Dearest Clementine (16 page)

“Why did you ever break up? He’s fucking hot,” the friend, who has a thick New York accent, says loudly, only to have the other one shush her.

“Tammy, shit. Could you be any louder?”

I guess everyone has a friend like that. The loud one. My eyes travel to a bag of Doritos, and I decide to splurge and get a large bag for my roommates. I straighten up and pivot to the opposite wall of goodies and hunt for something chocolate.

“I’ll get him back. We were good together. I think he’s dating someone, but whatever. He simply doesn’t know he needs me. Yet. And if he thinks he can blow me off, he has another thing coming. No stupid bitch is going to stand in my way.”

Junior Mints would be really good melted over popcorn, which we already have at home.
This evil idea blossoms, and I grab a box.

With an armload of junk food, I round the corner and collide with a whirlwind of crimson.

“What the—” An angry redhead glares at me as my snacks go flying.

“I’m so sorry.” I try not to laugh at my clumsiness, but the chick doesn’t look amused. In fact, she pales as she watches me pick my snacks off the floor.
She looks familiar. Really familiar.

The friend nudges Angry Red, but she doesn’t say anything. In fact, she watches me pay for my items, and I sense her eyes on my back when I leave.

* * *

A few hours later, my phone buzzes, and I’m expecting another ridiculous sext from Jenna—she’s been sending them every five minutes from the other side of the apartment—but it’s Gavin.

I have to babysit the children tonight at the dorms. Come keep me company.

We’re supposed to go climbing again after classes tomorrow. I’m so tempted to hang out with him, but I’m not sure if that’s smart.

Me:
I have to write.

Gavin:
Do it here and bring some food. Chinese?

I debate this for a good ten minutes while we banter back and forth. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about him since I saw him earlier today, and I’m starting to get worried. When I think about him, I get warm and fuzzy and mildly euphoric.

Shit. This is bad.

But Gavin won’t take no for an answer. He says he’s going to starve, and the next time I’m drunk, I’m going to have to find some other amazingly strong man to carry me home.
Jeez.

I write him back:
Fine. Since I’m your friend, I’ll bring you dinner.

Gavin:
My friend whose ass looks amazing in those little black shorts.

What?

Gavin:
Kidding. Kind of. Get over here.

Me:
Bossy! Give me half an hour.

* * *

I groan, frustrated, and close my laptop. I’ve been trying to write for the last forty-five minutes, but the details keep tripping me up.

“What’s wrong?” Gavin asks as he leans back in his chair. Tonight, he’s writing an article about the need for greater security on campus. Chinese food cartons litter his desk. I’m in my usual spot, stretched out on his bed.

This is going to sound dumb. “I was debating whether I want the love interest, Aiden, to be a flowers guy.”

“What do you mean?”

“Is he the kind of guy who gives flowers or not? Romantic or tough guy? I’m still working out my character sketches.” I groan. “I should have this figured out by now.”

His eyebrows arch. “Well, what do you like? Do you like getting flowers?”

I draw a blank. The problem, once again, is that I have no experience in this area.

Laughing, I say, “I have no idea.”

“This should be easy. When a guy brought you flowers, did you like it?” I hear the humor in his voice.

If I make this admission, he’s going to think I’m a total moron. He puts his pen down and turns to face me.

“Clementine, please tell me someone has given you flowers.”

I can’t outright lie to him. I guess I could, but this seems like a stupid reason, not that there’s ever really a good reason to be dishonest.

I shake my head slowly. “Not that I remember. I guess I’m having a bit of a dry spell, but see, that’s what happens when you don’t date. No dating means no flowers.”

“What about Daren? Weren’t you guys pretty serious?”

“Yeah, but I grew up with him. We made mud pies together, and I crawled into his room with a handful of worms. I don’t think he saw me as the kind of girl who liked flowers.” I tap my pen on the top of my laptop while I mull it over. “But I think I’d like flowers. I mean, who the hell doesn’t like flowers?” I smile. Talking about this character stuff is helpful. I open my laptop and start typing again. “Thanks, Gav. I’m obviously making this too hard. My professor is right. I do need to loosen up.”

My phone buzzes with a text from my brother. Reading it makes my stomach tighten and the happy buzz from writing disappear.

“Uh, no,” I murmur to myself as I type a message.

“No?” Gavin asks.

“Jax wants me to go home and pack.” I shake my head.

“Pack what? I thought you didn’t go home.”

“I don’t.” I chew on my nail as I think about it. “My brother wants me to pack up my bedroom because our parents are about to demolish it and put in a workout room or a walk-in closet or some other unnecessary luxury that will help distract them from their rich-people problems.”

When I finish responding to Jax, I toss my phone back in my bag, and I look up to find Gavin staring.

“So are you going to do it?” he asks.

Will he think I’m a freak if I tell him the truth? That I don’t care? I decide on the truth, or a small version of it at least. “I told him not to worry about it, to let them throw my stuff out.”

Gavin’s eyes look heavy with questions, but he doesn’t ask, and I don’t offer to explain my fucked-up relationship with my parents. He returns to writing his assignment. I like that about him. He knows when to back off.

After another hour of work, he stretches and gets up from his desk. “Baby, have you eaten enough?” he asks as he gathers up the cartons of food.

“Yeah, thanks.”
There it is again. Baby.
I watch him for some recognition of this term of endearment, but he’s tossing paper plates into the trash and straightening his desk.

My heart is beating erratically.
It is one word, for God’s sakes.
I am a total spaz. Glancing at the clock, I realize it’s getting late. Maybe this is a good time to head home.

I close my laptop and crawl off his bed. “I have math at eight in the morning tomorrow, so I should get going.”

He grins as he walks over and wraps his arms around me. I drop my head on his chest, closing my eyes, relishing the feel of him.

“Your favorite class,” he says, his voice deep and almost melodic. I grin against him. “We’re still on for climbing tomorrow?”

“Yup.”

“Thanks again for editing my article the other day. Where did you learn about leads and attribution?” Gavin asks as he rubs my back.

“I wrote a few articles for the high-school newspaper. Nothing special, but I learned the structure and a few terms.”

“You’re handy.” He looks down and smiles, his eyes shadowed by his long eyelashes.

“Glad I could help. I think it’s only fair after all of your expert makeout tutelage.”

“Speaking of which, I have a few thoughts for you,” he says, leaning down and rubbing his nose against mine.

“Really? I’m all—”

I can’t finish because his mouth is on mine, and as we’re kissing, he pushes me up against the door. Shoves me, actually, and it’s hot. His body is warm and hard against me. Tracing my hands along his strong shoulders, I think about how he scooped me onto the washing machine like I was weightless. I love these arms. There is something so safe about being wrapped up in Gavin Murphy, like I can forget everything when I’m with him, the past, the hurt, the humiliation.

I thread my fingers through his thick, soft hair as our kisses grow deeper. His tongue tangles with mine, sending a bolt of electricity to my core, and I don’t want to stop to breathe. After a few minutes, he groans and parts from me.

“If I don’t stop now, I won’t let you go home.” He leans down for another kiss, this one soft, tender. He lingers against my lips for a second and then runs his nose against my jawline, stopping so he can gently bite my earlobe.

I am a nuclear explosion. Fucking Chernobyl. My face is flushed, and parts of me pound like a gavel.

“Have I ever told you that you’re irresistible?” he whispers as I tilt my head to give him access to my neck. Yes, kiss my neck!

“No, I think I’d remember that.” I have chills running through my body from stem to stern, and I know I have to leave this minute before I give into what I really want to do. “You’re pretty damn sexy yourself.”

“Let me walk you home,” he whispers into my ear.

“No, you have work to do, and I live a block away.”

He holds me tighter. “I don’t want you walking around by yourself this late at night.”

“Campus security has never been tighter. I promise I’ll be okay. I’ll head straight home.” I look up at him, getting lost in those hypnotic green eyes. “I’ll call you as soon as I get in.”

He sighs, nodding slowly before he presses his lips to my temple and murmurs, “Goodnight, dearest Clementine.”

-
13 -

It’s been a hectic few days, and I hate to admit this, but I need my Gavin fix. He had to cancel our usual Friday workout at the gym because he had a last-minute assignment for the
Globe
, and we couldn’t grab lunch on Saturday because I had to work a double shift. But this morning he mentions he’s hanging with Ryan, so when Jenna invites me to do laundry at her boyfriend’s house, I can’t resist tagging along.

Ryan’s band is sitting around the kitchen table when we arrive. Kade sees me and rolls his eyes, and I resist the urge to drown him in the kitchen sink. Is it my imagination or is he a bigger asshole than I remember?

Poker chips are strewn about, and a few empty pizza boxes litter the counter. I walk up behind Gavin, who looks up at me and smiles so brightly, I feel like I’m bathing in the sun. He’s standing up to hug me when his phone buzzes.

“Babe, can you hold my cards for a second?” he asks, kissing me on the cheek before he runs off to take the call. I look at the hand he left me, which I quickly hide against my shirt. When I glance up, everyone is looking at me.

“What?”

Ryan’s mouth drops open dramatically before it slides into a grin.

“I see you and Gavin are getting along.”

“Yeah, we’re friends.”

“Friends with muthafucking benefits!” he yells. All the guys start laughing.

“Why do you make everything sound so lewd?” I ask, narrowing my eyes.

“Because Gavin is my boy, and he deserves lewd, a whole lot of lewd, like all up in his face.”

Oh, Jesus.

Jenna, who must have caught the last part of this conversation, walks up and leans in to whisper something in his ear. He looks down and nods.

“Sorry I’m giving you shit, Clem. I’ll shut up now.”

Gavin walks back in, tucking his phone in his pocket before he slides his arm around my waist, pulling me into his lap as he sits. Everyone is staring at me—again—except for Ryan, who is trying hard not to smile as he becomes very interested in his hand. I’m sure I must be crimson by now. The only thing keeping me on Gavin’s lap is the fact that I haven’t seen him in several days, and, God, I miss his touch.

“Ante up, bitches,” Ryan says, throwing in some chips.

Thankful Ryan is switching gears, I reach into my bag and pull out an envelope and hand it to the cute guy I’m sitting on.

“I thought I’d ask if you wanted these before I give them to Ryan.”

Gavin takes one hand and reaches around me to open it.

“BC vs. USC tickets?” He turns to me. “Seriously?”

“Yes, compliments of one Daren Sloan. They’re good seats too. Fifty-yard line, second row.”

His jaw tightens slightly. “You weren’t kidding about him sending you tickets?”

“I would never joke about that,” I say, brushing a strand of hair out of his face.

He stills beneath me. “So he’s been sending you tickets to every home game for three, going on four years?”

“Something like that.”

He frowns, getting an adorable crinkle in his forehead.

Ryan sits up in his chair. “You’re giving the BC tickets to this asshole? Clem,
remember
who moved all your crap for the last two summers.” He tosses his cards on the table.

I chuck a pretzel at him. “If Gavin wants, he can take you with him. I didn’t know you were such a football fanatic, Ryan, or I would have given you all the other tickets I threw out.”