Page 51 of Courting Clemson

Good morning, gorgeous girl. Just wanted to thank you for last night. I look forward to seeing you again soon. ~B

Okay…why were butterflies battling inside my stomach from a text message? I really didn’t want to like this guy—or any guy other than Luke—yet I couldn’t deny what my body was doing. And why was that so fucking sexy the way he signed his message with just one letter?

And now what? Do I message him back? Wait a bit and then answer? He said he didn’t have a lot of time for texting and phone talking, so this wasn’t something I put much thought into. I figured I’d get an impersonal notification from his assistant setting up our next meeting, and all these extra feelings wouldn’t be an issue. It would remain more of a business transaction than a relationship.

Maybe I was in over my head with all of this? It certainly wasn’t the first time that thought crossed my mind.

I had a nice time too. Thank you again for dinner.

There. Short and sweet and not demanding of any more of his time. That was the impression I got from him. He didn’t want a needy, clingy girl to deal with on top of his already busy and stressful day.

One thing was clear. I needed to talk to Grace. Immediately. It was still too early to call her, though. The girl slept until noon and thought nothing of it. I decided to drag myself out of bed and get a shower. Feeling much better afterward, I made some eggs for breakfast and ate alone at the breakfast counter.

Usually, I enjoyed the house when everyone was gone. The quiet helped keep my mind in check. I especially preferred solitude to the mornings strangers lumbered into our kitchen from one of my roommates’ rooms and made themselves at home here. Even worse, when they ate my food or sat staring at me like I should cook for them or keep them company while my roomies caught up on their beauty sleep.

But today, the silence was like dripping water landing in an empty metal bucket. Every sound echoed through the house and made me jumpy. To kill some time until I could talk to Grace, I started some laundry and changed the sheets on my bed. While I bustled around the house, I added things to the lists I’d started the night before.

I sent Solei an email through the agency’s portal and told her about last night. I tried to keep any emotion out of the wording so she wouldn’t think I was already falling for the first guy who showed interest.

But wasn’t I?

My phone rang just as I was transferring a load of clean clothes from the washer to the dryer. I nearly leaped out of my skin when the ringtone sounded through the empty rooms. I knew immediately by the song playing that it was Grace. I snatched the thing off the counter and accepted the call.

“Hey, girl!” I greeted brightly.

“Hi!” she chirped back.

I smiled, soaking in the comfort of her voice. “I miss you so much. When are you coming back?” I blurted, not caring if my desperation made her feel guilty.

“God, what was I thinking coming here? They’re driving me crazy. I’m supposed to be here all week, but I don’t know if I’ll be able to do it. Honestly, Clemson, they treat me like I’m still in grade school. And my mom literally follows me from room to room and then just stands there staring at me with this creepy smile on her face.”

“Aww, honey, it sounds like they just miss you. That’s all.”

My own parents never even asked if I was coming home for summer break this year. Part of me was hurt by that, but a bigger part of me made peace with the unique relationship we had long ago. I soothed my hurt feelings with the knowledge that the less time I spent around them, the less likely I would slip up or break down and tell them what had happened with my scholarship.

My mom was an expert at luring me in with sweet, kind words that would get me to let my guard down. Once I’d tell her what was bothering me or simply going on in my life, she’d instantly make me regret it by telling my dad or getting overly dramatic about whatever I’d shared.

It was an obnoxious ploy, and I’d learned a long time ago not to fall for it. The few moments of feeling loved and supported were never worth the emotional shitstorm that followed.

“I’m dying to hear about the date last night,” Grace said, shaking me from my thoughts.

I couldn’t have been more grateful to redirect my mental energy.

“I swear I almost called you three different times. I was totally freaking out before going, and then after, I just wanted to review the whole night in excruciating detail,” I confessed through a laugh.

“That sounds completely on-brand for you, my friend.”

“You love me. You know you do.”

“I do. I do. So tell me about it. About him. Wait,” she said excitedly. “What did you wear?”

“You know that navy wrap-dress I have? The silky light-weight one?”

“Oh, your body is smoking hot in that. Poor man was probably sporting a boner the whole night. Well, if he can still get one.”

“Grace!” I nearly choked on the swig of water I just took. “He’s not that old. And honestly, he’s fucking hot. Seemed plenty virile to me.”

“Oh? Do tell,” she encouraged.

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