Saying Goodbye, Part One (Passports and Promises Book 1) (4 page)

“You have a temperature.”

I touched my forehead with the back of my hand. “I do?”

He nodded, putting his hands on my cheeks. “And you’re flushed.”

I sneezed. Again. “I think I’m getting sick.”

He gave me a droll look. “I think you’re already sick.”

I shivered so badly my whole body vibrated. Dylan turned up the heat in the car. Even though he was probably sweating, I couldn’t seem to warm up.

“Well, this explains one thing.” I huddled in my cardigan, my teeth chattering. Dylan had tossed his jacket on top of me, too, but it didn’t help. 

“What?”

“Tonight. I’m always a bitch when I’m getting sick.”

He chuckled. “Good to know.”

I snoozed as we drove home. I didn’t wake up until the car had stopped in front of a ritzy-looking apartment building, one I’d never seen before.

“Where are we?”

My voice sounded strange, and I felt awful. Dylan got out and walked around the car to open my door. In two weeks, I’d learned never to open a door myself or face the fury of Dylan Hunter.

“My place. You’re staying here tonight.”

He put an arm around my shoulders and steered me into the foyer. I let him. It was easier than arguing.

“Are you being all controlling again?”

“Sorry.” He came to a sudden stop and looked down at me. “Do you want to stay with me tonight, Sam? Will you let me take care of you? Please?”

I sighed, too tired and too sick to put up much of a fight. “Fine. Only because you said please.”

He opened the door for me with a smile.  “I’ll remember that.”

CHAPTER FOUR

D
ylan’s apartment, tidy and elegant, didn’t look like a college guy’s place. He had a black leather sofa, actual artwork on the walls, and not a beer in sight. What he did have was an assortment of herbal teas and an electric kettle. After giving me a long sleeved Sigma Alpha Alpha t-shirt to put on, and a warm pair of socks, he covered me with a blanket and handed me a hot cup of tea. It felt good to get out of my dress, and finally I started to warm up.

He’d put lemon and honey in my tea, just like my mom used to do, and made me drink every last drop. He also made me take cough medicine and a vitamin. By the time I finished, my head lolled against his shoulder, and he held me close, keeping me warm.

I woke up the next morning, still curled in his arms, the shy September sun peeking through the windows. I snuggled closer to him. We’d slept on his couch, which probably hadn’t been the most comfortable experience for him. I enjoyed waking up next to him, my bare legs twined with his. At some point, he’d taken off his suit and now wore only an undershirt and boxers.

His lips immediately went to my forehead, like my mom used to do to check my temperature. “How do you feel?”

I kissed his neck. “Much better.”

“You were burning up last night, but I think you’re okay now.”

He sat up, reached for a thermometer on the coffee table, and made me take my temp. Satisfied I no longer had a raging fever, he let me get up to use the bathroom and gave me a spare toothbrush he had tucked in a drawer. Other than a small case of the sniffles, I felt fine. I washed my face and joined him back on the couch, pulling my knees up and resting my head on his chest.

“Thanks for taking care of me last night.”

He ran his fingers through my hair. It was a tangled mess at the moment, but it seemed to fascinate him.

“Honey.”

“Yes, dear.”

He laughed, and I heard the rumble against my cheek. “No, I meant the actual thing ‘honey.’ It wasn’t an endearment.”

“Why are you talking about honey?”

He stared at a lock of my hair, studying it. “The highlights in your hair remind me of the color of honey.”

“Those were earned, not bought. I worked as a lifeguard just about every summer of my life.”

He stroked my cheek. “Your skin reminds me of honey, too. The way it looks. The way it tastes.”

He kissed the tip of my nose and then put a finger on my lips. “And your mouth. Dear God, Sam, your mouth. I’ve heard the phrase ‘bee stung lips’ before but never knew what they were talking about.”

“Honey. Bees. I’m beginning to notice a little apiology theme going on here.”

“I love the fact you know the word ‘apiology,’ but I love your lips even more. So plump. So perfect. So sweet.”

He stared at my mouth, completely absorbed, as he traced the outline. I opened my lips just a bit and took his finger in, sucking on it gently. When I touched his finger with my tongue, he groaned. That was all the encouragement I needed. I climbed on top of him, straddling him with my thighs. He didn’t protest when I kissed him. He let me take charge. For once. And when I began rocking against him, he pressed back, giving me what I needed.

His hands slid under my t-shirt, caressing my naked breasts. The only thing separating us was the thin layer of my lace panties and the cotton of his boxers, and I was lost in the sensation. He was so hard, and I was very sexually deprived at the moment. I couldn’t have stopped. Not for anything.

He sat up, kissing my neck and panting, his breath hot on my skin. His hands found my hips and he guided me, our pace growing more and more frantic until we both cried out. Even then I rubbed against him, enjoying the fading pleasure, the way he touched me. It was what I’d wanted all along. I kissed the top of his head and he looked up at me with a sheepish grin.

“I just came in my pants. That hasn’t happened since eighth grade.”

He went to change his clothes, and I sat on the couch, waiting for him. He pulled me into his arms and I sighed contentedly.

“We almost had sex, Mr. Hunter.”

“That we did, Miss Barnes. Did you enjoy it?”

I pretended like I had to think about it. He tackled me, pushing me down on the couch and tickling me until I answered him.

“Yes.” My breath came out in gasps. “Now stop.”

He made me breakfast of tea and toast, still worried I might not be feeling well. I was great. Better than great.

“You’re glowing.” His hand shot to my forehead to check my temp again and I giggled.

“I’m not sick. I’m happy.”

He kissed me, his lips tasting like strawberry jam. “I’m happy, too.”

He took me home close to lunchtime. Students milled about in front of the Theta house, and I felt a little shy. Obviously, we’d had a sleepover. I had on my clothes from the night before and my hair was a wreck. It didn’t bother him. He swept me up into kiss that made my toes curl.

“The Sig party is tomorrow,” he said.

“I can’t come. I have a Theta function.”

“Can I see you tonight?” he asked as he nibbled on my lips.

“Yes,” I said between kisses.

“Dinner? At my place?”

After the discussion we had last night, this should have ticked me off, but I was still riding high on the afterglow of the orgasm I’d had this morning. The much awaited orgasm. The one that had been building for two solid weeks. And now there was the possibility of sex. Tonight.

I grinned at him. “Fine, Mr. Bossy Pants. Can I at least help?”

He was about to answer me when Zach McGaffrey approached, a knowing gleam in his eyes. The last person I wanted to see at the moment.

“Dylan,” he said, reaching out to shake hands with Dylan. He turned to me. “And Samantha. What a surprise.”

I gave him a tight smile. I hadn’t seen Zach since the night the frat got raided, and I was still mad at him for how he’d behaved with Gabriela. I also wasn’t ready for the world to know about my relationship with Dylan. I still hadn’t told Max about it. I knew I should have, but it never seemed like the right time.

“Zach.” Dylan kept one arm around my shoulder and greeted him with genuine pleasure as they did the super-secret Sig handshake. It wasn’t actually such a secret. Max showed it to me ages ago.

“Are you two coming to the party tomorrow?”

“I will,” said Dylan. “Sam has other plans.”

Zach’s lips curled up in a smile. “What a pity. See you later, my brother.”

He gave Dylan a pat on the back and took off. A dark cloud of foreboding filled my heart. I didn’t like this at all.

Dylan brushed a lock of hair behind my ear. “What’s wrong?”

I crossed my arms over my chest. “Nothing. I just don’t like him very much.”

Dylan shrugged. “He’s okay. We pledged together. We’ve been friends a long time. I’ll pick you up at seven, okay?”

I nodded and he gave me a small kiss on the cheek before he got in his car and drove away. I waved to him half-heartedly. Even Max thought Zach was a jerk, and Max was one of the worst judges of character I’d ever met. My shoulders slumped as I thought of him. It would be wrong if he found out about Dylan through someone else. I needed to tell him before Zach did. I decided to call him as soon as I got back to my room.

Max, happy to finally hear from me after a two-week dry spell, agreed to meet me for a coffee after I finished my afternoon classes. We chatted, the same easy, comfortable way we always had. I loved spending time with Max. He made me laugh, and we understood each other. He wasn’t handsome in Dylan’s chiseled, dark, sexy way, but he was cute, with curly brown hair and freckles on his nose. He’d wrestled in high school, and still had the muscles to prove it.

One of the Sig brothers, a tall blond guy named Jason, walked by and gave Max a high five. “Hey, Max. How are things going, Sam?”

I nodded at him and Max grinned. “What about that meeting this morning, Jason? I couldn’t stop laughing.”

“I know, man. Me, too.” Jason started to giggle. “Meep.”

They said goodbye, but Max couldn’t seem to wipe the grin off his face. “What’s so funny?”

He shook his head. “I really shouldn’t tell you.”

“What is it, Max?”

“It’s brother stuff. You’ll get mad.”

I gave him a steady look. “Just tell me. You know you want to.”

“Okay,” he said, leaning conspiratorially across the table. “Do you know Shannon? Big girl, dark hair?”

“I think so. Is she a DZ?”

He nodded, starting to giggle again. “Well, she hooked up with Joe last night at the Sig house. One of the pledges recorded the encounter.”

“What do you mean?”

“He put his phone in Joe’s room and recorded them having sex. It was dark, so you can’t see anything, but the audio…” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “I guess she was on top, and right in the middle of it, she farted. Honest to God. It sounded like what Jason said.
Meep.
Weirdest thing I’ve ever heard. And then she said, ‘Excuse me,’ all lady-like and proper, and can you guess what Joe did?”

“I can’t even imagine.”

“He said, ‘It’s fine. Just ride me, baby.’ And they continued on from there. It was freaking hilarious.” He was about to start laughing again, but froze at the look on my face.

“Not cool, Max.”

“Come on, Sam. It’s no big deal. Joe didn’t care.”

“I’m sure Shannon did. Do you guys do this all the time?”

“No,” he said, shaking his head, but I could tell he was lying. I stared at him until he confessed. “Well, maybe once or twice. It’s just a pledge thing.”

“Did you ever record…us?”

He sat straight up. “No way, Sam. You know I’d never do that.”

“Joe didn’t do it. The pledge did it.”

“Look. You’re not like Shannon. She was just there for a hook-up. You’re special, and the other brothers know it.”

“Special, huh? That’s what all the boys say.” I took a long sip of coffee, staring at him over the rim of my cup. A moment of silence hung in the air as he studied my face.

“So do you have something to tell me, Samantha?” he asked with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

I paused, my coffee clutched in my hand. “You know?”

He leaned back in his chair, a satisfied grin on his face. “Of course, I know. I kind of suspected you were seeing someone, but Zach confirmed it a few minutes before you called. He seemed very eager to share the news.”

“I’m sorry, Max. I should have told you sooner.”

“It’s fine. Honest. Although, I will miss our three a.m. booty calls.” I blushed and he gave me a pointed look. “Not that any of them were ever recorded by anyone.”

I rolled my eyes. “Thank heavens for small miracles, I guess.”

He reached for my hand, being sincere for the first time in a long time. “Are you happy?”

I had to ponder it for a moment before I could really give an answer. “Yes. I think I’m happy. I’m just not sure yet.”

Max stirred his coffee, sneaking a glance up at me from between his lashes. He had the most gorgeous lashes. Charcoal black, long, and thick. I’d told him many times no guy deserved to have lashes like that, and it was the truth. Between the lashes, the freckles, and his sweet, pleasant nature, Max was pretty adorable. I’d just never gotten used to all the pot smoking and drinking, and I never cared for him the way I did for Dylan. Max was a bubbly, fizzy soda. Dylan a long, rich sip of red wine, sophisticated and intoxicating.

“How well do you know him, Sam?”

Max never skirted around issues. He’d always been completely open with me, maybe even too open. Something about his words seemed odd. He was trying to be discreet, a new flavor for Max.

“I met him the night you asked him to walk me home. Why?”

He still wouldn’t meet my eyes, and alarm buzzers when off in my head. “Just be careful. Take it slow.”

“You’re the second person to tell me to be careful.” I decided to brush it off. “I’m leaving in a few months anyway. I’m not looking for something serious.”

“Does Dylan know that?” Max’s eyes searched mine. “If not, you need to tell him, and soon. He’s not…”

“He’s not what?”

Max sighed. “He’s a good guy.”

“Why do I feel like there’s a ‘but’ at the end of that sentence?”

He hesitated. I saw emotions churning on his face before he gave me a lazy smile. The famous Max Miller smile. The one he used to show he didn’t have a care in the world. I knew better. I also knew he had a stubborn streak. I wouldn’t get any answers unless Max wanted to give them.

“Maybe I’m just jealous.”

“You are?”

He laughed. “A
little
. I knew this would happen, eventually. I just didn’t realize it would be Dylan Hunter.”

“I’m stronger now. He’s not going to break my heart. I won’t let it happen.”