I shook my head. Who told Jessica she was funny? I stared at her until she finished laughing at her own joke.

  “It doesn’t matter, does it?”

  “No, not really. Unless he takes you home to meet his family.”

  “I’m not marrying the guy. We’re having dinner. He’s cute and kind of intense and I like him.”

  “I guess it doesn’t hurt to have a millionaire’s son as a fuck buddy.”

  I rolled my eyes as I grabbed my purse and headed downstairs to wait for Josh.

  I came from a wealthy suburb in Dallas and had been around money all my life. My parents made a good living and provided a good life for us.

  The conversation with Jessica was fresh in my mind, and I tried my best not to freak out.

  As I waited for Josh, I looked across the street and Griffin Library stared back at me. I took a deep breath and tried to ward off an anxiety attack.

  I took out my phone and typed into Google: Griffin Family Florida

  I caught a glimpse of the first page—an image of Josh. A tall, gray-haired man with a thin-lipped smile stood next to him, and two women with semi-scowls on their faces were in front of them. I hit the home button and put the phone down. It seemed shady to find out about his family like that; I wanted him to tell me.

  I hated Jessica for putting doubts in my head. My self-esteem took a nosedive, and I stared at the ground.

  I needed to get out of my head and have fun. Screw the rest of it. I liked Josh, and I looked forward to getting to know him on my own.

  ***

  Joshua Elijah Griffin, IV

  I drove over to the freshmen dorm, pulling my shirt away from my skin, and tried to stop sweating. You’d think I’d never been on a date before. My expectations for tonight were through the roof. I liked this girl, and by the end of the night, my goal was to make her like me.

  She was waiting for me at the steps in front of her dorm. No time for additional pep talks. She always seemed in the power position. I wasn’t used to girls being so aggressive unless they were drunk. Carrington needed no liquid courage.

  “Hey, Josh,” she waved and met me at the bottom of the steps. She wrapped her arms around my neck, and I stiffened at first, but relaxed and hugged her back.

  “Hey.” I let go and stood at arm’s length, looking her up and down. “You look beautiful.”

  She wore a solid green mini dress. It fit tight in the right places and loose in other parts. The black jacket and black boots gave her a biker chick vibe, but with a preppy chick twist. She blushed from the compliment. I loved that she was trying so hard, different from our first social encounter.

  “Thank you.” She leaned in and kissed me on the cheek, and it was my turn to blush.

  I grabbed her hand and laced my fingers through hers. She squeezed my hand tight.

  “Where are we going?” she asked.

  “It’s a surprise,” I answered as we approached my car parked at the curb.

  “Nice car,” she said.

  We walked up to my black 1960 Porsche. Restored with original parts, it was the coolest thing I owned, but not exactly inconspicuous.

  “Thanks.” I opened the door and watched her slide in the seat. Her skirt hitched up and she pulled it down and placed her hands in her lap. I found her modesty adorable, considering we’d slept together a few days ago. The idea of seeing her in my bed made me smile. She caught me staring at her legs and when I continued to look despite being caught, she stopped trying to hide.

  We challenged each other, and if it were any other girl, I would have been annoyed. But Carrington intrigued me. I climbed in my car and started the engine. It vibrated and she let out the hottest little giggle. I wanted to skip dinner.

  “Have you been off campus since you got here?”

  “No. I don’t have a car,” she said.

  “You haven’t seen what Tallahassee has to offer?”

  “Yeah, no. It seems like any other small town.”

  “Smaller than Dallas, anyway.”

  “You’ve been to Dallas?” she asked.

  “Yeah, a few times. My dad does a lot of business there.”

  “I don’t miss it. I couldn’t wait to get out of Texas.”

  I grabbed her hand, in her lap; I loved having my hands on her thigh. She rubbed my hand with her thumb, and it made me think about her hands rubbing other parts of me. When we touched, her skin shivered. Her touch affected me the same way.

  We drove in silence the rest of the way. All I could think of were my fingers on her leg. It made my mouth dry. I welcomed and despised the moment I had to remove it to turn into the restaurant parking lot.

  We pulled up to an old white mansion. The porch stretched out across the front of the house. An old weathered wooden sign with the words The Waters Hole, est. 1950 hung at an angle on one of the white columns. I turned the car off and watched her as she studied the house.

  “This is a restaurant?” she asked. “Funny name.”

  “Yeah, apparently the Waters family built the house in the early nineteen hundreds. Mr. Waters left the place to his grandson when he died. The grandson went to culinary school and decided to turn the place into a restaurant. The original name was Waters, but it took the place a while to get going, like thirty years. The guy’s family told him he might as well bury his money in a hole in the backyard, so they added Hole and it stuck. ”

  She laughed. “You’ve been here before?”

  “Yeah, it’s one of my favorite places. Come on. You’re going to love it.”

  I got out of the car, and she waited for me to open her door. I offered my hand to help her out of the car. When my hand touched her lower back, she shivered. As we neared the door, one of the owners of the restaurant walked out with an unlit cigarette between his lips. He started to light it, but stopped when he spotted us.

  “Joshua the fourth,” Mr. Waters said. “Is that you? What are you doing up here in these parts? I thought you defected to the other side.”

  “Hi, Mr. Waters.” He pulled me into a tight bear hug. The man’s huge beer gut always made me uncomfortable.

  “It’s so good to see you, young man. You look good,” he said.

  “Thanks.” I stepped back. “Mr. Waters, this is my friend, Carrington.”

  “Carrington,” he said as he bowed. “Aren’t you a pretty little thing?”

  Carrington smiled in a polite manner. She gripped my hand in both of hers and stood behind me. He reached out to shake her hand, and she took it but dropped it quick. Mr. Waters made no qualms about checking her out.

  “You got a table for us?” I asked.

  He opened the door and led us into the dining room. She squeezed my hand as we walked into a packed restaurant. It felt like the entire dining room stopped eating to watch us. We followed Mr. Waters to the back dining room.

  “Here you go. You and your lovely lady have the best seat in the house,” Mr. Waters declared as he pulled the chair out for Carrington. I noticed she seemed to hesitate before sitting down.

  I smiled to reassure her.

  “Thanks, Mr. Waters. This is great,” I said.

  “What are we drinking?”

  “Water for right now.”

  “Your dad has some Stags Leap in the cellar if you want a bottle.”

  “No, not tonight.”

  When Mr. Waters left, Carrington relaxed.

  “You okay?” I asked.

  “Everyone is staring at us.” She played with her bracelet. I reached out and placed my hands over hers.

  “Actually, they are staring at you. You look amazing.”

  She smiled but held her head down and stared at the table.

  “Your dad keeps wine here?” she asked.

  “Yeah, most of the regulars do. It’s a tradition for FSU alumni. You want some wine?”

  “No, thanks. I’m not twenty-one yet, but you go ahead.”

  “Age doesn’t matter here.”

  In the end, we just stuck with water.

  Mr. Waters returned with menus and a special appetizer. He made Carrington taste the shrimp before he would leave us alone. It seemed he was fixated on her mouth. She had sexy lips.

  “Everything is good here.” I placed my menu down, watching her scrutinize it; her face was all scrunched up.

  “You okay?” I asked.

  “Will you stop asking me that?”

  “You seem uncomfortable.”

  “I don’t know. I guess I’m not used to being the center of attention.” She placed her menu down. “You may think this sounds crazy, but I’ve never noticed people noticing me so much before.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You think these people are looking at me because I am so beautiful. I feel like everyone is saying to themselves, what is Josh Griffin the fourth doing with that black girl.”

  “That’s ridiculous.”

  “It’s the vibe I get. I never felt this back home, but here I am more acutely aware that I am African American. It’s a weird feeling.”

  “No one has been mean to you, have they?”

  “No, nothing malicious. It’s more a feeling of morbid curiosity amplified because everyone knows you.”

  I sat back, trying to think of how to make her relax. She continued, “What did that guy mean about you defecting?”

  “Last year, I went to University of Florida.”

  “What?” She sat back and crossed her arms over her chest.

  I laughed at her expression.

  “Okay, maybe it’s not me. It’s you.”

  We both laughed.

  “I’m sorry. It’s not my intention to make you feel uncomfortable.”

  “Actually, you’re the only person tonight who hasn’t made me feel weird.”

  Score.

  Chapter Ten

  Carrington Olivia Butler

  I relaxed as the night went on.

  Mr. Waters ogled me like a dirty old man and wasn’t subtle about it. When we walked in, I thought all eyes were on me, but maybe the scrutiny had more to do with Josh.

  When we reached our table, the other patrons went back to their dinner, and I found myself checking out the dining room. The walls were covered in pastel striped wallpaper and the floors where hardwood. The room we were dining in had arranged tables for two and couples occupied every table. We were sitting right in the middle.

  The linen tablecloths were elegant, but people drank beer and ate seafood with their hands.

  During dinner, Josh answered my questions with the most vague and non-committal answers. I picked up that sharing this stuff was hard for him, but I had to give him credit for trying.

  The way he studied me—he made me feel special, but it freaked me out. He knew how I was feeling, but he also tried to help me feel more comfortable, which made me like him even more.

  Our dinner arrived and we ate slowly, continuing our conversation.

  “What made you go to FU, considering your family’s legacy at FSU?” I asked.

  “I’m not sure I can explain it in a way you can understand.”

  “Try me.”

  He took a bite of his steak, sat his fork down, and leaned back while he chewed. I assumed when he continued that it would be the same vague answers he’d delivered all night, but this topic appeared to spark his interest. He wanted to share this story.

  “Okay. Well, my entire family went to FSU. We have a freaking building named after us. My great-great-grandmother was in the first graduation class back when it was an all-girl’s school.”

  “That’s so cool.”

  “It’s not as cool as it sounds. I don’t know. At first I wasn’t going to college, and when I finally decided to go, it was too much pressure to follow in the footsteps of generations of Griffins.”

  “What did your family say when you told them you were going to UF?”

  “My dad threw a book across the room and told me what a disgrace I was to the Griffin name.”

  I smiled and paused to wait for him to laugh. He didn’t.

  “My whole family gathered at our place in Miami, and it was like an intervention to get me to change my mind.”

  He leaned over the table.

  “My dad even threatened to take my trust fund away.”

  He paused after the last statement and waited for me to respond. I remained quiet and tried to keep a neutral face.

  “By the end of the weekend, I told them they had convinced me, but I still had every intention of going to U of F. They didn’t notice until a month after school started.”

  “What happened?”

  “My dad sent my sister to come and get me.”

  “Your sister tried to drag you back to FSU?”

  “Yeah, something like that, but I convinced her to leave me alone, and I told her to tell my dad that if he let me stay, I would pledge PKP.”

  “So, the fraternity was more important than the school.”

  “Not really, but in the long run, I was able to convince him it would benefit me more. I told him that schools dissed each other all the time, but PKPs are PKPs everywhere.”

  “He left you alone?”

  “Yeah, but it was more of a control thing. He made me promise that if I went to graduate school, I would go to FSU.”

  “Are you going to graduate school?”

  “No.”

  “So, if it wasn’t some FU—pardon the pun—to your family, why didn’t you go?”

  “You ever wanted to go somewhere where no one knows who you are? No one had any expectations of you? Someplace you could start fresh?”

  I could relate to what he was saying. He had no idea how much I understood.

  “My parents didn’t care where I went to school. They couldn’t wait for me to get out of their house.”

  “You don’t get along with your parents?” Josh asked.

  “We don’t not get along, if that makes sense.”

  His face remained blank. I got the feeling my issues paled in comparison to his, but I continued anyway.

  “My brother is like twelve years older than me, so he’s been out of the house for a while. My parents were done, then I came along, and they couldn’t wait for me to leave.” I noticed the first hint of compassion in his eyes and Josh’s concern touched my heart and made me want to talk. We abandoned our food and the sad look on his face matched what he always held in his eyes.

  “That sucks.”

  “I can understand wanting to go where no one knows you. My high school class had twelve hundred fifty people in it and every major school in Texas, Louisiana, and Oklahoma had at a least a hundred classmates. The idea of stepping onto a campus with a hundred people who already knew me—awful.”

  “I figured you were one of the popular kids at school.”

  “My boyfriend played football, and because of him, I hung out with the cool kids. But I never really fit in. My core group of friends even grew apart in my senior year. I was just so ready to graduate and move on. Ready for something new.”

  Josh reached across the table and took my hand. The expression on his face told me he understood.

  “It’s a good thing you met me, then.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “I’ll show you something new.”

  We finished dinner and headed back to campus. We parked the car at the frat house, and after we got out, he took my hand and led me down to the street. I’d enjoyed dinner and liked getting to know Josh. We were so much alike it scared me. He held a lot back, but he was beginning to let me in.

  My attraction to him was growing as the night wore on. Every time he touched me, I shivered as I tried to stifle my audible sigh. I liked having his hands on me. The way he took my hand at dinner and the way he led me out of the restaurant with a light hand on the small of my back. Or the forceful, yet gentle, way he took my hand, kissed it, and held it to his chest as we walked down fraternity row.

  When we reached the quad, we stopped by the steps. Josh took a seat and I sat next to him. He pulled one of my legs over his and I found it hard to concentrate with his hand moving up and down my thigh, like on the car ride to the restaurant.

  “Do I make you nervous?” he asked.

  “No. I’m just not used to guys being so affectionate.”

  “I can’t imagine any guy being with you and keeping his hands to himself.”

  “You had no problem when I passed out in your bed.”

  “I would never take advantage of you, but that was the longest night of my life.”

  He leaned over and kissed me. His lips were softer than I remembered. I pushed my leg into him but tried to move it when he responded underneath me. He held my leg close to him and kissed me deeper.

  He brushed my hair off my shoulder and kissed my neck. I tilted my head to give him better access, leaning into his kisses. He moved his hand under my skirt more, and it brought me back to reality. I pulled away.

  “We’d better cool it,” I suggested.

  “I can’t help it.” He bit my bottom lip.

  “Ouch.”

  “I could taste you all day.”

  “Why do you say things like that to me?” I moved my leg and sat facing forward.

  “Like I said, I can’t help it,” he said. “I like you. I told you I wanted to be your boyfriend. This is how I treat my girlfriends.”

  “Well, I don’t want to be treated like your girlfriends.”

  He leaned back and dropped my hand.

  “You don’t know how special you are?”

  “Maybe I don’t.”

  “Well, how about I tell you every day until you believe it for yourself?”

  ***

  Josh Elijah Griffin, IV

  One date with Carrington Olivia Butler, and I was hooked. She captured my heart and consumed my mind. Her beauty was only the beginning. I needed someone like Carrington in my life. I sounded like a pussy, but I couldn’t help it—I was in love.

  She was so open and honest.

  I ended up sharing more about my family than I intended. She made me want to tell her stuff. She knew more than she let on, but if someone had tipped her off to the worst, she still went out with me anyway.