All In (Cedar Mountain University #2) (3 page)

There are no decorations adorning the walls. Unlike my room which
is a montage of pictures from basically every moment of my life. It does sport
its own bathroom, which is nice. He walks me over to the bed and I gratefully
drop down on the dark brown comforter. The room has started to spin, just a
little, and standing on my feet doesn’t seem entirely safe at the moment.

I jump when something lands on my stomach. I lift up my hands to
find I’m holding a T-shirt, obviously one of his. I look at it blankly.

“Unless you want to sleep in your skirt.”

I look back up to him. “I’m not having sex with you.”

“So you keep saying.”

“Do I?”

Laughing he reaches one hand up and over his shoulder, grabbing the
fabric of his T-shirt at the back of his neck and then yanking the shirt over
his head. My mouth goes dry.

Dear Lord in Heaven.

He.

Is.

Beautiful.

 
“If I didn’t know you were
drunk off your cute little ass, I might be offended.”

“What?”

“Never mind,” He says with another laugh. Am I supposed to be
holding a conversation? So isn’t happening. He should be in a freaking Bowflex
commercial. Slowly I force myself to come back to the conversation. “Did you
just call my ass cute?”

Shaking his head he grabs something out of his dresser. “I’m going
to go in the bathroom and get changed. You have about five minutes before I
come back in, whether you’re dressed or not. Think you can handle getting
changed on your own?”

“Possibly.”

“Yell if you have trouble.”

He disappears into the bathroom, and the still drunk part of my
brain tells me that I should yell, even though I’m having no trouble. I’d been
all about sleeping with the redhead, but for some reason using Jacob Ross as a
coping mechanism just doesn’t sound as appealing.

Well, not as appealing may not be the right statement. It sounds
totally appealing to lose myself in Jacob.
 
Just not as a tool to forget Grant.

And all this thinking is hurting my brain, and not getting my
clothes changed before he comes back into the room. I slip the shirt right over
my tank top, and then wiggle out of my skirt, laying it somewhat haphazardly on
top of my black sandals next to the bed.

I pull the covers up and over my body and am suddenly completely
surrounded by the woodsy, one hundred percent smell of male. Closing my eyes I
inhale deeply.

“Are you sniffing my sheets?”

I wince at being caught. “Umm, no?”

“I would have changed them had I known I was going to let some
random chick sleep in my bed.”

“I feel really bad, kicking you out of your bed. You’re being
weirdly nice,” I say frowning. “You don’t know either of my brothers do you?”

Jacob reaches into the small closet in the far corner of the room,
pulling out a dark green blanket. He drops it on the floor, moving silently
across the room toward the bed. Heat pools low in my belly as he stops next to
the bed, and for a second I think he’s going to crawl in next to me. And I
think I’m going to let him. Instead he stretches across me grabbing the second
pillow off the bed before stepping back.

Disappointment dances through me.

“No, which is probably a good thing, since I’m pretty sure they’d
want to kick my ass if they knew what I was thinking about their sister right
now.”

That makes me paused, because hello now I have very X-rated
thoughts racing through my head. “What are you thinking?”

“That I hate the fact that my mama taught me to be a gentleman. Go
to bed, Grace, before I forget how I was raised.”

“Oh my God.”

My mouth feels like it is full of cotton, and my head feels like
there is a drum corps practicing cadences inside of it. It’s hard to remember
the floaty feeling from the night before when I want to stab myself in the eye
and put myself out of my misery.

“Drink this.”

Opening my eyes, a shock of pain sears through my brain at the
sudden invasion of light.
 
Staring at the
absolutely gorgeous face of Jacob, who somehow only looks better first thing in
the morning, everything from the previous night comes rushing back to me.

I had told him I wouldn’t have sex with him. Multiple times.

I can tell he’s trying not to laugh at me as he holds out a glass
of water and a couple of Tylenol. I sit up in the bed, taking both in my hands
while desperately trying not to imagine what I must look like.

I’ve been growing out my pixie-cut, so my black waves hang in a
tangled mess around my head, stopping halfway down my neck. I know I didn’t
wash my face last night, and as I had been at a frat party, my normal level of
makeup had been taken up a notch so I’m sure I have raccoon eyes, and I know I
have rocking morning breath. I can taste the disgustingness.

“Drink it all. It will help.”

“Will it put me out of my misery?”

“No, but it will help you feel up to dealing with it.”

I stare down at the glass of water. “Is it magical water?” I ask before
tilting the glass up to my lips.

“Sure, if that makes you feel better. I had it kissed by the
fairies on my way up the stairs.”

I choke on the drink I had taken, feeling some of it slide down my
chin. I’m such a freaking mess, I want to cry. “You’re hilarious,” I say drily
as I wipe away the water. Jacob sits down on the edge of the bed next to my
hips, a smile still titling up one corner of his mouth. “Drink your water,
Grace. Take the pills. I’ll give you a couple of minutes to get yourself together
before I run you home.”

I stare at him. “Do we know each other?”

“No.”

“I didn’t think so.” I swallow the pills quickly while I watch him.
“So how do you know my name?”

The laughter dies out of his eyes. “We have a class together.”

“We do? Which one?”

“Intro to Humanities.”

Huh. The same class I share with Kelsey who had brought me here. “I
don’t remember seeing you there.”

“I remember you.”

Oh. Oh, my.
 
The way he says
it causes a shiver to run through my entire body. Studying his face, seeing the
heat flaring in his eyes as he says the words, I’m speechless. He meets my gaze
head-on. We stare at each other for a moment and there is suddenly a thick
layer of tension in the room.

I’m instantly reminded of the reaction I’d had to him last night.
The same sense of utter awareness drapes over my body like a second skin, and I
ball my free hand in my lap to keep myself from reaching out to touch him.

Finally he leans away, standing up and moving across the room.
 
“And that’s all the crazy stalker tendencies
I’m going to share with you today. I’ll be back in a few minutes and then we
can get you home.” He opens the door, pausing to turn and look at me again.
“Wait, I’m not going to get my ass kicked by your brothers, am I?”

I shake my head no, taking another long drink of water to keep from
having to answer him. He watches me for another second before nodding his head
and pivoting to head out the door.
 
With
the way my head is spinning I need to give myself another minute before trying
to get out of bed; otherwise I’m risking some serious bodily harm.

I will never, ever, drink that much again. Whatever alcohol induced
reprieve I might have had last night wasn’t worth the pounding headache, and
the utter shame I was currently feeling. I was in his clothes, in his bed.
Worse, I had contemplated sleeping with a complete stranger.

It doesn’t matter how hurt I am by Grant dropping me like a hot
potato, or how low my self-esteem happens to be at the moment, one night stands
aren’t my thing. Not judging those who indulge. I just don’t want to be
numbered among them.

Of course Grant was the only person I’ve ever slept with, and we
had been dating for over six months before I had even let him clear third base,
never mind a home run.

Swallowing the last bit of water I throw the covers off my legs and
force myself to get out of the bed. His room is pretty bare, the furniture I
noted last night and one framed picture of a young Jacob with a woman and a
girl who looks several years younger than him. Family, I muse, noting the
slight resemblance between the three of them.

They share the same color and shape to their eyes.

I slip into the small bathroom, wincing at my reflection in the
mirror. My earlier concerns of how I looked were obviously warranted. Thick
black streaks under both eyes, which are red and swollen, greet me. My hair
isn’t just a tangled mess, it looks like a tornado has ripped through the
strands scattering them every which way.

I look like, as my dad would say, I’d been rode hard and put away
wet. Glaring at my reflection I reach over and turn the water on in the sink. I
make quick work of washing the makeup off my face, feeling somewhat better as
the black streaks disappear. I find toothpaste in a cabinet and use my finger to
do a patch job on brushing my teeth. I finger brush my hair into some semblance
of order.

The only real color on my face is the pink stain of embarrassment
on my cheeks.
 
I can’t believe I’m
standing hung over in Jacob’s bathroom. I wish there was some way to teleport
myself home instead of having to face him again.

I feel nearly human again as I move back into the bedroom. I wiggle
back into my jean skirt and slide my sandals on as I slip Jacob’s shirt over my
head, tugging my tank top back into place from where it had risen.

I’ve just finished making his bed, and am folding his T-shirt when
he comes back into the room. He pauses just inside the door, eyes skimming over
me quickly, and I can literally feel my cheeks redden even more under his gaze.
He doesn’t say anything as he moves over to the dresser to grab his wallet and
a set of keys. This morning he’s in khaki shorts with a gray T-shirt, and a
pair of flip flops. He settles a faded hat with the CMU logo stretched across
it on his head as he turns to face me.

“Ready?”

Nodding, I set the shirt down on the pillow before following him
out of the room. The house is quiet as we make our way down the stairs and
outside.

“What time is it?”

“Around eleven.” His voice is laced with concern as he pushes open
the front door. I wince when I step into the sunshine, and wishing for my
sunglasses I shade my eyes with one hand. He grips my elbow when I stumble, his
fingers warm and firm on my skin as he keeps me from falling flat on my face as
he adds, “You should probably try and put something besides water in your
stomach. Want me to stop and get something for you?”

My stomach revolts at the thought of food. “I’ll take my chances.”

 
Chuckling softly he says,
“Yeah, being hung over isn’t nearly as fun as being drunk, but I promise eating
will help. There’s a 24-hour-diner just a couple miles off campus, if you want
to stop.”

“The Grease Spoon?”

He leads me over to a small black sports car. I don’t know much
about cars, but I know expensive when it’s staring me in the face. He follows
me around to the passenger side of the car, confusing me. Am I supposed to
drive? That makes no sense. I’m just about to ask what in the hell is going on
when he reaches past me to open the car door for me.

For the briefest of moments, I’m stunned into silence. He’s still
standing there, one hand casually holding open the door for me, waiting.
 
“You’ve been there?”

Slowly I run through the last few minutes of conversation in my
head, trying desperately to remember what we’d been talking about. He’s waiting
for some sort of response from me, but I’m still stuck on him opening the car
door for me like this is some sort of date, which is so far from what this is
it’s ridiculous.

“You with me, Grace?” He tilts down, lowering his head so his eyes
are level with mine. “You okay?”

Licking my lips, I nod my head before taking a step away from him before
I do something crazy. Like jump him.

Who knew gallantry was so incredibly sexy? Someone needs to write
his mama a thank you card.

“Been where?” I finally ask breathlessly before sliding into the
car.

“The Grease Spoon.”
 
He
reminds me, shifting so one arm is on the hood of the car, the other on the
open car door, as he leans in while waiting for my response.

“My roommate and I go at least once a week. They make the absolute
best blueberry pancakes ever.”

“The stuffed French toast is my weakness.” Um, I’ve seen his
stomach, if the man has any weakness at all it doesn’t show in the rock hard
abs he was sporting.

“Yum.” He doesn’t have to know I meant his body and not the French
toast.

Straightening up, he shuts my door before moving around the hood of
the car. I watch the fascinating play of muscles in his arm bunch and then
flattened back out as his arm moves. He shaved at some point this morning. Did
he take a shower while I was passed out in his bed? Why does that feel
ridiculously intimate? The smooth line of his jaw is every bit as appealing as
it had been last night with the hint of whiskers whispering across it.

“Sure you don’t want to stop?” He asks as he slides into the car.

“Stop where?”

“The Grease Spoon.”

“Oh, uh, rain check? I should probably check in with my roommate.
She’s a bit of a worrier.”

And I’d purposely left my cell phone at home the night before so I
could be disconnected from everyone.
 
They were smothering me. I felt like everyone
was trying to be so careful around me, to not mention Grant and whatever girl
he happened to be seeing at the moment, so they didn’t hurt my feelings.

I was drowning in the need to try and keep everything as normal as
possible, and balancing that need with the enormous ache I felt in my heart
every time I saw Grant was exhausting.

I’d just wanted one night where I didn’t have to walk the line
between the old relationship we’d all shared, and the new one that we were
still fumbling our way through.

Some stupid part of me doesn’t want to hurt Grant.
 
And that part, pisses other parts of me off,
and it’s this whirlwind of emotions inside of me that I can’t pin down.
 
It makes me feel weak, and stupid, and like
such a wuss.

I give Jacob directions on how to get to the apartment I share with
Delaney, and other than that there is no conversation between us until he pulls
up in front of building. I swallow my groan of frustration when I spot not only
Cole’s truck, but Holden’s SUV as well, in the guest parking area. I stay
seated in the soft leather seat for a few minutes after he’s pulled into a
parking spot.

“You going to be okay?”

Forcing a smile I know looks anything but real, I turn my head to
look at him again. “Of course.”

He doesn’t believe me. That much is evident by the look on his
face. He pulls on the brim of his hat, lifting the hat up off his head and then
settling it back down again seconds later. “You don’t look real sure.”

Of course I don’t, because I’m not real sure. I shrug slightly,
taking a deep breath before I answer. “I don’t know how to convince them that
I’m okay, or that I’m going to be.” Smirking I add, “It probably doesn’t help
that every time I turn around I see my ex with somebody new, and I feel like
some days I’m doing pretty good to get my ass out of bed.” I shake my head.
“Sorry, you’ve been crazy nice to me and I repay you by whining.”

 
“It’s fine.”

“No it isn’t, but thanks for lying. And thanks for saving me from
making a huge mistake last night. And remembering how you were raised,” I add
with a small smile. “I’ll see you in class, Jacob.”

* * * *

“Where the hell have you been?”

Kicking my shoes off, I shuffle through the apartment, heading
toward my room without answering Holden. He’s been the worst one to deal with
since everything went down. Because Grant is his best friend, and I’m his
sister, and he feels like he’s betraying both us whenever he’s with the other
one of us.

“Grace Louise Marsh get your ass back here.”

I lift one hand up, flicking him off right before slamming my
bedroom door shut behind me. “You aren’t my dad!”

“Don’t make me call him!” Holden pounds on the door of my room.
“Your little sorority friend called two hours ago to make sure you made it home
okay.” He hits the door one more time. “We’ve been freaking out.” He pauses
then adds, “Del’s been freaking out.”