Page 15 of Cruel Promise
“Are you drunk?” I ask.
We blew through the six-pack before grabbing a bottle of Malibu Rum from the Kappa Mu kitchen—a much better choice if you ask me—and while I have a pleasant buzz, I figured it’d take more before Deacon lost his head.
“Nope,” he tells me.
“Riiiight.” I take a step back. But just the one. “Then what are you doing?”
His expression shifts and he turns back to the game, sliding his hand back across the ball on the console before slamming it forward in a hard swipe that sends his virtual golf ball sailing through the air. “Winning,” he says with a grin, the heated look on his face disappearing to be replaced with a carefree smile.
I open my mouth to call bullshit when the back door leading inside pops open and Quinn pokes her head outside.
“Hey, you!” she calls and I turn, giving her my attention. “Some of the girls and I are going to go dress shopping for the McIntire dinner. Wanna come?”
I have no clue what that even is.
“I’m good,” I say before adding a “Thanks, though,” to soften the rejection, because even though I doubt she really wants me there, Quinn is a softy, and I’d hate to inadvertently hurt her feelings.
She’s myBighere at Kappa Mu—the sorority sister and upperclassman tasked with helping me to fit in—so while I appreciate the invite, she’s only asking out of obligation. Not because she and I are close or anything. We could be, I think. We get along well, and I’ve spent enough time with her to know the foundation for friendship is there. But with everything going on in my life, I don’t have it in me to invest that kind of time or mental energy into a new friendship. I barely have it in me to drag myself out of bed. Something she and my other housemates have obviously noticed, but have gratefully not bothered to ask me about.
Besides, I’m not the kind of girl who enjoys shopping for the hell of it. I’d only bring the group vibe down.
“Okay. If you change your mind, give me a call and I’ll let you know where we’re at.”
I nod, promising I will, even though I know I won’t.
Her attention shifts to Deacon.
“Are you taking—“ she begins, but Deacon surprises me by cutting her off.
“Nah. She’s spoken for.” He lifts one shoulder in a shrug.
Quinn’s brows pull together into a frown.
Who are they talking about?
“So who are you taking, then?” To what? Is this some weird fraternity slash sorority thing I’m not privy to as a freshman or something?
“No worries. I’m covered,” he tells her.
My eyes ping-pong back and forth between them. I feel like I’m missing something. I didn’t even realize they knew each other. Though I guess it shouldn’t surprise me. At the last pool party our house threw, I all but shoved her in his direction after she made her interest clear, suggesting she shoot her shot. I never really saw what came of that, since shortly after Dominique and my brother—Aaron—showed up. But I mean, there could be something going on there, though I’m not gettingrelationshipor evenwe slept togethervibes from these two. More like… friendly acquaintances, maybe?
Quinn’s shoulders drop, her expression now one of disappointment. “Oh. Okay. Well, if things fall through, let me know. I have a friend—“
“I will,” he assures her.
She tells me goodbye and closes the door, presumably to head out and go shopping. That was… weird. I consider asking Deacon what all that was about, but as I think about it, I realize I don’t care.
I’d rather just get back to the game, so that’s what we do, previous conversation and awkwardness set aside and forgotten.
FIVE
DOMINIQUE
It’s just after four in the afternoon when I make it back to my place after my classes, my last one having run later than usual. Aaron is home when I arrive, sitting on the sofa with his hands folded beneath his chin, expression blank. According to the flight plan, his plane landed around one this afternoon.
I wanted to be here when he got back, but I had a quiz in two of my classes, so skipping today wasn’t an option. I reasoned with myself that Aaron wouldn’t be alone for long. Between waiting for baggage claim and dealing with traffic, he’d be home for two and a half hours at most before I got here, but seeing him now, I get the sinking feeling I made a big fucking mistake.
I should have been here. Hell, I should have insisted on picking him up from the airport instead of letting him catch a ride share home. I know how he gets sometimes, and I should have seen this coming.
