Ritual - Palm South University - Page 42

“But I don’t want him,” I yell in return. “I love you, Adam. It’s as simple as that. He is not a threat and you know it.”

Adam’s jaw clenches, and he looks away from me without a response.

My skin prickles with the memory of being in this position before, of having to choose between Adam and Grayson, and my stomach flips violently at the thought of it. I’ve already lost my best friend, and there was still a gaping hole I was convinced would never be filled again.

If I have the chance to fill the hole Grayson left in me, I want to take it — and I don’t understand what I’ve ever done to make Adam second-guess that he can trust me, that I can be friends with another guy without it being a danger to us.

“There was a time he made me choose between you two,” I whisper, crossing my arms over my chest. “Do you remember that?”

I don’t miss the way Adam’s jaw ticks. “How could I forget.”

“Well, then you know why I’m so adamant about this. Making that choice… being in that position…” I swallow, thankful for the sunglasses hiding the tears glossing my eyes. “It killed me. It tore me in half. I swore to myself that I would never do that again. I can’t do that again.”

Adam nods, stepping into my space, and he removes his sunglasses for the first time, showing me the pain in his eyes as he stares down his nose at me. “So, you’ll do it for him, but not for me?”

My next breath is shaky and burns me from the inside, stinging my nose and making my bottom lip quiver. How can he not understand? How can he not see that I can be friends with Grayson and still be in love with him, still be his — completely?

How could he ever ask me to choose, knowing the hell it put me through last time?

I’m not sure how long we stand there, nose to nose, chest to chest, each of us waiting for the other to break. But it doesn’t matter, because neither of us does, and it’s Adam who shakes his head and pulls back.

He slips his sunglasses back on, pausing when he’s a few feet away like he wants to say something, but decides against it. Instead, he takes off toward the DJ booth, speaking into the walkie-talkie that was strapped to his hip, effectively dismissing me and slipping back into president mode.

And I just stand there, watching the muscles of his back as he goes, wondering how we always find ourselves back here, no matter what we do.MY BEST FRIEND AND I are the most annoyed I’ve ever known us to be.

We are also at petty level one thousand.

But I don’t care.

I don’t care that we’re both grumbling and being catty little bitches as we watch our respective targets from across the sandbar, each of us leaning back in our beach chairs and soaking up the sun as if it could do anything to warm our cold, black hearts in this moment. I don’t care that we’re shit talking about someone we don’t know to make ourselves feel better. I don’t care that we’re making up stories in our head to fill in the blank spots for everything we’re dying to know.

Sometimes you know you’re being a little bitch, and you just can’t stop yourself.

And that’s where we’re at today.

Ashlei’s target? The new intern at Okay, Cool, who looks absolutely stunning in a flapper swimsuit costume, complete with pearls draped around her neck and a feather in her headband. She honestly looks so much like Lei that they could be doppelgängers, which is likely why my bestie wants to strangle her with the pearls around her neck. She looks like her, has her old gig at the agency, and seems to be making quite the impression on their boss — AKA, Ashlei’s boyfriend.

And my target?

The too-hot-to-be-in-college Puerto Rican goddess currently hanging on Kade’s arm.

I don’t even know her name, and I don’t need to. All I know is that Kade is making her laugh, and she’s rubbing all over him, and he’s holding her close, and I can hear his words reverberating like bells in an echo chamber in my mind.

“Might have to pull out all the tricks I’ve learned on some unsuspecting hottie at the Halloween party…”

I grind my teeth together, and then continue my petty party.

“I mean, honestly, who has tits that big in college? They’re like a triple D, and she has a waist the size of a coffee cup.”

“Did you know she has already been put on an event account?” Ashlei responds. “I mean, I had to claw my way to my own account.”

“Sure, she’s gorgeous,” I continue. “But I bet she’s vanilla in bed. He could do better.”

Tags: Kandi Steiner Romance
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