Page 29 of Cruel Love

A drawer shut with a snap, and I imagined him sitting at his desk, finishing the paper he told me he had to do earlier.

Irritation hummed through me because I was approaching hangry. “I’m going to stop for a sandwich. Want me to bring anything back for you?”

“What kind of question is that?”

“A ridiculous one. I’ll get you one. I’m almost there. I’ll just come to your room when I get back.”

I hit the button to disconnect the call as the light changed. The sub place I had in mind wasn’t far, and within minutes, I pulled into the parking lot and headed inside, where the smell of freshly baked bread almost brought about a foodgasm as the overly enthusiastic girl behind the register asked to take my order. I swallowed the sound because that would have been embarrassing.

I placed an order for two subs, chips, and a lemonade then paid. Rather than standing at the counter and watching them while they made the food, I wandered over to one of the booths and sat, dropping my head into my hands.

What the hell had happened tonight? First, that shit-show at my parents’. I was glad they were getting along, but it was completely unnatural, and I was still furious at my dad—with good reason. He owed me an apology, and not one delivered through Mom.

But that didn’t even touch the iceberg of weird. Phoenix’s grandfather. What was that about? A shudder ripped through me at the memory, the coldness of his gaze and demeanor. If he wasn’t related by blood to the baby I carried, I would have barely wasted an iota of attention on him then waved a middle-finger salute as I passed by. But the situation was different, and the impression I’d made with him wasn’t a good one.

My order was called, and I slammed the door on my thoughts and stood to get the food.

I picked it up, drove the rest of the way back to campus, parked, then headed straight for the stairwell inside that would take me to Max’s dorm room, silencing my phone so I could think for a few minutes without feeling like a Ping-Pong ball.

I trudged to Max’s door, knocked, and dropped my purse on the floor when he opened it. A pang of guilt hit me because I’d silenced my phone but knew Phoenix was trying to reach me. But I couldn’t deal with what had happened, and I knew that was what he wanted to talk about.

The freak-show growl from my stomach had Max cracking up, and I glared at him. I hadn’t eaten much at my parents’ before I’d gone to see Phoenix and imagined that sex burned a lot of calories.

I held up the bag of food. “I brought subs. I hope that’s okay.”

“It’s food that’s not from the cafeteria, so of course it’s okay.” Max dug around in the bag and pulled everything out. I headed for his bed with my sandwich in hand. “But I do not want crumbs in my bed.” He glared at me.

“Fine.” I grumbled under my breath about how crappy the night was turning out and changed direction. Max had a single room, but there were still two desks and dressers. I took one of the desks, and he took the other.

“How are you doing with our art midterm?”

I was grateful to talk about anything other than Phoenix or his awful grandfather. “I’m close to finishing. I’ve got the canvas divided into three sections and everything sketched out for a beach scene with the surfer riding the curl in a triptych of realism, abstract, and nonobjective styles.”

He chuckled. “You sound like Professor Potts. Realism in the center?”

“Yep,” I said around a rather large bite of sandwich. I flicked a piece of lettuce off my shirt, and Max rolled his eyes. “You?”

“It’s over there. The silhouette portraits with hand-lettered typography.”

I glanced at his art and had to force myself to swallow so I didn’t choke. “Max. Wow. It’s fantastic.” Words swirled around two male silhouettes in an almost-tribal way, creating a unique pattern combined with seamless illustrations of rainbows, lines, and swirls. It was truly impressive. “You nailed it.” I left my sandwich on the desk and threw my arms around him. “I can’t tell you how much I love it.”

“Thanks.” His cheeks pinked. “Jaxon and I worked on our projects this afternoon, and he finished his too.”

I settled back into my seat but didn’t pick up my sandwich right away. “Things are headed in the right direction with you guys?”

“They are.” He smiled, but it quickly fell. “What happened today? You look amazing and also like hell, which is an unusual combination.”

That summed it up perfectly because I felt the same way. I filled him in on how Phoenix and I had talked, how incredible he was, and that I couldn’t have asked for anything to go differently until that shit with his grandfather. I spilled about how creepy the guy was, the bra incident, him asking me to leave, and the talk he wanted to have with me tomorrow.

“That’s not good.” Max’s expression was stricken. “Do not meet with him. Nothing good can come from that.”

I squinted at him. “The man will be my baby’s great-grandfather. I’m not sure if blowing him off is in my best interest.”

“Sweetie”—he leaned forward and grabbed both of my hands—“I see doom everywhere with this. Do not go.”

I nodded absently. I had a lot to think about, and after we ate, I returned to my room to try to sort out my feelings and options. My phone was vibrating like crazy, and I couldn’t ignore it any longer. With dread, I read through a ton of apologies from Phoenix and requests to call him, saying he wanted to talk to me.

My fingers hovered over the screen as I tried to think of something to say. As I was typing and deleting, Mom called. I answered, taking the escape from agonizing over what to say to Phoenix. “Hi, Mom.”

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