Ritual - Palm South University

I’ll never forget how crushed she was.

“I remember,” I manage on a croak.

“Then you know that this is more than just a simple him or you scenario,” Jeremy says. “This isn’t about her wanting to fuck Grayson or ever be with him again. This is about the fact that she’s lost people in her life and it kills her. I mean, you know better than anyone that Cassie is the sweetest fucking girl on the planet. She hates being hurt. She hates hurting others. So, when this guy she spent so much time with comes back around and apologizes and she has an opportunity to be friends with him? Of course, she wants to. And I hate to say it, brother,” he says, shaking his head. “But it has nothing to do with you.”

My chest tightens. “It does, though. It’s not fair of her to expect me to be okay with that.”

“Really? Just like it’s not fair of you to expect her to be okay with you and Skyler still being friends?”

His words slam into me, hard and fast and unexpected, and I sit up slowly in my bed before leaning my back against my headboard. “Fuck.”

“Yeah,” Jeremy says. “Look, man. I know it’s hard. You two have been through some shit, and you don’t want to lose her. She doesn’t want to lose you, either. And I know this is a big thing she’s asking of you, to put aside your pride and your jealousy and trust her.”

I bite my tongue against the urge to argue that I’m not jealous of that fucking prick, and Jeremy must notice, because he leans down until I look at him again.

“But whether you see it or not, she already chose you.” He smiles, shaking his head. “Bro, you got her. You got the girl. She’s all yours and has been since she came to this campus — regardless of the past.”

A deflated breath leaves my chest.

“Do you trust her?” he asks.

“More than anyone.”

“Then, what’s the problem?”

I swallow, because as much as I want to argue that it’s that fucking douchebag musician I don’t trust, I know that negates what I just said. Because no matter what he tries, Cassie would never lean into it — into him — ever again.

Jeremy’s right — that girl is mine.

And I can’t fucking lose her again.

I scrub my hands over my face. “Goddamnit. How the fuck do I make this right?”

Jeremy claps his hand on my shoulder. “Step one, take a shower. You smell like shit, bro. And then, go talk to her. And listen this time, too.”

I nod, looking at my best friend who should be so tired of my shit, he never speaks to me again, but instead, is always there for me. “I owe you a beer.”

Jeremy scoffs, standing. “More like a keg.”

“Thank you, bro. Seriously.”

“I got you. Now, get your shit together and then come outside and hang with your brothers.”

I nod, and when he’s gone, I pull out my phone and immediately dial Cassie’s number. My heart races in my chest as it rings, and after the seventh one, I’m sent to her voicemail.

“Cassie…” I say after the beep, but then I freeze.

I’m sorry?

I love you?

I take it all back?

Nothing seems right, and I sigh, leaning my forehead against the cool wall. After a few calming breaths, I decide if there’s any way to make this right, it’s not going to be with a simple phone call or text or trip down Greek Row.

I need to show her that I’m serious, that I’m sorry, and that I trust her.

“If you still love me,” I say, my voice low and hoarse. “Then meet me at the marina this Saturday. One hour before sunset.”

I stay on the line for a moment longer, as if somehow she’ll feel me through the phone. When I finally hang up, I take a deep breath and drag myself into the shower.

And while I put together my plan, I pray that Cassie will give me the chance to make things right.THE INSIDE OF MY thighs are tender and slightly bruised by the time I finish my pole session on Friday.

Getting back into dancing? Easy enough, just a little cardio training and getting my body to remember how it feels to move that way. Revisiting climbing the pole and head up tricks? Not too shabby, a little painful, but for the most part, I got this.

But once I got into training my leg hangs and thigh grips again, my body wanted to divorce me.

I’ve spent all afternoon upside down, working on my Extended Butterfly, my Scorpio, my leg switches and hip holds, and God help me, even my Superman. As much as it hurts to train like this, it also feels good, like I’m making progress and finding my passion again.