Stay With Me (5 page)

“You know him?” I ask weakly.

Daphne shoots me a glance over her shoulder. “You know him, too?”

“Sort of.”

Daphne doesn’t say anything more but waits with a sort of resigned patience as Caleb and his group head toward our table. Her hands clench tight on the tray, and her whole body thrums with tension.

“Are you okay?” A totally stupid question for me to ask. It’s obvious she’s not okay, and she doesn’t respond anyway.

Soon, Caleb is at the table and his attention is on the girl.

And then I get it as I see them closer together.

“He’s your brother.”

“Unfortunately,” Daphne says.

They have similar profiles to a point—where Caleb is all sharp angles, Daphne is softer and a lot smaller. She’s petite, with a very curvy, lush body.

Caleb’s gaze shoots to mine, and by how he looks at me, I know he’s thinking about that kiss—or those kisses. “Hey, Hailey.”

Before I can say anything, Daphne taps her tray against the one Caleb’s holding. “You said you wouldn’t bother me.”

“Am I bothering you?” he asks a shade too innocently.

“Oh, please.” Daphne glares at him. “You know exactly what you’re doing. You’re checking up on me, and you said you would stop doing that. Remember? You
promised.
”

“Daphne.” Caleb draws out her name. “I’m only looking for a place to eat.”

She doesn’t give an inch. “Eat somewhere else.”

“But there really is nowhere else to eat, Daph.”

Daphne whirls around and searches the cafeteria for a long moment. Her shoulders slump, then she lets out a muttered curse. “Fine. Sit with us, if you have to. But if you say anything—”

“He won’t,” a deep voice says. It’s Nick.

“Of course you’d say that. You two are thick as thieves. You’d never say anything against my brother.” She slams her tray on the table and sits in the chair opposite me. “And I really don’t want to hear anything more from you, Nick.”

“I don’t make promises I can’t keep,” Nick says, sitting right next to Daphne. A really cute blond guy sits on her other side.

Caleb takes the seat next to me, and the other guys take the remaining spots. I notice that two of them were the ones in the photos on Caleb’s fridge.

“Hailey,” Caleb says, “let me introduce you to the guys. That’s Nick Brady.”

Nick glances over at me, his dark brown hair falling over his forehead, his eyes a bright blue. “Hey.”

“This is Jamie McAlister.” Caleb points to the blond with an easygoing smile and cornflower-blue eyes.

“My sister loves your music,” Jamie says.

“Thanks.”

“Bullshit,” a buff guy says, elbowing Jamie in the ribs. He’s Asian, with raven-black silky hair, his skin a dark gold, his eyes a warm brown. “
You’re
the one who loves her music.”

“Whatever, Kai. At least I don’t have Miley Cyrus on my playlist,” Jamie says, then shoots me a quick look. “Ummm, you’re not friends with her, are you? I mean, I’m not insulting her or anything. I get the appeal and—”

I pull out my cell and play with the buttons. “Oh. I just texted her. She’s
devastated
. She’s not sure how she’ll go on, knowing you don’t like her songs.”

“Good one.” Jamie laughs. “Why didn’t you tell me she was funny, Fox?”

I turn to Caleb. “You talked about me?”

“Not really.”

“Pleaaaase.” Jamie takes a few fries from his plate and jabs them in the air. “It was nonstop talking.”

Caleb glowers at his friend and then points to another buff guy with shorn brown hair, dark eyes, and perpetual scowl. “And that’s Griff Sinclair.”

Griff nods in my direction.

“And the other two guys are Kai Lowell and Dylan Winters.” Caleb nods in their direction. “Guys, this is Hailey.”

“So, you’re a . . . senior?” I ask.

“Junior. We all are. Except for Daph.”

“Oh.” I eat some of my food and look at Daphne. “What about you?”

“Freshman. I live in Millay.”

“Oh, the ivy-covered building,” I say.

Daphne makes a face. “Yeah. That’s Green College’s way to try for the Ivy League look.”

Millay is one of the three freshman quads on campus in the main area, and it’s the all girl dorm. The other dorm, Wolf Hall, is co-ed and has freshman and sophomores. If I had decided to live on campus, I would have liked to live in Millay. But I’d opted for the off-campus apartment building instead, as the dean and others thought that would be a better fit. And, well, the money I’ve made has afforded me a very comfortable lifestyle, so I was able to secure the apartment I wanted and not have to deal with sharing a bathroom/shower area with other girls.

I’m definitely here to get the “college experience,” but I draw the line at hair in the shower drain.

“Is it nice?” I ask.

“Sure. If you like small, cramped rooms and girls fighting over shower stalls.”

Jamie perks up and angles his chair toward Daphne. A lock of his blond hair falls over his forehead and he pushes it back. His cornflower blue eyes light up with mischief and anticipation. “What are all of you wearing during this fighting?”

“Hey, that’s my sister, man.” Caleb makes a face, then looks at Daphne. “Why did you kick me?”

“Because you’re a frigging idiot.”

“Aw, I love you too.”

“I said
all
of them, Cal. I didn’t mean Daph. Daph’s one of us—except she swears more.” Jamie quickly scoots his chair away—and out of Daphne’s reach.

Instead, Daphne gives Jamie the finger.

“See what I mean?” Jamie glances around the table for solidarity with the other guys. “Go back to what happens when the girls fight over shower stalls, Daph. And please say that pillow fighting is involved.”

“Why would there be pillow fights when we squirt each other with shower gel? Of course, we have to rub it all off and get each other . . .” Daphne pauses as she stabs a fry into ketchup. “Wet. Very wet.”

Jamie groans. “You’re killing me.”

“I’m going to kill you if you don’t shut up,” Caleb says.

“Hey, I’m not the one who kissed Julie in Cancun last year.” Jamie glances over at me. “Julie’s my twin sister, but she goes to UCLA.”

“I was drunk. It happened once. And it wasn’t even a real kiss.”

“Not a real kiss?” Jamie raises his eyebrows. “Your lips were on hers. That’s definitely a real kiss to me.”

Daphne grabs Jamie’s face and kisses him on the lips, brief and quick. “There. You’re even now with Caleb.”

I notice Nick tightening his grip on his drink. Nick doesn’t say anything but continues to glower.

Jamie draws back from Daphne, his eyes quickly going over to Nick. He scoots his chair back further. “Okay, I see what you mean now about it not being a real kiss.”

“Gee, thanks, Jamie. Way to make a girl feel good about herself.” Daphne rolls her eyes, then looks at me and shrugs. “Boys.”

“Let’s stop this,” Nick says darkly, his blue eyes shifting to a deeper, more vivid blue as he takes in Daphne’s just-kissed mouth. “No more kissing. No more talk about kissing. Let’s talk about manly stuff, like the Yankees game or something.”

The guys fall into an easy conversation about the ballgame tonight, and Daphne and I talk about nothing important as we eat our food.

Suddenly, Caleb nudges my shoulder with his. “So, are you game?”

“For . . .?”

“We’re going to have a party at the house on Saturday night. Jamie’s turning twenty-one. Do you want to come?”

“Thanks for the invite, Caleb,” Daphne says.

“You know you’re invited.”

“And you better be coming.” Jamie points a finger at her. “Especially after that non-kiss.”

Nick leans back in his chair and extends his arm to slap Jamie upside his head.

Jamie laughs it off, his grin widening. “Sorry, Nick. Last time I’ll mention it.”

“I’m surrounded by complete idiots,” Daphne says. “You have to come, Hailey. Just so that there’ll be one person I can actually talk to—and to keep my brother off my back so I can actually enjoy myself.”

I smile at her. “Sure, I’ll come.”

“Good, that’s settled,” Caleb says. “I’ll pick you up, Hailey.”

Being alone in a car with Caleb? That could bring about what happened at his place—and that was definitely a
real
kiss. But I don’t need to repeat the experience, and being surrounded by others will help keep that distance between us.

“That’s okay. I can take a taxi. Maybe Daphne can come over beforehand, and we’ll head over together.”

“I’d like that,” Daphne says.

“Okay, that sounds fine to me.” Caleb then smiles at me, and my heart performs flips in my chest.

I’m in so much trouble when it comes to him.

“Well, I have to get going.” I pick up my almost empty tray and stand. “I’ve got class in fifteen.”

Caleb stands, too. “Hold on. I’ll walk you there.”

“Um, you don’t have to.”

“It’s not a problem. I’ve got a class in fifteen as well.”

“Okay.” I nod my head at him, and after saying our byes and getting rid of our trays, we leave.

“So, about that Saturday . . .” Caleb begins as he holds the door open for me and we exit the cafeteria building and head down the few stairs.

I stop on the top step, and Caleb turns on the bottom. It puts us exactly at the same height, and for a moment, I get lost in his dark green eyes.

I shake myself out of it to focus on the matter at hand and walk down the remaining steps. We walk up one of the pathways to the buildings where classes are held. Trees line this particular pathway, and the branches reach out overhead to the other, creating a blanket of leaves over our heads. The leaves are just starting to turn colors and haven’t yet fallen to the ground. With the sunlight speckling through, we’re awash in colors of amber, muted red, a pumpkin orange, and golden yellow.

“It’s nothing,” I say after a long moment of silence.

“It wasn’t
nothing
. We kissed, and then I said something stupid to make you leave. I’m sorry about that, and . . . Well, it’s just that I don’t want you to think badly of me.” He looks away embarrassed as heat crawls up his neck. I’m so charmed and taken aback by that sudden flash of vulnerability that I take a few steps toward him. “Especially about what Jamie said back there.”

It takes me a minute. “Are you talking about when Jamie said you kissed his twin sister in Cancun last year?”

His flush deepens as he gives a quick nod. “It’s just . . . I said it was nothing. I don’t want you to think I do that.”

“Do what, exactly?”

“That I go around kissing girls and then acting like it doesn’t matter. That I’m some big player when I’m not.”

I tilt my head, studying him. “Usually guys who say that are, in fact, really big players.”

“Not me.” His gaze remains steady on mine. “I’ve dated, and I’m far from innocent.”

“And you think
I’m
the one innocent?” I laugh at the thought. “I’m probably
way
more experienced than you. It doesn’t bother me that you kissed another girl, Caleb. That happened a year ago. We didn’t know each other then. I’ve kissed other guys and have had sex—I certainly don’t feel guilty about any of that.”

No, my guilt stems from the fact that I couldn’t trust any of them after I would see stories and gossip sites. That I let myself fall for guys who only saw me as something to bolster their own careers.
Never again.

“I didn’t mean it like that.” Caleb looks off to the side as we continue walking down the path to the buildings ahead. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

“You can’t promise that,” I say. “It’s nearly impossible to not hurt someone. I’m not expecting perfect. I just . . .”

“You just, what?”

I try to find a way to explain it. “I’m eighteen years old. I’ve been in the business since I was a baby. And it makes you grow up—fast. When I was younger, I loved it. I absolutely loved acting, singing, and dancing. I loved being in front of the cameras. I loved seeing my pictures in magazines. I loved every single part of being famous. I thought that was what I wanted to do for the rest of my life.”

“So, what changed?”

I shrug. “Things.”

“C’mon, don’t give me that.”

“My mother always pushed me. She wanted me to be ‘America’s Sweetheart.’” We reach the set of buildings where my classes are and step in an alcove, hidden from view, allowing our conversation continue in private. I turn toward him. “And one day I woke up and wondered how much of what I thought I wanted had come from what my mother had pushed me to do since before I could walk.

“This”—I gesture to the campus—“is one of the first things I’ve done that I can say I truly wanted. I don’t know who I am outside of Hollywood. Or my music. I really don’t know what I want to do with my life. But I’m going to figure it out, and I don’t need any distractions.”

He steps closer to me, a glint in his eyes. “I’m a distraction?”

“A huge one.”

“Good.” He’s so close to me that his breath whispers over my hair. His lips are
almost
touching my ear. “Because you’re definitely distracting me, too.”

I put my hand against his chest and feel his muscles tighten in response. “Well, then we’re in perfect agreement.”

“And what’s that?”

“Distractions”—I jump when I feel his mouth skate over my earlobe—“are not needed, and that w-we sh-should . . .”

His lips enclose on my lobe, tugging it gently. “You were saying?”

I push against his chest until he lets go. He doesn’t back away though, but presses his forehead against mine. His dark green gaze captures mine, and I swallow heavily.

“I’m here to find out who I am. What I want. And who I want to be.”

“So am I.”

“But you have a major, right?”

Caleb nods.

“So you know what you want to do with your life.”

“I do.” He doesn’t tell me what that is, and I don’t like that. “But I also know that life can throw you curveballs.”

“And I’m your curveball?”

“Hailey.” His lips touch mine, a brief press that still manages to heat my system. “You’re so much more than that.”

“You’re missing my point.”

“I got your point. You don’t want to pursue this thing between us because you think it’ll stop you from whatever life plan you’re trying to figure out.”