Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve

Clemson

Things didn’t go as smoothly at the registration office as I’d hoped. After leaving the cramped little room and bursting out into the fresh morning air, I had to wonder what I’d expected. My luck had been shitty lately, and I should’ve expected a problem rather than a solution.

Apparently, the deadline to file an extension had passed. They weren’t keen on making an exception for me, either. So that left me with three days to post just over twenty grand to my student account, or I was out for the semester. I wouldn’t even be able to drop into classes on the chance they had openings on their rosters if my financial account wasn’t in good standing.

How the hell was I supposed to know any of that? Since I had been on scholarship funding my entire time at this school, it wasn’t something I ever had to concern myself with. I couldn’t even find the damn office at first and circled the administration building twice before locating the little closet they called their office.

Now I was sweaty and hot and frustrated as hell. I slumped down on a ledge of the big fountain that stood proudly in the student quad and stared at the ground.

At the moment, I was as close to rock bottom as I had ever felt. So many of these stupid things I was having to deal with were a direct result of my own laziness and denial about my grades. If I had handled things earlier, I wouldn’t be in any of these predicaments, so I had no one to blame but myself.

That meant I shouldn’t expect anyone to swoop in and fix it for me either. I’d made the mess. I’d clean it up.

I hiked across the school grounds to the parking lot and scanned the rows of cars. Where the hell did I park? When I spotted my car, I headed toward it and let my mind wander back to the conversation I’d had this morning with Brian.

Seemed like he was a morning person, which I liked. The guy was stacking up the checkmarks in the pro column on my mental green-flag list. We set up tentative plans for our next date the following night. He said there was a comedy club he thought I’d enjoy, and if he could get away from work early enough, we’d have dinner before.

It made sense why a lot of women wouldn’t like this kind of uncertain schedule. I was a pretty flexible person by nature, and reminding myself of the cash incentive made it all fine. But if that big factor wasn’t part of the equation, I completely understood how it would get old.

I had to discuss payment with him no matter how uncomfortable it would be. Otherwise, all of this stress was for nothing. If I didn’t make the finance deadline, I’d be out until spring semester. At that point, I might as well throw in the towel completely and go home.

Forget school, forget swimming, and forget Luke, too.

There were big feelings of guilt where he was concerned. I didn’t like keeping this major part of my life from him. It felt like lying, even though it wasn’t outright doing so. But I was being deceitful, and no matter how I tried to sugarcoat it, that was what it was. And he didn’t deserve to be caught up in my shitstorm.

But I couldn’t bring myself to tell him what was going on. And I couldn’t force myself to cut him loose either. He had so many qualities I wanted in a boyfriend. Maybe I’d ask Solei for advice on balancing the sugar dating with personal relationships without going into too much detail. Though I probably could guess what her wisdom would be. Who in their right mind would try to juggle both?

Well, I always did like a challenge.

As I headed across campus to the aquatic center, my mind raced. There wouldn’t be any reprieve either until I had this financial obligation settled. Once I dove into the pool, it would all wash away. I was so thankful I had practice today. I planned on hitting it hard and letting go of this incessant stress for a few hours.

Unfortunately, practice wasn’t the relief I was hoping for. My head coach called me into their office while we were stretching, and I got another ass-chewing about letting my grades slip. I wanted to just tell the man I’d heard enough about the situation already, but I respectfully listened and agreed to what he was saying when prompted.

I could be an obedient little puppy when necessary, but it went against every natural cell in my body to do so. And where had they been when I really needed their help? It all seemed like too little too late. Too little concern, and way too late to actually help me fix it.

When he finally finished, he asked me, “So what’s your plan?”

The tension in the air grew while he stared directly at me, waiting for an answer.

“Coach? Plan for what exactly?” I asked quietly.

“For school. For the team. For the whole mess you’ve got here,” he snapped, making me feel like an idiot.

“You have to know this team is everything to me. You know I give one hundred and ten percent, even at practice.” For the first time, enough emotion backed up in my throat that my voice cracked. “I’m doing everything humanly possible to come up with the money for this semester’s tuition. I have three days left to post the total to my account.”

“Do you have the money?” he asked, surprising me with his intrusive question.

Did I owe him an answer here? The way he was burrowing into my soul with his intense stare made me feel like I did. The rational part of my brain—which was getting buried under a mountain of nervous energy at the moment—told me it wasn’t his damn business.

“I will,” I said, not able to hold his gaze.

“Farsay, be real with me right now. Am I about to lose one of my best swimmers?” he barked, and I honestly worried I’d shed tears.

“No, Coach. I’m taking care of it,” I croaked while white-knuckling the goggles in my fist. I’d crush the plastic if I didn’t ease up.

“Can’t your parents pay your tuition? I probably could get in hot water for asking you that, but I need to know what my lineup is going to look like for next season,” he said while gripping the back of his neck.

This conversation wasn’t helping either of us, just adding more worry. Couldn’t he see that?

Eventually, after skirting around questions about my parents’ financial health, he dismissed me from his office. Of course, everyone gave me a long stare-down as I crossed the deck to my assigned lane.

I checked the board for my workout and dove into the tepid water.

By the time I got home, I was exhausted. I’d worked out as hard as I could and let my mind have a break while I swam. If I could live underwater, I would. The real world was shut out beneath the surface, and it had been my happiest place from childhood on. My parents used to get furious when they would scold me or nag me and I would dive under the water so I wouldn’t have to listen to their shit. I smiled remembering that as I got out of my car and grabbed my bag from the back seat.

I came to an abrupt halt at the front door of our little rental, as an enormous floral arrangement sat on the welcome mat. The cut glass vase caught the sunlight and reflected a sparkling rainbow pattern onto the patio’s wood planks.

I reached around and unlocked the front door and pushed it open before lifting the bouquet to take it inside. The fragrance coming off the flowers was intoxicating, and I buried my nose in the blooms while carrying the thing to the table.

There was a card nestled in the greenery, so once my hands were available, I eagerly pulled it out. My name was on the envelope in neat, precise penmanship. Impatiently, I tore open the little square and read the note.

Luke. How sweet and thoughtful. I dug out my phone and first took a few pictures of the arrangement. I cropped the best one and sent it to Grace with a string of emojis following.

Then, I sent the same picture to Luke with a heartfelt thank you. He responded right away and asked me out for dinner. I was so tired and really just wanted to get into bed and be done with the day, but the more I thought about my schedule for the rest of the week, it was likely I wouldn’t have another opportunity to see him. If I were going to balance two relationships, I had to fit in seeing him where I could.

We went back and forth a couple of times before he finally just called me.

“Hi,” I said, grinning so wide I’d be embarrassed if I weren’t home alone.

“Hello, beautiful. How was practice?”

I appreciated that he always seemed to know what I had going on. If I told him in passing that I had weight training instead of pool practice, he remembered and would ask about it.

If neither of these things I had going on worked out, I’d already learned one thing. I preferred men older than my own peers. They were so much more considerate and confident. And my God, was the confidence a turn-on for me.

“It was fine. Good,” I amended. It wasn’t my performance in the water I was unhappy about today. It was that lecture I was forced to endure by my coach.

“Just good? Something about your tone tells me it wasn’t that good,” Luke observed.

Okay, maybe his attention to detail is too astute.

“ Truly,” I assured him, “it was fine. I think I’m just tired.” I chuckled. “When am I not, though?”

“Has Grace come back?”

“Tomorrow sometime. Knowing her, she’ll get on the road the minute she wakes up. She’s been climbing the walls spending time with her parents in close quarters.”

Luke got quiet, and I worried why. He was normally very open and chatty.

“What’s going on? Did I say something?” I asked, ready to take the blame for whatever went sideways.

“No, no it’s not you. I get lost in thoughts about my own parents sometimes. I guess I miss them.”

“I’m sorry. If we were together right now, I’d give you a big hug.”

“If you’re too tired to go out, we can just stay in. Hang out, watch TV, or whatever. Would you rather do that?”

“I am a bit of a homebody. I’d take staying home to going out any day.”

He hummed along in agreement while I spoke. “I hear that. I’m the same way. I think fighting traffic has a lot to do with it for me. I hate commuting, and I’m so thankful I don’t have too far to go. But the freeways that make the most sense for me are some of the most congested in the city. When I get home, the last thing I want to do is go back out.”

“I have to say, if I had a place as stunning as yours, I’d probably never leave. Is there a pool in your building?” I asked. Honestly, not having one would be a deal breaker for me.

“There is. On the roof. I’ll have to take you up there next time you come over. There’s a jacuzzi too.”

“Oh, I’d like that. I bet the views from up there are incredible.”

“They really are. When the weather cooperates, you can see all the way out to the Channel Islands.”

“That’s Catalina, right? My parents used to take us there on day trips. It got kind of boring when we were teenagers, but what doesn’t?” I laughed.

He chuckled too. “Yeah, it’s your basic tourist trap. One time is plenty. People always want to go there, though, when I have guests in town.”

“Try living in LA. People always want to see the Walk of Fame and Pinks. And honestly, the food isn’t worth the line at that place. But that’s just my opinion.”

“Can’t say that I’ve ever been.”

“Okay, I need to do one more thing before leaving for the day,” he said. “Since Grace is still gone, why don’t I come over to your place? I’ll bring takeout.”

I thought the plan sounded perfect.

Luke said he would call when he was on his way and estimated between six and seven. We hung up, and I took a good look around the living room and panicked. The place was a complete mess, and I couldn’t remember the last time someone used the vacuum.

So, in a crazed whirlwind, I set to cleaning the little rental and getting as much done as I could before stopping to shower and get ready. I was never a big fan of makeup, but after a few coats of mascara and some lip oil, I looked pretty good. The house was presentable at least, and I paced back and forth from the kitchen to the front door waiting for him to arrive.

It was the height of the summer now, and even though we enjoyed the daily breeze from being so close to the ocean, it was hot. I wore cut-off denim shorts and a cute little corset-style tank top. My legs looked incredibly long and toned in the short shorts, and the whole outfit seemed perfect for a night around the house.

I knew I’d made the right choice when I answered the door and watched Luke give me a head-to-toe sweep with very hungry eyes.

“Jesus, Clemson,” he muttered and stepped closer for a long, intimate hug.

I leaned back, smiling. “What?” My anxiety tried to rear its nasty head, but I stuffed it down with a forced smile and waited for his response.

“Please don’t wear those shorts outside of my presence. I’m feeling very…” He paused for a long moment and took an obvious second look around the backside of my body at my ass. “Territorial,” he finally breathed out.

My grin grew wider at his admission. Normally I wouldn’t stand for this possessive type of request, but I was getting used to honest, unfiltered reactions where Luke was concerned. Instead of a red flag, it appeared more like an endearing quality that I wanted to capture in a jar for all the times I felt insecure.

“Noted,” I said simply and couldn’t make my damn smile settle down.

To change the topic, I asked, “What did you bring? It smells so good, I want to tear into those bags.”

He looked sheepish for a few beats. There was a look I hadn’t seen on his face before. Even that was attractive on him, and I couldn’t stand wishy-washy men.

“I took a chance and got Greek. I have no idea if you like it, but it’s all pretty healthy, and this place has the freshest ingredients. I think you’ll like it,” he said, pitching his dinner choice like I imagined he did an ad campaign. Pointing out all the positives and planting a seed of how I should feel about his choice with enticing and suggestive words.

“You’re pretty clever, Mr. Allen. You know that?” I teased while we sat down at my little breakfast bar.

He looked puzzled. “What do you mean?”

“Your advertising genius is showing, and you don’t even know you’re doing it. I’m pretty convinced I love Greek food—and I’ve never had it—just from the way you described it.”

Nodding in understanding, he said, “Ahh, you’re right. Occupational hazard.”

We loaded our plates and dug in, and he was right. The food was exceptional. We talked a lot about his job, how he ended up in advertising, and a little about the future. Not our future, necessarily, but where he would like to see his career go and what he was doing to ensure that path opened up for him.

There was a lot to learn from this guy. I listened to what he said, not just because he was smart and successful, but because he was really interesting and funny. He loaded the conversation with little stories about the team that worked for him, and by the time our meal was done, I felt like I knew the men and women that worked for him too.

We decided to watch a movie and cuddled on the sofa while it played. Luke was obsessed with my long hair and always had his fingers in it in one way or another. I moaned out loud when he massaged my scalp during a slow part of the movie. I wanted his hands all over, not just in my hair.

“That feels so good. You’re giving me goosebumps,” I muttered into the dark room.

“You should let me give you a massage sometime. These hands are magic.” He grinned while spreading his big palms in front of us and wiggling his fingers.

“Oh, I imagine they are. Just from what I’ve felt so far,” I replied and couldn’t miss the flood of arousal rushing to my pussy.

With very little convincing, I agreed to a massage. Really, who didn’t want a massage when someone offered it? Even if it led to fooling around, which I was damn sure it would, I was completely on board with it.

“You’re not going to believe this,” I began, “but I actually have a massage table.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“I had a shoulder injury in high school,” I explained, “and it flares up now and then. Not the area of the body to hurt as a swimmer, as you can imagine.”

“Where is it? Is it easy to set up?” he asked, completely on board for doing this the right way.

“It’s in my room. And yes, it’s just the portable type. Nothing fancy. It just made more sense to have my own so when the team trainer works on me, she doesn’t have to lug hers in from her car. Mostly, we do it at the pool where she has all the best equipment.”

“Does your school invest in the sports programs, or are they an afterthought? Academics first?”

“Well, I’m sure it’s nothing like a D1 school, I’ve seen some of the most incredible facilities at the big schools, but I think they are taking it more seriously than they used to. They just completely overhauled the aquatics center like three years ago. It’s beautiful.”

“I can’t wait to watch you compete,” he said like it was a given he’d be cheering for me in the stands this season. “On the table,” he instructed with a couple of pats on the padded leather bench.

I just smiled at him, touched that he had given it some thought and that he’d be willing to come support me.

“My parents don’t even come to watch anymore,” I said quietly, struck by a sadness I hadn’t felt in a long time. Or one I hadn’t let myself feel in a long time, anyway.

Before I climbed onto the table, Luke wrapped his arms around my waist and stared into my eyes. He was just a few inches taller than me, so the embrace was very comfortable. Natural.

“I’ll be there every time you invite me.”

Boldly, I leaned in and kissed him. I couldn’t stop myself. It just felt like the perfect time. We stood there kissing for a few minutes, and when I noticed he was getting an erection, I pulled back. I didn’t mean to tease him, but an erotic massage was sounding better by the minute after that kiss we’d just shared.

I slipped my shirt over my head while he watched. Next, I unbuttoned the shorts he loved so much and let them fall past my hips to the floor. I stepped out of them and climbed on the table in my bra and panties as gracefully as I could manage.

Luke was silent the entire time, and I prayed I hadn’t misread the situation.

“I’m going to have dreams about this body,” he said in a husky tone once I settled on my stomach. “Okay, more accurate dreams,” he chuckled.

“You dream about me?” I asked, my own voice dropping in tone too. With my face down in the horseshoe-shaped pad, I felt much bolder to ask him to elaborate.

“Oh, girl,” he groaned. “If you only knew.”