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“I missed you.” He tries to reach for me, but I jump backward narrowly missing crashing into another student passing us.
“Bullshit. Why the hell are you here? Don’t fucking lie to me, Jason, because I know you and you didn’t come all the way out here for me.”
“Sweet juice.” I cringe at his stupid pet name for me, I’ll take being called jail bait any day.
“Stop calling me that!” I hiss loud enough to gather the attention of other students milling about.
“I came here for you, baby. No one else, just you. I love you.” I stare at him like he is out of his fucking mind.
I snort. “Your love got me black eyes, fractured bones, and bruises every other week. I’d rather finger fuck myself for the rest of my life than ever consider going back to a piece of shit like you,” I seethe before I leave him standing there with a stunned look on his face. I’m glad I took Corvin’s advice all those weeks ago. I refuse to allow Jason any power over me.
* * *
After my altercation with Jason this morning, I thought the day would drag on but it didn’t. I was barely able to focus in my classes today. I couldn’t find any excitement in rebuilding the project car in class today, nothing seems to make me happy these days. I stalk his profile on social media I hate that he’s so popular that his account is even fucking verified with that stupid blue tick. I bring up the recent photo he posted of him working out without a shirt on. Over ten thousand likes and four thousand comments. Groaning, I shove my phone back into my pocket and round the corner to my dorm building, only to come to a halt at the sight of Jason sitting there on the steps.
He snaps his head up and locks eyes with me, climbs to his feet and makes his way over. This time when I look into his eyes I see desperation. I shake my head as everything finally falls into place.
“Your parents cut you off because you wouldn’t go to rehab?” It’s posed a question but I honestly don’t need him to answer because I know I’m right.
“I just need some help to get back on my feet—” I stumble back a couple steps, staring at him in utter disbelief.
“Are you seriously asking me for money to feed your fucking habit?” I growl.
His features harden. “I saw the crowd you hang out with.”
“What fucking crowd, Jason? Look around you, I’m on my fucking own here!”
“Bullshit,” he sneers as he pulls out his phone and taps on the screen then turns it to face me. My breath hitches. It’s a photo of me and Corvin from weeks ago, the day he chased me down after coming out of practice. I’m plastered against his front with one of his arms around my waist and the other tangled in my hair, our faces are mere inches apart. “I know he’s loaded, I looked him up.”
It takes me a few minutes to gather myself and snap out of my stupor, seeing that photo of us has feelings I’ve been fighting to keep buried begin to resurface. “What?”
He steps into me, forcing me to crane my head back in order to maintain eye contact with him. “My parents cut me off, they froze my trust account. Either you help me or—”
“Or fucking what, Jason? You gonna leak those nude pics of me you took when I was in the shower? You gonna beat me up and force me to give you money?” I’m screaming hysterically now. “Newsflash, asshole, I don’t have money and Corvin isn’t fucking here. Even if he was, he wouldn’t give me shit.”
I clamp my mouth closed when his sparks with life. “You been fucking the future quarterback of the Patriots, sweet juice?” I cringe and shake my head rapidly, denying his claim. “Invite me up to your dorm and I promise I won’t leak time-stamped pictures of you from when you were sixteen.”
“Leak the fucking photos because I’ll never invite you up,” I spit.
“Invite me up, or I leak them and make it look like he took the photos of you underage.” Before I can overthink it and talk myself out of doing it, I knee him right in the balls. “Fuck!” he screams out as he falls to the ground like a sack of shit. I don’t waste time as dash across the parking lot and keep running without a destination in sight. All I know is that if I stop running and Jason catches me, I’m as good as dead.
* * *
I’ve been hiding out near Corvin’s penthouse, it started raining about an hour ago and I’m drenched. I know if I don’t get out of these clothes soon, I’m going to wind up catching a cold. I have two choices, chance going back to my dorm and running into Jason or going to Corvin’s penthouse. The thought of Jason getting his hands on me makes the decision easy, Corvin’s penthouse it is.
It feels weird being back in this elevator, I have no idea if he even knows that I went to the cabin or that I stayed here when I first got back, and honestly, I hate that he kept his word. He hasn’t made contact with me since the day of his first and last game with WFU. Ash was pissed that he bailed on the team, but even he admitted that he would have done exactly what Corvin did if he was given the chance. The doors open and I’m immediately hit with a sense of Deja Vu. I step into the dark, empty place and feel for the light switches on the left hand side of the wall. I turn the lights on and make my way further inside, a part of me wishes he would round the corner but I know that isn’t going to happen.
I turn the lights on in the kitchen and place my backpack on the counter. I open it and grab out the playing jersey he left me the last day we were together. I carry this fucking thing everywhere with me and sleep in it. I leave my bag and phone on the counter, then make my way up to his room so I can have a hot shower. I’m chilled to the bone. Stepping into the bathroom, I flick the light on, then reach into the shower and turn it to hot. I walk back into the room and lay the jersey out on the bed before stripping and leaving my wet clothes at the foot of the bed.
I take my time in the shower, washing my hair and using his body lotion. I’ll admit I now buy the same body lotion and use it daily. It makes me feel like he’s with me and I love how the smell of it reminds me of him.
Fuck, I miss him.
Pain radiates inside my chest, I was a stupid fool. I had him within my grasp. The past six weeks have been torture not being able to see him or speak to him. The only way I know he is alive is because I stalk him on social media. I turn the shower off and step out, grab one of the towels off the rack and wrap it around my body. I grab another towel and use that one to dry my hair. I drop it in the hamper before I step into the room and freeze. A gasp leaves me, my whole body turns to stone at the sight in front of me. Corvin sits on the end of the bed with his head bowed staring down at the playing jersey that I’ve claimed as my own in his hands. He slowly lifts his head. The moment our gazes collide, I feel something inside me cave and rob me of air. His hair is a tousled mess, a five o’clock shadow now dusts his jawline but it’s his eyes, they look hollow and lifeless.
My body begins to heat as his eyes travel over me, his eyes drinking in every exposed inch of my skin. My breathing picks up when I see him clench the jersey in his hold, almost like he needs something to hold onto or risk reaching out for me. The tension between us is so thick that you could cut through it with a knife. I know I need to say something and explain why I’m in his house, but no words will come out of my mouth.
“What are you doing here, Alexa?”Alexa, not jail bait. I don’t know why the use of my real name from him stings.
