Out Of The Ashes (3 page)

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Authors: Diana Gardin

BOOK: Out Of The Ashes
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I shrugged. “If you’ve lived in one southern town, you’ve sort of experienced them all. Not much different than Simpsonville.”

 

I opened the can and sipped the coldish froth, surveying the party as I did so. A song, well known by the room, erupted from the speakers and the partygoers roared in appreciation.

 

“Let’s dance!” Gillian’s friend Maven yelled, and Gillian grabbed my drink-free hand and pulled me out to the crowded living room floor.

 

As we stood in a group and swayed to the music, a tall lanky guy with dark blond hair slicked back with shiny gel walked up behind Gillian and grabbed her around the waist. She screeched and turned. I was ready to throw my drink on him, but then she smiled up at him.

 

“Drew!” she squealed. “Yay! Meet my roommate. This is Paige!”

 

He grinned at me, appraising my short skirt. “Nice to meet you Paige. I figured you’d be a hottie, living with Gill here. Nice to meet you.”

 

I blushed and shook his hand. “Nice to meet you, too.”

 

“How are you liking being a small fish in a small town on a small campus?”

 

“It’s scary,” I admitted.

 

“Don’t worry, Paige. We won’t bite. I’m gonna introduce you to my roommates…” he looked around the room dizzily. “As soon as I can find them.”

 

“Thanks,” I smiled. “I’d love to meet them.”

 

I smoothed my skirt and attempted to pull up my top to a classier level, failed, and sighed. I was ready for this night to be over. I spotted a patio door over in the corner, and I whispered to Tima that I was going to get some air.

 

 

 

 

 

Clay

 

I walked toward Drew, who was talking to a group of hotties. I was doing a better job now of keeping my shit together and losing myself in the party. The beer, the girls, this was my senior year of college. I was going to live it up.

 

Meeting one girl at the bookstore who’d taken up residence in my head wasn’t going to derail my whole year. That’d be crazy.

 

“Bro!” Drew exclaimed, slinging an arm around my shoulders. “You know Kelly, Tima, Gillian, and Maven, right?”

 

Right. I’d met the tall one with light brown hair and the hot blond before. The other blond, the curvier one, was a girlfriend of one of our teammates.

 

“Yeah. How’re you girls doing tonight?”

 

The one named Kelly giggled and smiled. I liked gigglers. They were a little on the wild side when I got their clothes off.

 

I knew Gillian from around school, and I didn’t have a shot. She was more fun than the gigglers, but she was more of the relationship type.

 

“Good,” she answered, looking around the room like she was searching for someone.

 

“Where’d Paige, my roommate, go?” she asked her friends.

 

“Balcony,” the exotic-looking one answered. She nodded and sipped her drink, looking toward the French doors.

 

Hell, I hadn’t known Gillian had a roommate. Maybe I should check her out. I was getting ready to head in the direction of the balcony when Hannah Davis came surging through the front door.

 

Hannah was a regular fling of mine. We’d started out in the same dorm as freshman, and I just couldn’t shake her. A relationship between us would never work though. Hannah was too much of a bitch. But she was an easy roll in my bed, and we kept going back to each other after a long night of partying. Her eyes locked with mine and I paused.

 

The crooked line Hannah drew as she walked across the room said that she had already been partying somewhere else before she’d arrived. I rolled my eyes.

 

Why was all of this feeling so old and tired all of a sudden?

 

“Hey, baby,” Hannah drawled. “Your date’s here. Right on time, huh?”

 

She threaded her fingers through mine, pulling on my arm a little as she sidled up next to me.

 

“I’m not your baby,” I replied. “Not in the mood tonight, Hannah.”

 

She looked up at me in surprise, sticking out her bottom lip in a pout. “That’s a new one. What crawled up your ass?”

 

“I’m just not in the market for sleepovers right now, okay? Nothing personal. Just not into it.”

 

“What the hell?” she snarled. “Has Clay Forbes gone and gotten a new regular treat in his bed at night?”

 

“No,” I snapped. “Hannah Davis has just gone and gotten old. Drinks are at the bar. Have another.”

 

I walked away, shaking my head.

 

What was wrong with me? I turned around, thinking maybe I should take Hannah back to my room and snap out of it.

 

Then the balcony door opened, and my bookstore girl walked into the room, looking like my every fantasy come to life.

 

 

 

 

 

Four

Paige

 

I stood there a moment, my mouth hanging open, before I turned and closed the balcony door behind me. I also took a moment to count backwards from ten before turning back around to face the guy I’d met at the bookstore a few days ago. Clay.

 

I knew he went to school here, but I honestly hadn’t expected to run into him again so soon.

 

And now he was walking toward me.

 

“Hey,” he said.

 

“Hey,” I answered, smoothing my too-short mini self-consciously. Why had I let Gillian talk me into wearing it? My scars were visible everywhere. And I had never wanted to hide them as much as I did right now.

 

He let his eyes run from my face and down my body, traveling slowly to my wedge heels and back up again. When his eyes met mine they were…what? Was that interest? As in…attraction? To me?

 

“So, I didn’t get to introduce myself the other day, did I?” he asked with the ghost of a grin on his face.

 

“No, you did. In between bouts of making fun of me,” I answered. I smiled, against my will.

 

“Oh I wasn’t making fun,” he quipped. “I was teasing. There’s a difference. Don’t you know boys tease girls they like?”

 

My eyes widened. Was he teasing me now? He couldn’t like me. He didn’t even know me.

 

“I think I’ve heard that somewhere,” I said cautiously. “I’m Paige Hill.”

 

I stuck out my hand for him to shake.

 

He took it, holding it in both of his. “Again, I’m Clay Forbes. I live here.”

 

“Oh, you do?” I scanned the room, searching for Gillian. “Then you probably know my roommate, Gillian.”

 

Recognition crossed his face. He did know her.

 

“You’re the roommate?” he asked. “Damn. I knew I should have gone out to that balcony.”

 

Whoa. This guy, Clay, was acting all kinds of flirtatious tonight.

 

“I’m guessing you’re this sweet to all the girls,” I assessed, rolling my eyes.

 

As if on cue, a stumbling redhead boasting a voluptuous body currently poured into a short black dress staggered out of the kitchen, red cup clutched in her hand.

 

Ew. She was drinking the trash can punch.

 

She spied me talking to Clay and looked me up and down with bloodshot eyes. She made a beeline in our direction, and I could smell the drama rolling off of her in waves. Not to mention the liquor.

 

I took a step back. Clay noticed, and took a step closer to me. What was his deal?

 

“Hey babycakes, you come to your senses yet?”

 

She leaned into him, her large breasts squishing against his arm, and bile rose in my throat. She whispered loudly enough for me to hear every word. “Let’s. Go. To. Bed.”

 

Oh. So he was exactly what I though he was. A player. A man-whore, even. I spotted Gillian across the room and veered off in her direction.

 

I made it to the group of girls before Clay caught up. Why did he bother?

 

“Hey,” he said. “Where are you going? I thought we were talking.”

 

“Uh,” I said. “Well, we can be done. You seem…busy? With that girl, maybe?”

 

You know, the one who was my opposite in every way?

 

“It was nice to meet you, Clay. Again.”

 

I turned to Gillian, who was watching us curiously.

 

“Do you know Clay?” she asked.

 

I shook my head. “No. Not really.”

 

“Hey,” he interjected, still standing there. “I’m offended. We officially do know each other now. And I wanted to talk some more. Get to know you a little.”

 

I gazed at Gillian, hoping she could read the panic in my eyes.

 

She could, of course. “Clay, you don’t talk. You do. I’m sure Hannah is waiting for you around here somewhere, right? Or some other stand-in.”

 

He closed his eyes briefly, and then glared at Gillian. “Nice, Gill. I’m not with Hannah, and you know it.”

 

“Exactly,” she answered. “You just sleep with her because she’s available. But,” she placed an arm around my waist and pulled me closer. “Paige here isn’t. Go look for another notch for your bedpost tonight.”

 

His blue eyes flashed angrily, but he stayed silent. Had I noticed how beautifully clear those baby blues were before? He threw one last, pleading glance at me. What did he want me to read in that look? Then he walked away, hands in the pockets of his perfect ass-framing jeans.

 

I escaped after that, closing the bathroom door behind me with a sigh of relief. I wasn’t used to guys--any guy, much less one that looked like Clay--paying any sort of attention to me at all. And the way he’d zeroed in on me since the moment we ran into each other at the bookstore made me think he might be interested in me. And that thought was ridiculous. He was obviously a player. Someone I needed to stay away from because the last thing my broken body needed was a broken heart to go along with it.

 

A knock sounded on the door, a quick tap-tap-tap.

 

“Someone’s in here!” I shouted.

 

The door shoved open. I gasped and opened my mouth to shout when a hand slapped onto my face, effectively shutting me up.

 

My eyes widened when the redhead in the black dress appeared behind me in the mirror. One hand was still covering my mouth and she used the other to tug my short hair, yanking a scream from me when she pulled. Her heavy hand muffled the noise.

 

“Shut up, bitch,” she hissed. “Do you know who I am?”

 

The alcohol floating off her breath as she spoke upset my stomach. The room spun, threatening to pull my legs out from under me.

 

She pulled my hair harder when I didn’t answer. “Do you?”

 

I shook my head quickly, staring at her in the mirror with wide eyes.

 

“I’m Clay Forbes’ fiancée. Got it? You stay away from him. If I catch you sniffing around my man again, I’m going to fuck you up. Nod if you understand.”

 

I nodded, angry tears filling my eyes from the sting in my head.

 

“Good.” She let go and the sudden absence of her overbearing hands and her liquored up scent was overwhelming and I couldn’t breathe properly, much less speak.

 

She opened the bathroom door, throwing one last look at me over her shoulder and closed it behind her.

 

I dropped down to the bathroom floor and sobbed silently into a towel I pulled off of the sink as I sank.

 

 

 

 

 

Five

Paige

 

The first day of school was sunny and perfect. The birds sang in the trees and cars motored happily down the street beyond our apartment complex.

 

The world was turning; everyone was going about their normal business.

 

As if the most monumental day of my life wasn’t upon me.

 

Life is funny that way. Big things can happen to you; tragedies can take your entire family away. But the rest of the world continues on as if nothing has happened.

 

As I walked toward campus with Gillian, she noticed my pensive mood and she grabbed my hand, squeezing it tightly in hers.

 

“You’re amazing, you know,” she said.

 

“Am I? I don’t feel amazing. Most of the time I feel a little lost.”

 

“I know,” she answered. “But you’re finding yourself. Slowly. I can see it happening every day. Little pieces of you come flying back, and my friend is being put back together again. It makes me so happy and hopeful for what comes next in your life.”

 

“I’m never going to be that girl again, Gill. You know that, right? The girl that I was before the fire didn’t realize what an ugly place the world could be.”

 

She nodded thoughtfully. “But this girl knows and is still a shiny bright spot in my world. That counts for something, Paige. You’re going to be okay. Today is the start of something special for you.”

 

I hoped so. More than anything, I wanted her to be right about that. We parted ways outside the Student Center. Gillian hurried off to the Sciences building where she had a chemistry lecture. I headed inside to grab coffee before class.

 

I turned around with my fresh latte in my hand and bumped right into Clay Forbes. Luckily, there was a lid on my cup, or caramel-scented coffee would have splashed all over his baby blue v-neck tee. A blue tee that turned his eyes into liquid topaz. I could see the defined muscles of his chest and his flat stomach through the fitted shirt. Clay wasn’t a big guy, but he was at least six feet tall and his body was lean and fit.

 

“Whoa,” he said, catching me by my forearms before I stumbled over his feet. “Slow down, there’s no fire.”

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