Good Intentions (Welcome to Paradise) (Volume 2) (29 page)

“Mrs. Ashford doesn’t and has made it more than clear that I’m not good enough for Evan.”

“Seriously?”

I nod. “She’s going to set him up with women there. I know she is.”

“So you’re worried he’ll meet someone else? That doesn’t sound like the guy you told me about.”

“This is not really about him, but her. I don’t trust his mother.”

We round the corner and head toward our first classes.

Sarah sighs. “Well, you can’t control anyone else, but yourself. So you have to decide if you can handle a long term relationship or not.”

Smiling, I say, “I want this with him and I totally trust him. I mean, the guy can’t help that he’s fuckhot.”

Making me feel better, she laughs. “That he can’t.”

We see lots of our friends that we haven’t seen all summer. I’m smiling because it’s good to be back. I loved Hawaii, but this is what I’ve known for the last three years and it’s my comfort zone.

My first class drags with boring first day stuff like lesson plans, project assignments, syllabus, expectations, etc… My mind drifts to Evan and the way we hung up last night. He was the first thing I thought of when I woke up and I checked my phone. He didn’t call back after I hung up. He’s been on my mind ever since.

The second class on my schedule is called ‘English Literature in the Business World.’ Sounds interesting and since I’m determined to put my English major into use, I thought this class would give me a nice perspective. It’s a bonus that Sarah is also in the class.

We meet in front of the auditorium and go inside, grabbing the last two seats together. We’re having a perfectly lovely conversation of gossip mixed with opinions about our first class when someone plops down next to me, slams their notebook on the tiny desk and announces, “Hey, good lookin’. Summer treated you well.”

I know that voice without even turning. Sarah tenses, and I close my eyes to calm the anger building inside of me. Slowly, I turn. “Actually, it was my boyfriend who treated me well this summer, Will.”

“Don’t get your panties in a twist. You’re always so high strung—”

I add that phrase to the list of the most annoying things men say to women, and reply, “Why are you sitting here if you think that of me?” I cross my arms defensively across my chest.

“So you have a boyfriend, huh? When did this happen? Is he back in Denver? Just sayin’ cuz I noticed you’re quick with the comebacks and judging by how you use that mouth, I would say you’ve learned a thing or two about pleasing a—”

“Will, how’s it going?”

Sarah, myself, and Will all turn to see a tall, handsome man with dark hair and light eyes and a kind smile. I can’t tell if his eyes are green or blue from my seat, but I can tell how hot this guy is. He speaks again before any of us have a chance. “I’m sorry for interrupting, but Will is one of the few people I know since I transferred here.”

Sarah and I remain silent as he sits down on the other side of Will. Will finally acknowledges him, but is clearly irritated with his timing. “Hey Ryan, this is—”

“Sarah, I’m Sarah,” she says with a goofy grin on her face while reaching over me to shake his hand. “And this is Mallory.”

I take that as my cue for an intervention. “I’m really sorry you have such bad taste in friends like Will here.”

Three of us laugh at the joke, well, kind of a joke…okay, I wasn’t kidding at all.

Will huffs and says, “Mallory is a little bitter after the break-up. But she’s got one helluva ass on her.”

Ryan punches him in the arm as my mouth drops open. “That’s not how you talk about a woman. Got it?”

“Whatever dude,” He says, pissed. “She’s pretty frigid. I’m only warning you. Don’t waste your time on her.”

“I think I’m a big boy and can make my own decisions, but thanks,
dude
.”

The teacher interrupts their little spat as my eyes fill with tears. Trying to contain the tears Will’s words incite, I turn away. Sarah whispers, “Don’t let him get to you. He’s so not worth it, Mal.”

I nod once, unable to speak. I refuse to show my weaknesses to Will again this year. Last year was bad enough. I’m not the same person anymore. I’ve changed. Hawaii changed me. Evan changed me and I’m stronger because of him.

What happens next is a punishment—a punishment for being happy. I don’t think karma can actually live peacefully on my side. She has to come and bite me in the ass to remind me of my place in the universe. As karma sinks her teeth into the flesh of my bottom, the professor declares that the four of us are assigned together for the class project we have due in four months. And, it will determine our final grade. The professor continues by saying there will be no whining or switching teams—the teams are final.

I roll my eyes and exclaim, “Damn it!” My voice carries further than I intend and the professor eyes me as Will laughs.

“Hey, Mallory,” Ryan says, whispering, “I look forward to proving this asshole wrong about you.” He elbows Will in a friendly manner then focuses back on me, smiles and winks.

I don’t know if I should be more worried about having to work on this project with my cheating ex-boyfriend or his very flirtatious and cute friend.

 

 

Walking down the streets of Manhattan, I try to blend into the bustle of the crowded sidewalk, but I don’t fit in, everything feels off here compared to Hawaii. I need to surf. I need that mental escape hitting the waves gives me. My shoulder is knocked by a passerby, no big deal, it happens in a city of eight million. But then I hear, “Evan Ashford?”

My gaze jerks up and over my shoulder to see a young guy, well-groomed in a black sports coat and red pocket square standing behind me. It takes a second longer for my mind to place him though I should have recognized him immediately. “Oh, wow, Landon Abbott… Hey, I didn’t expect to run into anyone. What a surprise. How’s it going?” I smile at my old high school buddy.

“Going great,” he says, eagerly shaking my hand. “How long are you back in the city for?”

“I’ve only been back a few days.”

He wraps his arm over my shoulders, and says, “Perfect timing. I’m meeting Hamilton and Grant around the corner for some drinks. You should come with me. It’d be good to have the old gang back together.”

Pushing back my white sleeve, I look at my silver Omega watch—a watch I wear only when I’m in Manhattan. I figure I have time. It’s Sunday and I finally finished working, trying to catch up on the files for the upcoming presentation my dad trusted me with and could really use a beer about now.

What I didn’t count on discovering is that ‘the gang’ still hangs out together. The guys are in their last year of university and fulfilling their internship credits at each other’s family’s company—cushy gig for sure. They drive in on the weekends from Harvard and Princeton and stay through Tuesdays before returning back for other classes. Being around them again gives me an unexpected perspective. I can suddenly see myself in this world again—working, making loads of money, and living the high life like in the old days with my friends.

Matching them drink for drink, I fit right in, looking the part and slipping right back into my old self.

This group always attracted the ladies and tonight is no different. Through my drunken haze, seeing the short skirts and long legs make me miss Mallory. I want to sneak away, needing to call her so she can ground me back to her and Hawaii. I’m not ready to play this role again, the one I’m expected to play. But being here with the boys, I’m distracted by another round of shots. We end up at Hamilton’s apartment. More drinks and several hours later, I finally have an opportunity to call my girl.

She answers in a soft and sleepy voice, “Hello.”

“Hi, baby, did I wake you?” I say into the phone, trying not to sound drunk even though I’m starting to spin. My tongue isn’t cooperating which is so damn frustrating. I hope she can’t tell.

She pauses a moment before asking, “Evan, what time is it?” There’s an edge to her tone that puts me on guard. Maybe calling her wasn’t such a good idea, after all.

Looking down at my watch, I have trouble making out the numbers. “I dunno.” I hold my hand over the phone, and yell over my shoulder, “Hey, turn down the music.” That’s when I spot some girls I don’t know in the living room.
Where’d they come from?

“Babe, it’s late.”

“Uh, yeah, it’s late here too, I guess. I just had a tough day…” I chuckle, a joke Abbott told earlier making me laugh again. “…I’m blowing off steam. I’ll be going home soon. It’s been too long since I saw you. I need to see you, baby. I need to touch you and fuck—”

“Evan! That music is loud. Where are you?”

“Don’t be mad. I ran into some buddies.”

“I’m not mad,” her tone is defensive. “I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself, but I need sleep.” If she was standing in front of me, I bet she would’ve been stamping her foot at that last statement. She’s such a feisty turn-on.

“I miss you,” I whisper, my shoulder dropping as I close my eyes. I should let her sleep, but I’m a selfish bastard and need more. “Will you do me a teeny tiny favor? Please, pretty please?”

There’s a long pause, but she responds, soft and open to me, “Okay, what?”

“Touch yourself for me. Touch yourse—”

“I’m hanging up now. Goodbye, Evan. Call me tomorrow,” she says, cutting me off before hanging up.

I thought that’s what she wanted from me. Fuck! It’s what I want from her. I miss her. I miss fucking her. I miss fucking. I miss everything about her and she hung up on me.

“Hey, Ashford, Grant has the clean shit. You in?”

I turn around and see Grant pouring a vile of white powder onto the glass coffee table in front of him. I stare, remembering how much I liked the drug in high school. My shock is evident in my reaction. “You’re still doing that shit? Fuck, that’s messed up.” I run my hand slowly through my hair, the inner devil wanting to come out and play. He takes a seat on my shoulder and whispers, ‘Don’t you miss the freedom it gave you—no worries, no stress, just fun. We haven’t had fun together since you met
her
and became all boring. Let’s show the boys how to really party.’

“What? Like you don’t use anymore? You’ve been lounging in the Pacific for well over a year maybe two now. I know you can’t be clean,” Grant says, an arrogant bite to his tone.

“Actually, I haven’t done it since high school. The last time was with you jackholes.” I watch as Landon draws it in through his nose and a longing deep inside makes my mouth salivate.

“Hi, we haven’t been introduced,” a tall, leggy blonde says, sidling up to me with traces of white powder rimming her nose.

Right then! It was right then that I knew it wasn’t the drugs, or the drinks, girls, or this city I wanted. Not only would they get me into trouble if I did cave to any of them, but I’d screw up everything with Mallory. It doesn’t matter that she hung up on me. I deserved that for being an asshole to her. “I’ve gotta go. Thanks for the drinks,” I announce, grabbing my jacket and rushing out the door and down the hall without looking back.

Behind me, the music returns to full volume, and Hamilton calls, “Ashford, man, come back.” He doesn’t leave the doorway, letting me escape.

I don’t turn around or stop. I don’t even hesitate. This night was wrong on so many levels and I should have kept walking when I heard Abbott say my name on the street. Lesson learned.

Unrolling my sleeves, I button them at the cuff and shove them into my pockets. I walk two blocks before flagging a cab down. One short taxi ride later, I’m back at the place that I’m once again calling home. There is nothing about this place that feels like home to me and I just pissed my real home off with a drunken sex call in the middle of the night.

I’ll make amends with her tomorrow, hoping she can get the sleep she needs tonight. The old me would have called her right away, but I want her to rest, so I control myself and go to bed instead.

The next day, I wake with a splitting headache and glazed eyes. Not a good look for the office and especially not a Monday morning. I shower which helps not only the way I look, but my mindset. After dressing, I go across the hall and have breakfast. My parents’ chef serves up scrambled eggs, bacon, and pancakes.

While I’m shoveling it all in, I realize I didn’t eat last night. That definitely didn’t help my state. Those guys were assholes in high school and they’re still assholes; assholes with too much money at their disposal, too many women at their disposal, and too much time on their hands. Any of those are bad enough on their own, but mix them together and it’s a dangerous combination. I need to stay focused on the reason I’m back in Manhattan and it’s not to turn back into one of them again.

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