Page 99 of Fragile

Miles

Yeah, I’m about to get dressed and head over.

Hudson

We’re here for you, man.

Jay

Every step.

Seb

What they said. I’ll swing by later.

Hudson

What if he’s getting it on with your sister later?

Seb

You just had to go there.

Hudson

Spoiler: that won’t be the last time I go there either.

Smiling, I exit the chat, feeling my nerves settle. Doesn’t matter what happens today, these guys will still have my back.

Reaching into my drawers across the room, I choose a clean black shirt and slip it over my head, pulling my cast free, mentally preparing myself for the walk across campus to the dean’s office.

As soon as I’m outside the foggy glass door, I drop into a seat across from it. My leg starts bouncing uncontrollably, the jittery motion betraying the nerves I can’t quite shake. My fingers tap restlessly against my knee, and I rub my palms together, trying to calm the anxious energy. A shadow suddenly falls over me, and I freeze, quickly straightening up as I look up to see who it is.

Only when I do, I’m met with eyes that are the exact shade of brown like mine. Shoulders set with the same broadness and a jawline that I recognize because I see it in the mirror.

“Dad,” I say with a nod, keeping my voice even.

“Miles,” he repeats, echoing my cool demeanor.

I haven’t heard from him since the day he was asked to leave the hospital. No call, no text, no emails. Nothing. The bitterness I feel toward him is warranted, but the hurt and pain that’s also making my chest feel like it might cave in isn’t something that I expected. Mostly because I’ve been conditioned to disappoint him and now all I feel is hurt.

It doesn’t matter that I have feelings or show emotions. They were for the weak and, according to my dad, Cooper men weren’t made to be weak. We were meant to be bulletproof. Except I felt like glass, fragile and breakable. In fact, everything in my life felt fragile. My relationship with my dad, my football career, my childhood. But there’s one thing that always felt steady and constant and that was Quinn. She was there. As sure as the sun rose every day, my girl showed up for me.

Damn, I wish she were here right now.

“Miles. Mr. Cooper?” The dean stands in his doorway, observing us, probably wondering which one of us will snap first. Well, it won’t be me, not today. I hope.

Dad swaggers over to him, fingers touching his suit buttons until one perfectly manicured hand extends to him. “Jared, it’s good to see you again. I’m sorry it’s not under better circumstances.”

Well, fuck. There it is. Venom that stings.

“Miles.” He extends his hand to me too, and I take it with a firm shake, because Seb’s Dad always told me a good handshake is the foundation of impressions, first or last.

“Mr. Nesbit, sir.”

“Come in, both of you. Have a seat,” he says, gesturing toward his expansive mahogany desk.

We follow him into the room, the rich scent of polished wood filling the air. As we take our places in the sleek, leather chairs positioned before the imposing desk, silence falls over us.

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