I stood up and headed in the kitchen to fix something to eat. Kayla was great, but she was so young. She had no clue.

  I have everything to lose.

  ***

  Jackson Latre Mitchell

  Richard tried to apologize, but I stopped him. We were standing halfway between the Student Union and the parking garage. It was late and not many students were on campus. I was exhausted, and it was only the first day.

  “Don’t worry about it. I don’t care.”

  “What’s with you, man? You’ve been off all afternoon.”

  “I don’t know how to explain it.”

  Richard and Jeff waited, but I wasn’t sure what to tell them. Jeff didn’t know Carrington, but I knew Richard did. He was there when I was all lovesick and miserable.

  Richard knew the truth. He tried to convince me to go after her in the beginning and told me I was a punk for letting Josh have her. He didn’t understand my relationship with Josh.

  The locker room got all over me that year because of my unannounced vow of celibacy. Well, not quite celibacy, but I avoided relationships because I didn’t think it was fair to start something with someone when I had feelings for another girl. My feelings for Carrington were solid.

  When we won the national championship, Coach joked that if it worked for me, the rest of the team should try it. The team didn’t accept that idea too well.

  I didn’t mean for it to happen. I didn’t mean to fall for my best friend’s girl. I knew what the outcome would be before anyone else.

  Of course, I never imagined it would go down the way it did. I saw the signs and the people I loved got hurt. That was why it took me over a year to think about dating someone.

  “You remember Carrington?” I asked Richard.

  “Yeah, wait. No.” He stepped back and shook his head.

  “Who’s Carrington?”

  “You are not still pining away for that girl?”

  “Who’s Carrington?” Jeff asked, again.

  “You heard about Josh Griffin the fourth.”

  “Your best friend who killed himself in front of Griffin Library.” The story had reached myth status, but in this case, it was true.

  “Carrington was his girlfriend.”

  “So, what’s the big deal?” Jeff asked.

  “The big deal is our friend Jackson, here, has been in love with her for like two years,” Richard said.

  “No, the big deal is she’s back on campus.”

  I drove them to the athletic dorm. No one spoke until we arrived.

  “Your still into her?” Jeff asked first.

  “I don’t know. I haven’t seen her all summer, and I’m with Tiffany.”

  “That’s right. You’re with Tiffany, and she’s awesome. She’s perfect for you,” Richard said.

  “Why?” I turned to him. “Why is she perfect for me?”

  “She looks like an NFL quarterback’s wife. She’s hot.”

  “Dude, she is hot,” Jeff said.

  “I’m supposed to be with her because she looks like a player’s wife? Out of curiosity, what does Carrington look like?”

  “Listen, man. You don’t need that baggage. Look, I’m only saying this because I’m your friend, but you just got your swagger back, man. Why would you want to go back there?”

  “What does Carrington look like?” Jeff asked.

  Richard ignored him.

  “And don’t tell me it’s no big deal. You were totally out of it in practice today because of this girl. She’s in your head already.”

  “She’s not in my head. She surprised me that’s all. Besides, it’s different now. We’re both in a different place.”

  “I don’t get it, man. How do you look at her and not think about all the shit that comes with being with her?”

  “What the fuck, Rich?” I stepped to Richard, and he didn’t back down. “You don’t know what happened? No one knows what happened back between us. So, shut the fuck up.”

  “I know this girl is going to fuck with your head. Leave it alone.”

  “Hey,” Jeff yelled.

  We both turned to him. “What?” we said in unison.

  “Seriously, dude. What does Carrington look like?”

  I blinked and stepped away from Richard. He let out a breath and rubbed his hands through his hair and shook them out.

  I took my phone out and flipped to a photo of Carrington from last May. Her hair was down, and she had this flirty tilt to her head. She looked through me, deep into my soul, and she liked what she saw and it made me happy.

  I tossed the phone to Jeff.

  “Damn, dude. If you don’t want her, I’ll take her.”

  “Jeff,” Richard said.

  “What?”

  “Shut up.”

  I headed home. I understood where Richard was coming from. He wanted the best for me, and he wanted his quarterback happy and healthy, mentally as well as physically.

  I had no clue what I was going to do.

  When I turned on my street, my heart sank. Tiffany’s yellow VW Bug was in my driveway. I had to talk myself out of driving away. I needed to handle the situation.

  When I entered the house, Tiffany ran up to me and threw her arms around my neck. She pulled me to her and pressed her lips against mine. She forced my lips apart and darted her tongue in my mouth.

  I pushed her away harder than I attended. She gave me a sexy grin and attacked me, again.

  I grabbed her arms and held them to her side.

  “Tiff, stop for a second.”

  “What’s wrong?” she asked and reached for the bottom of my shirt.

  “Tiffany. Stop,” I yelled.

  Her eyes sprang instant tears.

  How do girls do that?

  She turned away and walked back into my place with her shoulders slumped.

  She wiped her eyes as she sat down and waited.

  I walked over and sat next to her on the couch.

  “I told you not to wait for me.”

  “I wanted to see you tonight.”

  “Tiffany—”

  “I’m sorry. You’re right. I should give you your space. I know I can be selfish sometimes. I love being with you. When we’re together, everything is okay.”

  “But we can’t be together all the time.”

  “I don’t know what you want, sometimes. It scares me.”

  I stood up and paced in front of the couch. I needed to tell her about Carrington. She was going to find out anyway.

  I turned my back to her and blurted it out. “Carrington’s here.”

  I waited for the fallout. I faced her. She sat with her hands on her lap. She wasn’t crying. She rubbed her chin and frowned. She shook her head and collapsed against the back of the couch.

  “Um … what do you mean, she’s here?”

  “She came back to FSU.”

  “She’s going to school here.” Tiffany crossed her arms over her chest. “Why?”

  “What do you mean why? I don’t know why!”

  “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

  “I didn’t know.”

  “Right, you didn’t know. Your best friend,” she applied air quotes, “didn’t tell you she was returning to FSU.”

  “She wanted to surprise me.”

  “What did she do with the kid?”

  “You know his name. Jack’s here, too.”

  “Oh, great. Now you three can be one big happy family.”

  “Tiffany.” I kneeled next to her, but she stood up and walked toward the door.

  She had stopped before she reached it.

  “It’s okay. I know what she means to you. You can break up with me if you want to.”

  She gave me an out. How selfless of her? It wasn’t like her. I didn’t speak. I wanted her to walk out the door, and it would be done. I would be free, and Carrington and I could be together.

  But she didn’t leave. She stood there. She waited for me to say something.

  A whimper escaped her lips, and she held her hand over her mouth. Her shoulders shook, and I knew she was about to lose control. I debated whether to go to her. It was the good guy in me who felt the need to comfort crying women. I blamed it on my dad. He instilled in my brothers and me the skill or the burden—depending on how you look at it—of being thoughtful and caring men. It was a trait that made me a good leader. If my teammates were happy, I was happy.

  I went to her and wrapped my arms around her from behind. She whimpered at my touch and stepped away, but I didn’t let her get away. I pulled her to me and she let out a sigh that reached through my chest and punched me in the heart. I didn’t want to hurt her. I surprised myself. Maybe I did care a little.

  “Tiffany, shhh. Don’t cry.”

  I turned her around, and she hid her face from me. I touched her face, and she sighed. I pulled her to me and she cried, but not hysterical sobs. It was all quite dignified.

  “I don’t want to lose you,” she whispered, and she wrapped her arms around me, one hand snuck under my shirt and up my spine.

  “You’re not losing me.” I led her over to the couch and sat her down. I pushed her hair out of her face and wiped the tears. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t cut her off.

  Dammit. Why can’t I be an asshole like other guys?

  Tiffany meant a lot to me. She’d helped me move on with my life. The last three months, it’d been her and I. And while Carrington was on my mind, I’d developed feelings for Tiffany. I just hadn’t realized how much.

  Bottom line, it was hard to let her go.

  If Carrington had told me at the beginning of the summer that she was coming back to school, things would be different. I could have made a clean break with Tiffany. If I had known, I would never have gotten more involved with Tiffany.

  Why didn’t she tell me sooner?

  I held Tiffany, and she relaxed and clung to me. I held her tight.

  We sat there holding each other, afraid to speak. I didn’t trust myself to say the right thing. I didn’t know what the right thing was. My feelings for Carrington had not changed, but maybe my feelings for Tiffany had grown.

  Richard had a point. Tiffany and I made sense on so many levels and Carrington came with baggage. A seven-forty-seven size airplane full of it. With everything going on in my life, why make it even more complicated?

  “Why did she come back?” Tiffany asked.

  “I don’t really know.”

  “Did she come back to be with you?”

  I could speculate why she came back, but I didn’t want Tiffany to feel any more insecure.

  “No. She said she wanted to finish what she started. She doesn’t want what happened to her last year to keep her from her original goals.”

  “That’s admirable,” Tiffany said and sounded sincere.

  “She’s in a place financially where she can take care of Jack and go to school, and I think she’s trying to get her life back on track.”

  “And she wants your help.”

  “Well, yeah. I mean, it may not be what you want to hear, but we are connected in a way. Josh was my best friend, and I feel responsible for Carrington and her son because he’s not here to take care of them.”

  “But—”

  “Wait, before you say anything, let me explain.” I took Tiffany’s hands and stared into her eyes. It was the most honest conversation we had ever had about Josh and Carrington, and I needed to get it out.

  “I had feelings for Carrington, and I didn’t act on them. I think if I had, Josh would still be alive, and she wouldn’t be so damaged. I stood back and watched him destroy her mentally, at first, and then physically. I can’t get that out of my head.”

  “Oh, Jackson.” She blinked back tears and held my face in her hands. Her eyes were so expressive and beautiful, and I felt good about telling her the truth. It felt good to say it out loud, and I wasn’t pathetic for having these thoughts.

  “When he attacked her, she was calling for me, and I couldn’t get to her fast enough.” I wiped the tears from my eyes. I cringed thinking about her lying on the floor of Josh’s room, covered in blood. “I couldn’t stop him.”

  Tiffany crawled in my lap and pulled me close. She put her hands under my shirt and I sighed and held her tight. Her contact comforted me. She wanted to comfort me, and I let her, because I needed comforting. As close as Carrington and I were, we never talked about it anymore. When I tried to talk to her about it, she would change the subject or make jokes about it.

  “I’m sure you did what you could. And you’re here for her now.”

  “Yeah, but I don’t want her being here to effect us.”

  “It won’t. I’ve been jealous of Carrington for, well, as long as I’ve known about her, but not for the reasons you think.” Tiffany took my face in her hands. “The two of you are connected by this tragedy, and it will bond you for life. I could deal because, well, besides phone calls and an occasional visit, I didn’t have to see it, but now she’s here.”

  “It doesn’t change anything.”

  “That remains to be seen.” Tiffany wrapped herself around me as if trying to prevent my heart from leaving her.

  I tried to convince her by being as honest as I could, but she knew I was holding something back and wasn’t ready to hear my answer, so she didn’t ask the questions.

  “I want to meet her,” she said instead.

  Tiffany pushed back, but I held on. I needed to get my face right. Remove the panic I felt in my chest at her suggestion.

  “Why?” Stupid question.

  “She’s important to you, and if she is going to be a part of your life, I think we should at least get to know each other.”

  “Okay.”

  I tried to keep my voice neutral. She climbed off my lap, took my hand, and led me upstairs. It wasn’t until we entered my dark room did she face me, pulling her shirt over her head. She removed the rest of her clothes and I stood and watched. She wanted to confirm our connection by having sex.

  It seemed wrong, but I did it anyway.

  Chapter Nine

  Carrington Olivia Butler

  The rest of my first week in Tallahassee was uneventful. It seemed I’d been gone long enough that my return didn’t register with anyone. The professors knew the story, but they were too polite to bring it up.

  I reconnected with one of my old roommates, Jessica, but my other roommate, Melinda had dropped out of school last spring semester. She moved back to Miami and last Jessica heard, she was dating some old guy and working in his boutique on South Beach.

  Melinda was the self-designated leader of our group of girls, but she disliked me because I had nabbed Josh Griffin. She would have given her firstborn to the devil if it meant landing a Griffin or another wealthy Florida family’s son.

  Jessica was honest. She said what she meant and although her delivery could be rough, you couldn’t fault her arguments. Plus, her boyfriend had been in the same fraternity as Josh and Jackson. It was a big deal for frat brothers to date non-sorority girls, at least in the minds of the sorority girls on campus. Jessica and I had to stick together, safety in numbers and all that.

  Jessica had since broken up with her boyfriend. We met for lunch, and I hoped she would give me the scoop on everything that had happened since I left.

  Jessica’s confident presence was tempered by the sadness in her eyes. Her long blond hair was pulled up in a messy bun and her make-up applied flawless. She wore skintight jeans and a fitted black sweater. She greeted me with a huge hug, looked me up and down and smiled and hugged me again.

  “It’s so great to see you,” she said. “God, you look amazing.”

  “Thanks, so do you.” We sat across from each other in a booth at an old burger diner near the capitol. Neither of us knew where to start.

  “How are you?” I asked.

  “Oh, good. Really good. You know, school is school, but I’m good.” Her eyes darted around. “How are you?”

  The way she asked the questions made me think of my therapist. She asked simple questions in hopes I would answer them in the most complex manner. I reached over the table and touched Jessica’s arm.

  “Jess, relax. I’m fine.”

  Tears sprang to her eyes, but she blinked them away. I removed my hand and sat back. I wasn’t sure why she was so upset. When we were roommates, Jessica was such a badass. She didn’t take shit from anyone. Her directness made me uncomfortable, but I admired her for it. This was a different girl sitting in front of me.

  “I’m sorry. I’m happy you’re okay.”

  “Jess, are you okay?”

  “No, I am fine. I mean, I’m so stupid. You almost died, and here I am, all emotional.”

  “That was a long time ago, and I’m fine, now.”

  “How’s little Jackson?”

  “He’s amazing. You should see him; he’s a little small for his age, but he is so smart.”

  I handed her my phone and showed her the latest round of photos.

  “He is so cute.” She handed the phone back.

  “See, we’re fine. Now what’s going on with you? When did you and Brian breakup?”

  “Over the summer. He graduated last May. It’s been hard being here without him.”

  “I bet.”

  She shook her head and wiped tears from her eyes.

  “Jessica?” I leaned forward.

  “I’m sorry. Your boyfriend killed himself, and I’m feeling sorry for myself because my boyfriend didn’t want to do the long-distance thing. He lives in freakin’ Pensacola. It’s like three hours away. Fucker.”

  I laughed, which made her laugh. It was the most normal conversation I’d had in eighteen months. No one wanted to talk to me about relationships. A drug addicted, controlling, abusive boyfriend trumped, he doesn’t pay enough attention to me, every time.

  “Please tell me more. I am craving to hear stuff like this. You know, normal girlfriend talk.”

  “You sure you want to hear this?”

  “Yes, please.”

  “Okay, so, I helped his family with graduation. I threw a fucking party for them and even helped him move his stuff back home. The night before I was leaving to go home for the summer, he says we shouldn’t see each other anymore.”