Boyfriend Material (Hawthorne University, #2)(38)

His hands fist and I loosen them.

“I get it,” I say. “I want to tell you something. It’s big. And I don’t want you to think differently of me.”

His eyes lift to mine. “Okay.”

“The reason I started stripping was because . . .” I pause, digging deep for the nerve to tell him. “My mom’s the reason I owed Connor. She’s an addict. And homeless.” Stammering, I rush through the story of her car accident and her spiral into prescription pills. I explain how we lost our house. How she lives with friends or in her car.

His gaze is soft. “I’m sorry, Julia. If I can help out in any way, let me know. Wait. That ring you pawned? Was it hers?”

I nod. “I was afraid she’d sell it and took it. She pawned or sold everything after we lost our house. Silverware, candlesticks, jewelry.”

“Shit. You’ve been through hell, Julia.”

I grimace, wanting to move on. “I’m sorry about your brother. Addiction is vicious.”

His shoulders seem to cave in. “Back then, I handled everything in my life like it didn’t matter. At the time, nothing did. I went through the motions. Girls were a way to distract myself from what was going on.” He pauses. “You were one of them.”

“I guess your life isn’t as perfect as I thought.”

He laughs harshly, then sobers. “Uh, no.”

I retell him the story of the party freshman year, how I saw him staring at a wall.

His face reddens. “I don’t remember seeing you. I was probably trashed. They made us go days without sleep and I’d been kissing Kappa ass all week.” He smirks. “Not anymore.”

“What happened between you and Parker before? Why do you not like each other?”

“Well, he’s Parker. Our dads do business together, and we grew up around each other, even though we went to different schools. Honestly, I think our dads encouraged us to compete. Who was the better athlete, who made the best grades, who had the best car.”

I wince. “That doesn’t sound fun.”

“It wasn’t.” He ruffles my hair. “Come on, I’ll walk you home. I need to sober up and work off this sandwich.”

We walk through the park and down the street to my house. We aren’t holding hands anymore, but they brush against each other.

We stop in front of my house.

He rakes his hair off his face. “So. You wanna go to brunch tomorrow?”

I laugh nervously. “Is food all you ever think about?”

“Athlete.”

“Actually, I was thinking of going to the lake and taking some photos at sunrise. It’s a good time. There’s never anyone there, plus I don’t think I can sleep for a while—not after Parker.”

His lips tighten as he heaves out an exhale, getting that pissy, angry look on his face again, so I change the topic.

“Taking photos has become a little hobby of mine.” At least Channing was good for one thing.

He nods. “Want some company? I could use the time away from campus to clear my head.” His face hardens. “I really want to go back to Kappa and beat the shit out of Parker.”

“And it would solve nothing and get you in trouble.”

“Right. So? Can I come with? We can take my truck and you can drive.”

Yes. A million times. I can tell myself that I don’t want to be alone, but the truth is, I want him with me for other reasons.

I go up to my door and let him in, putting my finger to my lips. “Wait down here. I need to grab the equipment.”

He doesn’t argue as I tiptoe up the stairs. In my room, I change into jeans and a sweatshirt and grab Channing’s camera bag. I can’t say I feel guilty about using it.

Twenty minutes later, we’re at the lake.

He sits on a park bench. “What’s so great about this place?”

I catch a couple of ducks drifting on the water under the purple, pre-dawn sky and snap the pic. “It’s pretty. I love nature. There’s no artifice. Everything you see is true.”

“Ever go to Bell Mountain?”

I snap another photograph of the trees, the sky glowing behind their brightly-colored fall leaves. “No car. I had to sell it to pay Connor months ago.”

“I have one.”

I snap another photo, my nerves zinging. Does that mean he wants to do this again? This night has been one of a lot of surprises, good and bad, shifting my world in big ways, and I’m not sure I can take it shifting anymore.

The lighter the sky gets, the better I feel.

I shove the ugliness from earlier away.

Nothing Kappa can touch me here.

Parker doesn’t matter.

Someday his actions will slap him in the face.

Karma will get him.

And I’ll be waiting for it.

When the sun has fully risen, I find Eric asleep on the park bench, his mouth parted as he lightly snores. I stare at his face, the way the sunlight makes his reddish hair glint with golden lights. My gaze traces his bent nose, the curve of his lips.

“Eric?” I whisper, shaking him slightly.

He opens his eyes sleepily. “Yeah?”

“How many times have you broken your nose?”

He gives me a squinty, confused look. “Uh, three or four. I lost count.”