Beyond What is Given(23)

“You’re at least coming up to see me, right?”

“I wouldn’t miss it.”

She sighed. “Okay. We’re getting busy here tearing down, so it will be a few days before I can get some time. Just…try to stay out of trouble, okay?”

“So don’t apply for jobs at strip clubs?”

Her eyes flew wide. “Don’t even joke about that, Samantha.”

Thank you, Grayson.

We hung up, and I scurried through my closet, discarding the wrong outfits into a pile on my bed. I wanted…yes! I slid into my favorite pair of shorts, the ones that hugged my ass and made my legs look longer. I paired them with a black tank top and a light green button-down.

I checked my phone. Four fifteen p.m. I had to hurry or I was going to be late.

I skipped down the steps, waving at the guys, including Will, who were camped out on the sofa watching baseball and enjoying the last day of their long weekend for Memorial Day. Grayson will be home tonight!

A rush ran through me, singing in my veins and making my skin tingle. Down girl, he said friends. Maybe he was up for the whole friends-with-benefits thing? Because the more time I spent around him, the harder it was not to crawl up his body and attack his face with mine. I bet he’s strong enough that we could actually have sex while standing. No wall. Nada. Just him and me and those arms…

“Earth to Sam!” Josh called out.

“Yeah?” I asked, snagging my keys off the hall table. Holy shit, I needed to get laid. Wait, that’s right. I didn’t have sex anymore. That’s what got me here.

“Are you headed to work? We were thinking about dinner and didn’t know if you wanted to order from Mellow Mushroom.”

“Pizza? Again? What do you guys usually do when Grayson isn’t here?” I located my purse in the hall closet.

“It’s Tuesday. We order pizza. Same as Saturday,” Jagger answered.

“And Thursday,” Josh added.

“I miss living with Ember,” I muttered, but Josh heard me and grinned. “Order whatever you want. I’ll grab something on the way home. I have to run an errand before work, so I’ll catch you later?”

They waved me off, and I ran out the door. “Fuck!” I shrieked as my black leather seats scalded the backs of my thighs. Could it be any hotter? I checked the dash. Ninety-seven degrees. In May. What the hell was July going to look like? I rolled down all the windows and blasted the air conditioner.

My heart pounded for the ten minutes it took me to drive past Walmart and pull into the parking lot. It kept pounding the other five minutes it took me to get the courage up to actually get out of the car, and didn’t stop when I opened the doors to the admissions office at Enterprise State Community College.

“Welcome, may I help you?” a young brunette drawled sweetly.

“I have an appointment with Mrs. Traper?” My fingers flexed on my purse. I should have filled out the application online and left it at that. At least rejection didn’t actually laugh in my face.

Suck up the bitter taste of accountability. Grayson’s voice rang in my ears, and I raised my chin. I could do this.

“Yes, ma’am,” the girl answered, pointing down the small hallway. “She’s waiting for you, second door on the left.”

“Thank you,” I replied, and then walked the plank toward her office.

“Come in,” Mrs. Traper called to me as I peeked inside her office. She looked mid-forties, with short blond hair and a kind smile. She stood and shook my clammy hand, motioning to the seat in front of her. “What can I do for you, Ms. Fitzgerald?”

“I’d like to apply.” I sat, reaching into the folder I brought with me and handing her the application I’d printed and filled out. The pleather squeaked under my shorts.

She took it from me, glancing through it with a perplexed smile. “You didn’t need to make an appointment to apply. We’d be happy to look at it and let you know.”

“I thought I might have a better chance in person.”

She raised her eyebrows. “We’re a community college, darlin’, not the Ivy League.”

I swallowed. “Yes, ma’am. But this is important to me.” It was a step, one I desperately needed.

She raised her glasses from the necklace they hung from and slipped them on, delving into my application. “You’re coming to us from the University of Colorado?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Hmm. You had a 3.9 GPA until this last semester, and then it appears you failed all four of your classes?” She looked up, her eyes boring into mine. My breathing accelerated, and I concentrated on slowing it down.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Can you explain for me?”

My mouth opened and shut a few times before I made the words come out. “I stopped going to classes in December. I didn’t turn in any of the work or take any of the finals.”

“Well, that would do it. I don’t see why you couldn’t take some classes here until you’re ready to head back to a bigger university. I assume that’s your goal, right? Your bachelors in”—she checked my application—“mathematics?”

I nodded. Not that Colorado would ever take me back until I faced the disciplinary board. “I’d like to take a few classes to boost my GPA and give me some concrete to stand on. Right now it feels like it’s all quicksand.”