Ritual - Palm South University

What if I’m a burden, if he doesn’t want me here, if he wishes I would have just stayed in Florida?

What if it’s weird between us?

What if we’re not meant to be?

I don’t know when I became this person, the kind who cares and loves someone so much that these are the kind of thoughts that plague me. Gone is the girl I used to be who could bang a stranger on Spring Break and not think twice about them. Gone is the Skyler Thorne who couldn’t be tied down, no matter who tried. And absolutely gone is the version of me who couldn’t be hurt by a breakup.

If I lost Kip, I’d lose my mind.

And my heart.

And my soul.

And my grip on life.

That much I know for sure.

I try to school my breathing as I roll through the airport, following the signs for passenger pickup. My stomach is still in a fierce tangle of knots, though.

Until the very moment I see him.

My blond hair, blue-eyed boy is leaning up against his shiny new BMW Z4 — the one he’d bought for himself after winning it all in Vegas — with his hands in his pockets and a sexy smirk on his face. Dark Ray-Bans cover his eyes, and when he sees me, he kicks off from where he’s been leaning against the car, strutting toward me confidently in his dark blue jeans and casual, pistachio green long-sleeve, relaxed fit tee.

To anyone else in this airport, he’s just another guy. He’s just muscles and tan skin and a smile that might make them look twice.

But to me?

He’s everything.

I walk slowly at first, returning his smile until the butterflies in my stomach are too loud to ignore any longer. With a laugh, I take off in a jog, abandoning my bag behind me when I’m just a few feet away from him and launching myself into his arms.

He catches me with an easy spin and an easy smile, our lips connecting like magnets, my arms threading around his neck while his hold fast to my waist.

And the moment we touch, the moment I’m in his arms, every nerve and anxiety settles into absolute peace.

In his arms, I’m home.

“Hey there, Ella Mae,” he whispers against my lips before capturing them again. A deep and longing sigh leaves his chest when he finally puts me back on the ground, but he doesn’t let me go. “Was it just me, or did that flight seem to last years?”

I scoff. “You weren’t the one who had to sit through the torture of being on it.”

“Trust me, it was just as sucky here on the ground waiting for you to land.” He kisses my lips too briefly for my taste, squeezing my hand before grabbing the handle of my suitcase and wheeling it to his car. “You ready to see California?”

“I’m ready to see your bedroom,” I murmur.

Kip chuckles, opening the passenger side door for me and stealing one last kiss from me as I slide inside. Then, he joins me in the driver seat, laying one hand on the inside of my thigh and the other on the steering wheel and driving us across town to UCLA.Kip’s room in the small house he shares with nine of his brothers is almost exactly like his apartment he had when he was at PSU, except it’s much smaller, much darker, and has the faint scent of an old library.

The area they refer to as A Sig Quad is a little collection of five houses and a cottage on the same block, each one housing Alpha Sigma brothers close enough to campus to be convenient and yet far enough away to host parties that don’t have to follow campus rules. Kip gave me a little tour of the courtyard and common living areas on our way upstairs, and now it’s just me and him in the room he shares with Rick.

I smile, fingers gliding over the old wood paneling of the built-in shelves as I look around. “You know, as a millionaire, I’m a little surprised you didn’t want to live in some fancy condo on the bay.”

“And miss out on this glory?” he asks, propping my suitcase in the corner before waving his hands over the room. “It wouldn’t be the same experience to live that far from campus. I mean, look at you. You could easily get your own place on the beach, but you stay at the sorority house.”

“Fair. I guess we’re both weirdos.”

“At least we can be weird together.” Kip points a thumb over his shoulder at the door. “You hungry? Want me to make us a couple sandwiches?”

“Oh, I’m hungry, alright,” I say with a devious grin, stepping into him and winding my fingers into his hair. I kiss him deeply, inhaling his scent and reveling in the familiar feel of his lips against mine.