Fighting Fate (Fighting #7)(27)

Her eyebrows pop. “Really?”

I chuckle at her shock. “Well, yeah, of course.”

She exhales and grins. “Okay, great. So I guess I’ll just wait for your call?”

“I’ll call you tonight, if that’s okay.”

“Yes, that’s fine.”

I point over my shoulder at no one. “I’ll talk to Ryder and Theo, figure out what the plan is first.”

She nods vigorously.

“Hey, Kill.” Axelle comes up next to me, grinning. “You ready?”

Brynn’s excitement drains from her face. A flash of irritation fires within me, and it’s aimed at Axelle, which makes no sense.

Axelle’s eyes move between Brynn and me. “Oh, I’m sorry. Did I interrupt?” She sounds genuinely apologetic.

I clear my throat. “Brynn, this is my friend Axelle.”

“Nice to meet you,” Brynn says politely with a hint of relief in her voice.

“Nice to meet you too.” Axelle swings her gaze to mine. “I can grab a table if you guys aren’t finished.”

Brynn steps back. “Oh, no—”

“That’d be great.” I step closer to Brynn. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

Axelle’s eyes flash with hurt, but she shakes it off and aims a polite smile at the girl. “It was nice to meet you, Brynn.” She doesn’t even look at me and heads toward the café.

Brynn rolls her lips between her teeth, and rather than continue to stand in the awkward silence, I push through it.

“So it’s decided. I’ll talk to the guys and call you tonight, only”—I rub the back of my neck—“could I get your number one more time?”

She lifts a speculative brow. “You lost it.”

More like I never took it. “I did.” I take my phone from my pocket and pull up my contacts. “Here.” She enters all her info, and when she’s done, I fire off a quick text to her. “And now you have mine.”

“Okay, so, I look forward to your call.”

“Right, yeah.” Before I can think too hard about it, I reach over, hook her behind the neck, and pull her to my chest for a hug. God, the top of her head comes to my nipple, and as good as her female curves feel against me, she doesn’t have the same fit I have with Axelle.

I drop my hand and step away. “Talk to you tonight.”

Her cheeks flush pink and she takes off to class. I turn to watch her melt into the crowd, my gaze tracking her tiny hips and tight little body, and feeling not even a hint of the zip I feel just being near Axelle.

I turn away, grinning at what a hopeless wreck I am, and catch Axelle staring right at me from across the quad, her jaw clenched.

Yeah, how does it feel, sweetheart?

And although I shouldn’t, I feel absolutely sick to my stomach.

*





Axelle





Oh, no, here he comes. Act cool, unaffected, nonchalant—dammit, who is that girl?

As long as I’ve known Killian, I’ve never seen him act that friendly with another girl before. And that girl, Brynn, is just as adorable as her sweet little name.

I clear my throat and take a bite of my sandwich just as he makes it to our table and drops into the seat across from me. He’s wearing a yellow T-shirt that brings out the gold flecks in his eyes. I force my gaze away to avoid getting lost in them and read the words The Book Was Better scrolled across his broad masculine chest. I consider telling him he needs to start buying bigger clothes when—why is he smirking?

“Why aren’t you eating?” Girl problems rob you of your appetite?

“I ate a protein bar in class.” His phone chimes, and when he reads it, he grins before texting back and tucking it back into his pocket. “I keep meaning to ask you if you ever heard back from your dad.”

From one uncomfortable thought to the next. Thanks, Kill.

“No, not yet.” I pick at the crust on my sandwich, my stomach rejecting the little I’ve already eaten. “It’s cool. He has a new girlfriend, and she has kids, so I’m sure he’s busy with them.”

All humor dissolves from his expression. “How long has it been?”

I have no interest in sharing with Killian how pathetic it is that my own biological dad, who made huge attempts to contact me, has now decided, after getting to know me a little bit, that he want’s nothing to do with me, so I lie. “Not long.” Three months.

“Hmm.” He squints out at the clusters of college students, but doesn’t seem to be actually looking at anything.

Time for a subject change. “Have you talked to your mom recently?” It’s a shitty thing to do, flipping the subject from my absent parent to his. Last time he accepted a call from his mom, that I’m aware of, was over the summer, and when he got off the phone, he seemed smaller. She’s always been horrible for his self-esteem, telling him he’s not good enough, which is part of the reason I think he tries so hard to be the best at everything: the endless search for her approval that will most likely never come.

He flicks at something on the table and shakes his head. “No.”

I drop my chin, hating the vibe that’s forming between us. “Hey, Kill? I hope you know I—”