Page 92 of Believing Bailey (Granton University 2)

“I promise,” I whispered, feeling my own determination in those words so strongly I could taste them. I’d never meant anything I’d said more in my life.

I wasn’t sure how I’d accomplish it, what hell I’d have to go through, what obstacles I’d have to overcome, but I was bound and determined to get better.

For her.

Unable to stop myself, I reached out and pulled her against my chest, hugging her. When her soft warmth smashed against me and she wrapped her arms around my waist in return, I buried my nose in her hair, inhaled her familiar fragrance, and squeezed my eyes closed, committing every feel, smell, and sound of her to memory before she slowly peeled herself away and smiled up at me.

“Drive safely,” I said quietly, only to shake my head and grin as I wondered if that edict were even possible.

As if remembering the way I’d freaked out on the way here, she smiled back, sharing the inside joke. Then she tapped my arm, saying, “I will,” and turned away to climb into her car. Her gaze met mine through the closed driver’s side window as her engine started.

I waved before stuffing my hands into my pockets, and she waved back. Then she put the care into drive and rolled away from me. Leaving me. My heart gave a hard, yet slow painful clang in my chest as I watched the back of her car slowly disappear down the road.

Ben shifted next to me, watching her leave as well, before he turned to me, saying, “So, you’re in love with my daughter, huh?”

I glanced at him, not answering. Answering didn’t seem necessary, and admitting anything aloud would probably freak me out. So I just went back to watching Bailey’s car become smaller and smaller as she left me, feeling more lost than ever, because holy shit, I did love her.

Chapter 30

BAILEY

Two weeks passed.

Classes resumed. Term projects came due. Work grew busy at the store as the shopping season bloomed. And time moved on.

Life should’ve returned to regular programing for me, too. I should’ve reverted to my usual self, annoyed and secretly jealous of my constantly necking roommates or complaining about my hardest professors to whoever would listen. But I wasn’t. I wasn’t annoyed, jealous, or disgruntled. I wasn’t much of anything really.

I sorta just grew numb.

Despondent.

Frozen in time as life went on around me.

When Paige came to me, telling me how more rumors were spreading about me—how I was a liar who helped rapists—I just shrugged it off, too discouraged by the hopelessness of my reputation to even care anymore. When Melody Fairfield showed up in the boutique where I worked and called me an ugly name before stomping out as soon she realized I was the sales clerk, I simply watched her go without a single cutting farewell remark. So untypical of me. But seriously, I couldn’t make myself care. None of it really mattered, because Beck wasn’t here and—

“You miss him, don’t you?”

I jerked my face up from my phone where I was rereading old texts from him.

He had started texting the day after I returned to Granton, saying his phone bill was coming due, but my dad had advanced him some money to pay it this month so he could keep talking to me.

We corresponded every day, but they were always mundane conversation, about how he’d met the three horses my family owned and how I had finals to study for. We didn’t discuss whether he’d had any more panic attacks without me around or how bad my name was getting smeared across campus. And we certainly didn’t mention the kiss.

I still couldn’t believe I’d kissed him on Thanksgiving Eve. In my defense, the guy hadn’t been able to breathe. And I’d panicked. When I’d suddenly remembered this show I’d watched where the girl had kissed the boy to distract him out of a panic attack, I’d tried it on a whim, and it had worked. I know, mind blown.

Except he’d kept kissing me back, and then touching me, before touching me. What was worse, I had kissed and touched him in return. And it’d been wonderful. So wonderful. I hadn’t known kisses could be that consuming or make a person that ravenou

s. I had wanted more, I’d wanted it all. My body had sobbed when I’d pushed him away, but I’d needed to stop it.

We couldn’t just keep kissing. I mean, he must’ve been confused, in the wrong frame of mind, something. I’m sure he hadn’t meant it to go that far, because why would he? No one had ever wanted me that much. Not in that way. And I knew he wouldn’t feel as if he could rightly stop.

All he’d ever talked about was how much he owed me, how he wanted to pay me back, how desperate he was to thank me properly for the way I’d helped him.

If he’d suspected I really wanted what he’d been giving me more than anything in the world, he would’ve felt obligated to continue, whether he’d been into it or not. I couldn’t trust his intentions, so I’d shut it down.

I had expected him to apologize afterward, but he hadn’t. It felt strange without someone saying sorry, so I had, except I’m not sure why, maybe for making him think he had to kiss me back. I don’t know. I wasn’t really that sorry, though. He’d made me feel wanted, and cherished, and desired in that kiss. He’d given me a gift I’d craved more than anything else in the world. I’d been honored and thankful. Not regretful.

I only wished he’d felt the same heat and desperation and closeness to me that I’d felt to him when our lips had been locked and fingers had gripped and bodies had strained. But there was no way I’d know now, because I’d pushed him away, and we hadn’t discussed it again after that.

---