Chapter Three – Megan
No one knows.
It’s something I have to keep reminding myself of. No one knows. Not that it stops the intense feelings of near-peace and guilt that are warring inside of me. It’s the age old cliché – your head vs. your heart.
My head is telling me what I know - I’m a terrible person. I betrayed my best friend by sleeping with his best friend.
My heart is telling me what I should know – I’m not a terrible person. For once in my life I went after what I wanted without thinking of the consequences.
Does that make me reckless and unfeeling? Okay, so maybe unfeeling is a little bit of an exaggeration, but reckless? A part of me thinks so, but then that’s also the same part of me that thinks I’m not a terrible person, so I’m unsure if that bit of my body is particularly trustworthy.
Thoughts are swirling round my mind with the force of a tornado. One sticks out stronger than the rest – was last night a mistake?
I did the one thing I said I’d never do. Sleep with my best friend’s best friend.
Yeah – that plan backfired the second I looked into Aston’s misty gray eyes the first day of college. I never doubted for a second there’d be something between us. Sometimes you just know.
So maybe that’s why, even as I strived to keep him and his slithery snake away from me, I still somehow ended up falling for his cocky smile and man-whore ways that could rival Braden’s.
Not that I love the man-whore ways. I want to set fire to the fake hair, fake nails, and fake eyelashes of every girl that sleeps with him. Because that’s what they are – and he knows it. They’re all fake.
I mean, c’mon. Is there really anything wrong with real boobs and a bedhead hairstyle? I guess that’s easy to say when you have naturally big boobs, like I do, but seriously… You could just get a push up bra.
I’m not that stupid as to feed his ego for his next f*ck buddy. I know all it’ll ever be is sex. One night. And that’s because that’s all Aston can do.
Maddie said that Braden would never fall in love – but she was wrong. He did, but Bray and Aston are in totally different leagues. If Braden crawled through girls, Aston practically sprints through them at a world record pace. Does that make me stupid?
No. Because I’ve never had any expectations for an “us.” I may be a hopeless romantic happy to get lost between the pages of a hot and steamy novel or a sigh-with-sweetness one, but I’m not na?ve enough to believe that those kinds of things happen all the time. Some people will get that kind of love that makes guys wonder and girls swoon, but not everyone.
Love is a fickle thing. Just because you have a person out there that compliments you, that calms your storm and feeds your fire, it doesn’t mean you’ll always have them. You might never meet them. You might meet them – but it just might not be the right time for you.
I’m nineteen. I know love and lust. I know the difference – and I know that for some strange reason, Aston is my storm calmer, my fire feeder. I also know it isn’t the right time for us. It might never be.
But, after last night, I’m not so sure I’m okay with that anymore.
~
I nudge the door open and step into the room, my eyes scanning the desks. A relieved sigh leaves me when I see I’ve beaten both Braden and Aston to class, and I scurry between the desks to my seat.
And drop my head to the table when I remember I switched seats with Braden permanently when he and Maddie sorted their shit out.
“Crapola,” I mutter.
The chair next to me squeaks. “If you’re trying to hide, babe, then you’re failing. I can see you.” Aston’s words crawl over me in a smooth caress, making my throat dry up and my blood boil simultaneously.
“Why would I be hiding?” I sit up and look forward, determined not to meet his eyes.
He shrugs a shoulder carelessly, twirling a pen between his fingers. I catch his every movement from the corner of my eye. His eyes are burning into the side of my head - they’re begging me to turn, begging me to look.
“Because you want me so badly you can’t bear to see me,” he says in a dramatic tone with a touch of arrogance.
My back straightens. “Clearly someone has been feeding your ego again,” I reply dryly. “Because I don’t remember ever telling you I want you.”
His bicep brushes mine as he leans forward. “Is that so?” he asks, his voice low and barely perceptible.
I fight the urge to drop my eyes to the desk. “Damn right it is.”
A fingertip trails down the back of my arm, the tingling feeling making me fight against a shiver.
“I think you’re wrong,” he whispers. “Because I’m pretty sure you said you wanted me on Saturday night – right before you dug those nails of yours into my back and wrapped your pretty little legs around my waist.”
My head snaps round to him, and our faces are inches apart. His lips are curled in a slightly smug smile, and I hate the fact that’s where my eyes fell first. I drag them away from his mouth and across the sharp planes of his face until they meet his smoky eyes.
I remember why I didn’t want to look at him. His eyes have the power to entrance me and to break me. Right now it’s the former – the silvery hint at the edge of his iris pulling me in and holding me captive. I remember why from the first touch of his lips against mine on Saturday night, nothing could have stopped us happening.
I open my mouth to speak, but Braden’s voice cuts through whatever fog Aston has put me in.
“Is he being an a*shole again?”
My eyes shift from gray to blue. “That’s a stupid question, Bray, even for you. Aston is always an a*shole.”
Braden grins and jabs Aston in the arm. “Get your slimy mitts the f*ck away from Megan, dude. I told you in Vegas, she’s got more class than your usual weekenders.”
“I know that,” Aston replies.
I tear my eyes away, trying not to laugh at the irony of his statement. Sure, I have more class than his usual weekenders, because I’m the one that won’t go begging for more. No matter how much I want to.
Maddie catches my eye across the room and smiles. “Coffee?” she mouths.
God, yes!
I nod in response, wanting to know all the details from her weekend with Braden and his parents. If anyone knows how eccentric his Mom can be, it’s me.
“I take it he doesn’t know?” Aston nudges my foot with his.
I jolt, glancing back to him. Braden’s gone. “No. It’s not exactly something I can just drop into a conversation, is it?”
“I guess not.” He rubs his thumb over his mouth. “Besides-”
“Let me guess,” I deadpan. “Your face is too good to be messed up by the fist that would meet it?”
He pauses for a second, then smirks. “I wasn’t gonna say that, but I’m glad you think so.”
“Braden isn’t the only one with a fist that could meet your face.”
“I like a girl feisty.”
I lower my voice. “And you also discard them after one quick, meaningless f*ck, so what you like doesn’t really matter much, does it?”
He stops again, and I turn away from him. My own words sting me because no matter how many times I say I don’t care, I do. No one likes to be used.
No one likes to be used by the person they want to care.
“I never said you were a quick, meaningless f*ck, Megs,” Aston whispers as the lesson starts. He leans forward in his seat, still twirling his pen between his fingers. “I’m many things – not all of them good – but I’m not a liar. I’d be lying if I said what happened between us didn’t mean anything.”
I swallow the lump in my throat, the one full of emotion that has no place here. I swallow the words forming in my mouth, the ones full of truth that have no place in a time of doubt. I settle for ignoring him and focusing on the class, because that’s the safest thing I can do right now.
Or, I try to ignore him. It’s hard when I can feel every inch of him next to me, when I know each movement of his body, and when I can sense every flicker of his eyes to me.
His leg stretches under the table, his foot knocking into mine. I tuck my feet under my chair and let my hair fall in a curtain between us. If there’s nothing blocking us, I’m too aware of him. I’m too aware of how he makes me feel.
A tug on my hair pulls me from my forced state of concentration, and my neck almost snaps with the force of my head turning.
“What?” I hiss.
He chews on the end of his pen. “Are you avoiding me?”
“I’m sitting right next to you, douchebag. How the hell can I be avoiding you?”
“Would you be sitting here if you didn’t have to?”
“No, I wouldn’t. But the same applies to every time I have the utmost pleasure of sitting next to you, so don’t think today is anything special.”
“You think I’m a jackass.”
“Do you want a gold star? It’s taken you long enough to realize.” The lesson ends, and I shove all my things in my bag, standing and hoisting it onto my shoulder.
“Just remember, Megan…” he whispers from behind me. “…Who came to who on Saturday night.”
F*ck. Smartass little dick.
“Ready to go?” Maddie holds the door open, and I glare after Aston as he passes me.
“As long as we don’t run into anymore a*sholes while we’re there, then let’s go.”
“What did he do?” she tries not to laugh.
“He’s just being Aston.” I shrug. “You know – his Gods-gift-to-women douchebag self.”
“Eh. Was he like that all weekend?”
“I have no idea. I barely saw him,” I lie, inwardly flinching. Oh, I saw him all right. I saw all of him.
“Probably just as well,” she muses, smoothing her hair from her face. “Braden nearly combusted this weekend with the thought he’d left you here in Berkeley around his, and I quote, “will f*ck anything with a pulse” friend.”
I shake my head. “Honestly, you’d think Braden has no faith in my ability to stay away from someone like that.”
And rightly so.
Maddie shrugs a shoulder. “You know what he’s like. Of course, then his mom heard his frequent use of “vulgar” words and handed him his ass on a silver platter.”
I laugh loudly. “Oh, boy. How I wish I could have seen that!”
“It was hilarious.” She giggles. “She kept asking me if he was that vile at college.”
“What did you say?” I peruse the board in Starbucks. “Caramel macchiato, please.”
“I said no and discreetly nodded a yes.”
“Damn, girl. You know Braden almost as well as me.”
She grins and orders her usual coffee and muffin. “I’m pretty sure I know him better than you do.”
“And you can stay knowing him better than me in that department,” I mutter, taking my coffee.
“Honestly, though. I thought Bray was gonna kill his mom the amount of times she embarrassed him.” Maddie giggles and we slip into armchairs. “I’ve never seen a guy blush before.”
“Braden is a blusher.” I grin, the caramel scent drifting up from my cup. “You’d never believe it, but get it right, and you’ll have him blushing like a high school freshman who just found out her skirt has been stuck in her panties all day.”
Maddie snorts. “So I found out. He really shaved her cat?”
I choke on my drink and manage a nod. “I wanted a poodle. He thought he’d be my savior and shave the cat.” I shrug. “The cat looked nothing like a poodle, and he was grounded for two weeks.”
She nods. “His mom told me that, too. And that he spent half that time in his bedroom, leaning out of his window yelling at passersby in the hope she’d get so annoyed that she would unground him.”
“True.” I snigger. “He did.”
She leans back in the chair and sighs slightly. “What about here? Anything interesting happen?”
“The usual.” I shift in my chair slightly. “Nothing too exciting.”
“In other words, Kay drunk too many shots and offended someone, Lila sneaked off with Ryan, and Aston took some girl back to his room.”
“Pretty much,” I agree, leaving out my part in it.
“And you, as always, turned down advances and disappeared back to your room. Right?” She raises an eyebrow, looking at me skeptically.
“Right.”
“Braden wasn’t here breathing down your neck…” She leans forward. “…And you didn’t take advantage of that?”
“Nope.” I took advantage of taking advantage of it instead.
“Wow.” She cocks her head to the side and smiles. “You really do need to get laid.”
“Wow.” I copy her movement, trying not to laugh. “You really do spend too much time around Braden.”
She opens her mouth, pauses, and closes it again. She smiles. “You’re probably right there. Oh, God. He’s turning me into a female Frat brother!”
“Just join a sorority?” I shrug.
Maddie purses her lips. “I don’t think I’m quite sorority material. And most of the sorority girls have probably slept with my boyfriend at some point, thus hate me because I’m “the one that bagged him.””
“That would be awkward,” I muse.
“Mhmm.”
“So where is Braden? I’m a little surprised he let you leave his side,” I tease her.
She rolls her eyes. “He’s gone to sort his crap out. In other words, interrogate Aston and make sure he didn’t pull his usual tricks and get into your pants.”