan. She didn’t even spot him on shift changes. A guilty part of her wondered if he’d quit there too, just as he’d dropped out of Geography class and the grief group.

She told herself it didn’t matter; he’d find another job. But that small, sympathetic side of her that could no longer hate him felt bad about making him change so much of his life just to accommodate her. She’d had no idea trying to live Trace’s dream for him would affect anyone else.

Not that she was doing very well in that department. Classes were progressing passably. But the thought of taking an actual business course in the spring scared the bejesus out of her.

And Chemistry still sucked. Then again, another part of her routine involved doing homework with Einstein, which helped her immensely. He hung out a lot in the game room of their dormitory, and sometimes he still loitered under the staircase in the main foyer.

When he popped out of either place to greet her each time she entered the front door, she felt obligated to stop and talk to him for a while. Their visits grew so long she finally asked if they could just work on homework together in the game room so she couldn’t fall behind in in her classes because of her attempt to befriend him.

She hadn’t asked him for help on her Chemistry—honest—he had simply looked over her shoulder and said, “That answer’s not right.” It bothered him to no end when she came up with the wrong equations, and since he constantly looked over her shoulder at what she was studying, he was bothered a lot.

But at least she was rocking a nifty B in the class because of him.

Mariah continued to shuffle men through their room, and Paige continued to camp out on Bailey and Tess’s floor. Though her suitemates went home every weekend, whenever Paige wasn’t in class, at work, attending grief group, or studying with Einstein, she spent her free time with them.

Phone calls to Creighton County grew fewer and fewer, and Kayla’s stories about people from their hometown began to sound more like tales of complete strangers.

All the while, her Tuesday night meetings became as important to her as her classwork. Within a month, she’d accumulated the position of caller, someone Samantha referred to as a person anyone could call whenever they were feeling particularly down. Two members had called Paige already in the middle of the night. After talking to them and listening to their heartbreaking accounts, she began to wonder if social work or psychology might actually be her life’s calling.

She knew she helped others by simply listening to them, yet ever since the first meeting she’d attended, she still couldn’t mention her mother or Logan Xander’s tie to her to anyone. Not to Tess or Bailey, and not to the members of the grief group.

Although…Xander’s tie to her no longer seemed like an issue. It was as if he’d dropped off the face of the earth. If she hadn’t seen him so much that first week of school, she might’ve convinced herself he didn’t exist at all. She knew he hadn’t left Granton, though. She’d finally checked the time cards at work and seen how he punched his regularly.

But it was possible he’d dropped out of school, because she hadn’t spotted him on campus. She didn’t want to care whether he had or not, but late at night, when she found it hard to sleep, his face would drift into her head. His desolate blue eyes would look at her, and she just wanted to comfort him, kiss his short crop of hair, and wrap her arms around his neck to press their cheeks together. Share the loneliness and pain that plagued them both.

Her mind wandered to him as she walked to class one day. She hadn’t seen him in a good six weeks, not since the night he’d wrapped her thumb, which had healed nicely due to his thorough administrations.

She wished she would’ve at least apologized for being so rude, so—

With a gasp, she paused in her tracks. Logan Xander sat about thirty feet away. She slipped into the shade of a nearby tree and stared covertly at him. It was as if her thoughts had conjured him. But there he was, across the lawn, sitting on a bench and—

What was he doing? Drawing, maybe?

With an ankle crossed over one knee, he’d perched a large pad on his lap and was bent over it, scrawling madly. Every couple of seconds, he’d pause and glance up, staring across the campus lawn. Following the direction of his gaze, Paige spotted a couple camped out on the short grass, lying on a blanket. The girl read a book and rested the back of her head on the guy’s chest as he sprawled out perpendicular to her, playing with her hair.