“Fuck that,” I mutter. “If that happens much more I’m gonna stand in front of Braden and gladly take his shit for being with you. I can’t f**king deal with seeing that all the time.”
“You have two choices. You can see me with them and know I’m with you, or you can see me with them and wonder which one I want.”
Fuck that for a laugh. I take a deep breath and lean my forehead against hers. “Fine. I’ll deal with it. But I don’t damn well like it, Megs.”
“I know.” She smiles. “I don’t like it much either, but if it makes you feel better, Tom’s a jackass.”
“So am I,” I mumble.
Her hand snakes into my hair and she holds me tightly. “Yep. But you’re a special kind of jackass.”
“Yeah?” I dip my head and brush my lips across her. “What kind is that?”
“My kind of jackass.”
~
“It just occurred to me I don’t know your major,” Ryan throws at me as I walk into the frat house.
I grin, still buzzing from being around Megan, and sit down. “Psychology.”
“Are you for f**king real?” He sits up.
Braden walks in, eating an apple. “Is who for real?”
“This dick is majoring in psych. Did you know that?” Ryan cocks a thumb toward me and looks at Braden.
“He can’t be.” Braden looks at me and I smirk. “Are you really?”
“Pretty damn sure that’s why I do the classes the course requires.”
“Well, f**k me.” He leans against the door frame. “What you studying that for? To understand why you need so much sex?” Him and Ryan chuckle.
So I can understand why my mom was the way she was and stop other people going that route. So I can help stop other kids dealing with the shit I had to.
“I know why I need sex, ass**le,” I retort. “I’m doing it to work out why people like me hang around with f**ktards like you two.”
“Oh, that’s easy,” Ryan shrugs. “We make clever dicks like you look good.”
“True that,” Braden agrees.
Ryan looks at him. “You know something? I don’t even know what your major is.”
Braden shrugs a shoulder carelessly, chewing. “You know something?” He grins. “I don’t f**king know either.”
I laugh at the smile on his face. “Ryan, man, you might just have a point about you two making me look good.”
“I’m majoring in engineering, if either of you dicks care.” He shrugs.
“Hey, that’s supposed to be pretty tough. All that math and stuff,” Braden says vaguely.
“Math was all I could do well in school. It made sense.”
“Yeah, well.” Braden straightens, dropping the apple core in the trashcan. “The only math I know is that me plus Maddie, minus clothes, equals a product not even algebra can create. Shame we can’t major in sex. I’d walk away top of the class.”
I smirk as he leaves with a satisfied smile on his face, and Ryan snorts.
“That’s some pretty sweet math … One I think this whole house can appreciate.” He grins.
I nod in agreement, thinking of Megan.
Fucking right I can appreciate that.
Chapter Thirteen - Megan
I must be the only person in my class that will read a classic novel for anything other than requirement. I can’t think of anyone I know that would pick up Jane Eyre, Little Women, or Tess of the D’Urbervilles for pleasure.
In fact, they’re not even my first choice. Little Women comes in a close second, but Pride and Prejudice will always win out. There’s something beautiful about a couple from two different backgrounds traveling along the bumpy road of love until it’s undeniable, and there’s something even more beautiful about watching that journey happen. Flicking through the pages anxiously waiting for that sweet first kiss, the passion filled argument, the final declaration. There’s something that pulls me in and takes me away from the real world.
There really is no place like the one you find between the pages of a book.
The only place that comes close is in the arms of the person you love.
Perhaps that’s why with Braden in class all day, I’m sitting on the corner of Aston’s bed reading – and swooning over – the beauty that is Mr. Darcy. I’m pages away from one of the best scenes in the book – the rain scene where everything is so passionate and wet and oh my God, get together already! And I’m not ashamed to admit it, but I’ll happily yell at the characters until I get what I want.
That love. That all-consuming, overwhelming, never-ending love is what I want. I want to feel what Darcy and Elizabeth feel. I want to look into someone’s eyes and know I’m looking at my happily ever after.
The door opens, and I keep reading, my eyes skittering across the page and drinking in every word.
The door is open. Okay. So this is gonna be kinda awkward if this isn’t Aston. Damn, why didn’t I think of this before?
I slowly raise my eyes over the top of the book. Aston clicks the door shut behind him, smirking at me with a cocked eyebrow.
“Not that I’m complaining, but is there any reason you’re on my bed?” he asks smoothly.
“I’m reading,” I reply, dropping my gaze to the page again. “And I need to be comfy when I read, which will explain why I’m on your bed opposed to that horrible chair at the desk.”
“I can see you’re reading, Megs, but why are you reading in my room and not yours?”
“I can go if you’d like me to.” I dog-ear the page and tuck the book under my arm.
“Hey, no! No, I didn’t say that.” He drops his bag and walks toward the bed, putting his hands either side of me. “I didn’t even f**king think it.”
“Oh. Well.” I smile sweetly. “I’ll just get back to my book, then.”
“Hell f**king no,” he mutters, grabbing the battered book and dropping it on the floor. My mouth drops open.
“You did not just throw my book on the floor.”
“I dropped it.”
“No. You threw it. I should bitch slap you for hurting Mr. Darcy that way.”
“Right. Because Mr. Darcy and his pompous ass will appreciate it.”
I narrow my eyes a little, half-surprised he even knows who Mr. Darcy is. But then again, I’m quickly finding out that Aston isn’t what he seems, and I like it. There’s a whole other side to him I’m quickly coming to adore.