The Junior (College Years 3)

“He broke up with me right after Valentine’s Day, the prick. He said he wanted to end it then before we left for college, and that he wanted to be free for the rest of senior year,” she says.

“What a dick,” I mutter.

“Right? Especially since he went to prom with Bella Moretti.” She scowls. Clearly, Bella Moretti sucks. I bet she’s a hottie though, with a name like that. “They were basically together the entirety of the summer after we graduated, only for her to dump him when she went to UCLA. His explanation for breaking up with me was clearly an excuse.”

I nod, rubbing my chin, smiling up at the server who drops off a fresh basket of tortilla chips before dashing off. “Was that your only serious relationship? Or have you had more?”

“Only that one,” she admits. “After that, I told myself I didn’t need anything serious. I became a new person in college. Part of that is thanks to Hayden. She really brought me out of my shell.”

“Hayden’s a trip,” I say.

“She’s the best friend I’ve ever had,” Gracie admits with a faint smile.

“You two together are terrifying,” I admit.

Gracie frowns. “What do you mean? Do we scare you?”

“Hell yes,” I say without hesitation. “I wouldn’t mess with the two of you, that’s for sure.”

“Aww, the big bad football player scared of two strong women,” she teases with a glint in her eyes. “We do know how to make your life a living hell, Caleb.”

“I know. That’s why I steer clear of you two,” I say, meaning every word.

“You really don’t though,” she points out. “You bug me constantly. As if you enjoy taunting me on a regular basis.”

Should I admit I enjoy taunting her? “You’re easy to bug, G. You get all riled up.”

“People say we argue all the time because we secretly want each other,” she says, her voice light. Like it’s no big deal what she just said.

But her words render me frozen, my mind going a mile a minute.

Yes, I think she wants me, but she’s never flat-out said something like that before.

Hmm.

The server chooses that moment to return to our table with our food, and Gracie orders another margarita.

“You sure about that?” I ask her.

She sends me a look. “You don’t want to pay for another one?”

“That’s not the point. It’s a big drink, G. You really think you can handle another one?” I ask.

“Hell yes.” She smiles up at the server, who laughs. “Make it a double.”

“Please don’t do that,” I tell the server, who keeps laughing. “Just make her a normal one.”

“Will do,” the server says, her gaze flirtatious when it meets mine. I flash her a quick smile and look away, not interested.

Wait a second. What the fuck? What’s wrong with me?

The moment the server is gone, I’m shoving half my taco into my mouth, mulling over what Gracie said, and how I could bring the subject back up.

Then again, why would I want to do that? Am I ready to talk about this with Gracie? She could shut me down with a few choice words, and I’d have to forget about ever getting a chance with her.

And do I really want a chance with her? Or am I just out to fuck her once and be done?

“You’re looking at me as if you want to eat me like that taco,” Gracie says, leaning over to casually slurp on the straw in her mostly empty drink.