Broken and Screwed 2 (BS #2)(5)

He flashed me a grin.

My shoulders loosened. There was the cocky son-of-a-bitch Cord Tatum. I reached for one of the glasses that hung from a cupboard and slid it across the counter. “Fill her up.”

He chuckled as he did. Then he topped off his own glass. “Instead of talking about the chickadee that was just here, why don’t we talk about you?” He took up his glass and moved towards the large table that could’ve sat thirty people. He plopped down in a chair and motioned to another. As I sat, he asked, “You were here to see Jesse?”

Oh goodness.

As I sat, I needed to remember who this guy was. He charmed his way into Marissa’s pants—who was I kidding? She charmed her way into his after trying to charm her way into Jesse’s pants. With a scowl on my face, I took a big gulp of the wine. I set the glass back down, roughly, as I scowled at him. “Why’d you sleep with Marissa?”

His eyebrows shot up, but he schooled his face. I had to give him points for that. Not too much shock got through before he contained himself and asked, in a soft murmur, “What do you mean?”

I scoffed, drinking more of my wine. “Don’t act like I’m stupid. I know she was calling Jesse and you took up the cause.” The whole thing settled on the bottom of my gut in a bad way. A pang seared through me. She’d been my friend and she had been hoping to get Jesse while she knew of our history. It hurt. It hurt a lot.

He leaned forward with his arms resting on the table. His tone was gentle, “Look, Marissa was stupid, okay? I don’t know how you two are right now, but take it from me. She was a stupid girl. She was selfish.”

I swallowed over a knot in my throat. It hurt. It hurt so f**king much.

He continued, so soft and gentle, “And if you think Jesse wanted anything to do with her, you’re completely wrong. The dude’s barely looked at another girl since you took up your walking papers and marched last November.”

Relief hit me like a ton of bricks. I sat there, stunned, with my head down. It felt good to hear that. It felt really good to hear that, but he never returned my calls. Why hadn’t he if he cared that much?

“Look.” Cord sighed and stood from the table. He tossed the rest of his wine in the sink, then did the same with mine. “Have you moved into the dorms yet?”

I shook my head.

“And I bet you have a whole car loaded to the top with stuff, huh?”

I nodded this time.

“All right. Mind’s made up. Come on.”

He bent to slip on his shoes, pulled a Grant West University shirt on, and grabbed his keys. He dangled them at me from the door. “You coming or not?”

“What are you doing?”

“I’ll help you move in.”

“You will?” This visit had gone in a different direction than what I intended. “I didn’t come here for that.”

He shrugged, grinning at me. “I know, but Jesse would want me to do this. He’d do it, if he were here.”

I stood and frowned. “Yeah, where is he?”

Barking out a laugh, he shook his head. “Nope. Not going to touch that one.”

Touch that one? I was even more confused as he put his hand between my shoulder blades and urged me out of the house. Following behind me, he locked the door and then asked, “What dorm are you in?”

“Frasier Hall.”

A glimmer of a frown appeared but was gone in a second. “What floor?”

“Sixth.”

His eyebrows shot up now.

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Why?”

Jerking a shoulder up, he shrugged but turned for his car. “Nothing. I’ll follow you?”

“Suurree…” Something was up. That was obvious, but when Cord climbed into his Jaguar, I shook my head. I’d need to admit defeat on this one.

“Let’s go, Connors.” He reversed out of the driveway. Pounding the top of his car, he gestured for me to hurry up. His car was idling in the road as he waited so I got into my car and pulled out. He followed behind and when we pulled up to the back door of my new dorm, the reaction to his Jaguar was comical.

There were girls everywhere, along with their parents, little siblings, and friends galore. Most of the dads seemed to halt whatever they were doing. Their heads craned for a better view so they could see his Jaguar. The girls snapped to attention as well, but their eyes were on Cord himself as he rounded his car and sauntered to mine. Even though his head was down and he only looked at me and talked to me, he still emanated a subtle cockiness. It was as if everyone knew he was an elite athlete among their mix.

I could only shake my head. If people reacted like this to Cord, how would they handle Jesse?

“Any order?” Cord asked as he opened my back door and bent to scoop up a box.

“No order.”

“What room?” He straightened from the car.

“613.”

“Got it.” His head clipped up and down in a brisk nod before he headed for the opened stairway. It was like he knew where he was going, exactly where he was going.

“Was that Cord Tatum?”

I had expected the question from a girl. When it was a deep masculine voice instead, I was thrown off balance for a second. He looked in his mid-forties with a beer belly. Sweat soaked most of his shirt and he wiped a hand over his glistening forehead, but his eyes were lit up. “Was it?”