Hazed (Palm South University)

I think there are a million things I want to say, too.

“Look,” he says after a moment. “All the bullshit aside, I know it’s too late to apologize for the past. I know it’s too late to go back to what we had. And I really don’t want anything more than for you to be okay, to be happy, and it’s clear that you are.” He shrugs. “But if you’re okay with it, I’d like to be friends.”

“Friends,” I repeat with an arched brow. “I think we tried that once before.”

He laughs. “Well, things are a bit different now, wouldn’t you say?”

I smile and nod, considering his offer. To say that him being back in town knocked the breath out of me would be an understatement. To say that discovering he was Kade’s brother fucked me up would be the understatement of the century.

But to say that I don’t want him in my life would be a big, fat lie.

“Do you remember the first time we met here,” I ask, looking around with a grin. “And you called me princess?”

He wrinkles his nose. “God, I did, didn’t I?” A shake of his head. “What weak game.”

“Hey, it worked.”

He smiles at me, that smile that melted my heart and my panties the first time he flashed it at me. “It did, didn’t it?”

“I mean, I called you out for it and did my best to emasculate you but, yes, it did.”

“You were such a spitfire,” Jarrett says with a remembering smile. “I’d never met anyone like you.”

“And have you since?”

“I think you know the answer to that,” he says with a laugh.

We just watch each other for a moment after that, and I feel it — the buzzing energy crackling like electricity underneath all the things we don’t say.

“I like the idea of being friends,” I whisper.

“Yeah?”

I nod. “I’ve missed you, Jarrett. If I have the chance to have you in my life again, I want to take it.”

Another flash of something in his eyes, but it’s gone quickly, and then his hand extends for mine. “Friends, then.”

I eye his hand. “I thought Kade said he’d castrate you if you touched me.”

“True,” he says, but leaves his hand extended. “I won’t tell if you don’t.”

It’s just a handshake, a simple pump of my hand in his to solidify our agreement, but the moment our skin touches, I hear the distant hum of a thousand warning bells alarming in sync.

As if he hears them, too, Jarrett swallows and pulls his hand from mine, reaching for his beer, instead. “Now,” he says, taking a sip. “Tell me what the hell you’ve been up to this past year.”

The conversation is easy from there, and I find that it feels natural, sitting there with Jarrett, him telling me about his life in New York while I fill him in on my last year as a college student. By the end of the night, he’s helping me look for jobs and telling me I’m always welcome at the agency if I need somewhere to get started. We’re swapping stories and laughing and drinking and everything feels okay.

Maybe Jarrett being back won’t be so bad, after all.

Maybe being friends will be easy, now that we’ve had so much time apart.

Maybe we can all three hang out — me, him, and Kade — one big happy family.

Or maybe I’m still the same walking train wreck I was the night I first walked into this bar, and this whole thing will blow up in my face.

I guess only time will tell.

RALPH’S IS ON SPRING Break level.

Fraternity rush is officially over, which means new brothers and old ones alike flock to the university bars to celebrate their letters. Music blasts from the speakers, the DJ yelling into the mic about the happy hour pricing, and every inch of the dance floor is packed.

Skyler, Kip, Adam, and I managed to snag a high-top table tucked back in the corner near the billiards tables, and though we still have to scream over the music, it’s like we’ve carved out our own little slice of the bar.

“So, what comes next?” Adam asks Kip after he gives us the rundown of his television series idea. He wants to capture the story of how he and Skyler met and fell in love — including all the lies, games, and poker drama. It’s the whole reason he’s here and not in California at UCLA, and by the way Skyler is leaning into him all doe-eyed listening to him talk about the project, I know she couldn’t care less what he’s filming — so long as he’s here.

“Casting,” he says, nudging Skyler. “And this gal made sure I knew that she’d be Head Bitch in Charge when it came down to this part.”

“Damn straight,” she says, lifting her beer toward us before she takes a sip. “I’ve got to make sure the girl who plays me is bad ass enough to fill the role.”