Boyfriend Bargain (Hawthorne University #1)(92)

She nods and looks out the window. “You said you loved her forever. You said how different your life would be if she were here.”

I nod. “And it would be. I’d probably have a kid and be married…I think obligation would have made me do what I thought was right. I wrote those letters—hell, I lied to her to let go of the grief.” My voice shakes. “Grief is a strange, terrible thing, Sugar. It rips you up inside.”

Varying emotions flit across her face. For once, she’s impossible to read, and my hands ache to touch her, to hold her and sooth those worry lines off her face.

“How am I different?”

I huff out a laugh. “You’re tall, feisty, a bit of a sexual deviant, quirky to the point of awkwardness, and a sugar fiend. You’re fucking perfect.”

She chews on her lip. “But when you saw me at the Kappa party…”

“You looked like her, it’s true, and it stunned me, but you were the girl in that bathroom. You were the girl I kissed out on that porch. Willow and I…we were just teenagers, and we never had the emotional connection you and I do.” I sigh. “The day you showed up at my house with the pie, it took me a minute to process the resemblance, but as soon as you smiled, it was all you. Your hair, your lips, your face. I never meant to fall for someone who resembles her, but you…you were irresistible. I didn’t feign interest in you for therapy or to work out my guilt. I did it because I couldn’t resist you. I love you.” I’m breathing hard, my chest heaving. What if this isn’t enough…what if…

She gets up and comes to me, and I exhale as she leans her head against my shoulder. Her arms curl around my waist, and the feel of her against me, the scent of her hair in my nose…I’m home.

“Sugar?”

She shakes her head, her face buried in my chest, and she sniffs.

“Don’t cry, please, babe—shit—fuck, I called you babe.” I suck in a breath, my arms tight around her. “Sugar, I’m sorry, so damn sorry I couldn’t come to you sooner and didn’t tell you the moment I knew I should have. I was just so scared. I tremble at the idea of you rejecting me because I’ve never felt this way about anyone in my whole fucking life, and I know I’m fucked up and I need help and I know you get me. You get me, and I can’t live without you. I can’t.” My words are running together and my face is wet and hers is too and…and I can’t wait. I tilt her face up and kiss her.

It’s all we do for a long time.





*



I wake up around eight the next morning, and we’re on her bed, both of us having fallen asleep after talking until nearly four.

I stare down at her, memorizing her full lips, that little indentation right in the middle.

I told her about Reece and his involvement with Willow, about the girl Eric set me up with and how shitty it was. She asked me about Lola and I admitted to showing up at class to see her. I tell her how I froze up and ended up leaving without talking to her. Lola wasn’t anything but a feeble attempt to get a reaction out of Sugar when I saw her come into the student center.

I explained everything going on behind the scenes with the Predators, which is basically wait and see. I’m signing my contract with them as soon as I graduate and I don’t think I’ll be able to give the team a definitive answer about my anxiety until the season arrives. I’m not quitting though. I can’t. It’s not in me.

My gaze drifts over the room, once again taking in the duffle.

Her eyes open as if she’s hardwired to me, and I give her a tentative kiss on the mouth. We held each other and talked, but shit, I still don’t know what’s in her heart.

I’m not stopping until she is mine again.

“Give me another chance,” I say.

She turns over, grabs her phone, and then rolls out of bed. My eyes drift over her, taking in the tank top and panties. The fact that I kept my hands off her last night is a miracle. But I did.

She’s darting around the room, rummaging through drawers and pulling out underclothes. “Ah, I need to get out of here. My plane leaves in a few hours.”

“I’m coming with you.” I jump out of bed, my adrenaline already pumping.

Her gaze flares as she stares at me. “Don’t you have a parade on campus today or something? Kappa party, etcetera?”

I do, but I’m going to call Coach. The trophy is won and I can’t be without her another day. “Just let me pop in the shower real quick.” I wiggle my brows. “Better yet, join me.”

“You don’t have a plane ticket.” She looks around as if one might magically appear.

“I’ll buy one at the airport.”

She sputters. “But what will you tell your coach and the fans?”

“That I had somewhere important to be—with you. I’m done with HU. You are all that matters.”

She blinks and then takes a deep breath.

I grin. “Is that a yes?”

She nods.





45





Sugar





The entire flight to Birmingham, I stare at Z while he sleeps, head laid back, an extra pair of my headphones on as he zones out. We managed to get him a seat on the plane and then arranged to sit together. As people passed by while walking down the aisle, some passengers asked for his autograph and he went along with it, his face blank and shuttered. But when he looked at me, he glowed, and his face—it was open and free and happy.