35. Chapter 35

T he flickering of my eyelids pulls me from the few hours of sleep I managed to get last night. Attempting to roll, my body is met with the resistance of a heavy arm draped across my middle. Snapping my eyes to the arm, I feel my heart tick in panic as familiar blond hair and a large hand greet me.

Crew nestles his face in my hair, free from my hair tie. Warm lips find the spot where my neck and shoulder meet as I melt into his front. My head pounds as my stomach rolls. I feel like I'm hungover, and while I may be, I know the alcohol isn't the cause. Last night's panic attack was the scariest one thus far. I thought I was going to die from a heart attack right there in a college campus bar.

The beating of my heart increases as I remember why I was experiencing an attack on a night when I was supposed to be having fun celebrating with my friends. Fighting Crew's hold, I roll over until I'm facing him. Brown eyes peek through the slits of his eyelids as he watches me.

"You wanna talk about it?" His deep voice is husky with exhaustion. The dark circles under his eyes tell me he didn't sleep last night. Guilt swirls in my belly at the thought of him losing sleep over me and my fucked-up situation.

"Hefoundme." I rush the words out before I lose my nerve. Crew whips his head back as if I slapped him .

"What do you mean he found you? How?"

Closing my eyes, I rest my forehead on his bare chest, unable to make eye contact. "I don't know how, but the school posted a photo from the charity tournament. He must have some kind of facial recognition or my name in a search that'll trigger an alert if posted online."

"Bret, I think it's time to look into your options."

I stiffen at his admission. I know he's right, but deep down, I'm terrified of what's going to happen. I'm scared no one will believe me and my character will be questioned, which will drag my parents and brother through the mud. No one needs that kind of drama, especially my dad, who's already facing issues with the media.

"Baby, I know it's hard, but last night was really fucking crazy. I thought—" His voice breaks as he swallows a lump of emotions. "I thought I was going to lose you last night."

Springing my eyes up, I meet his gaze and find moisture lining his mocha irises. My heart breaks at the sight of the vulnerability that meets me. "I'm sorry I put you through that. It must've been awful for you to witness."

"Rebel, you have nothing to apologize for." He cups my face, brings his lips to mine, and presses into a searing kiss. I melt into the kiss, thankful to have found him.

Pulling away, I roll away from him before sliding out of the covers. I'm still dressed in my athletic shorts. My jersey has been removed, leaving me in a sports bra. Crew rolls to his back, the sheet clinging to his waist, as his broad, muscular chest is completely exposed. I stare at the cross above his heart—the pure heart that cares deeply. I wonder if his dad was watching over him and saw that we needed each other in our lives.

"Where are you running off to so early?" His eyes are closed as his bent arm rests over his face.

"I need to go have a conversation with Grant that I should have had months ago." Moving back to the bed, I kneel on the mattress, resting my hands in my lap. Crew's eyes peek open as he watches me. "I'm sorry for dragging you into this mess, putting you in the middle, and asking you to keep us a secret. I never should have done that. It wasn't fair to you, Crew."

He sits up, the sheet falling away, as he moves closer to me. Cupping my face, he gazes down at me from where he kneels in front of me. "Bret Addison Campbell, you have nothing to apologize for. I would do anything for you. Hell, if you wanted to keep us a secret forever, I would have done that. Selfishly, I loved having you to myself."

"I don't deserve you, Crew Riggsby."

"That's just it, baby. You deserve the whole damn world, and try as I might, I will ensure you have everything you want in this life. I love you."

"I love you, too." Pulling him in for a hug, I squeeze him tight as I bury my face into his chest, and I let a few tears break free. Crew isn't in a hurry to break our connection, he lets me take all of the time I need to regroup. Once I feel ready, I slip out of his embrace and out of his door.

The apartment is quiet as I walk down the hallway toward my bedroom. Skipping the shower I desperately need, I change into a pair of joggers and an oversized hoodie. Looking at the logo, I see it's one of Crew's, and I debate changing out of the Silo Bay Hawks sweatshirt.

Fuck it. I could wear a ballgown or a plastic bag, and Grant would find a reason to hate it. He's going to be livid no matter what I show up in, might as well wear what I want.

After a fast trip to the bathroom, where I empty a full bladder and scrub last night's stale beer taste from my mouth, I grab my keys and slip out of the apartment .

Twenty-five minutes later, I'm standing outside Grant's townhouse doors with two coffees in hand. Rapping my knuckles on the metal door, I wait for him to open it. When I think he isn't going to open, he swings the door open. I'm met with a disheveled Grant whose hair is sticking out in a hundred different directions and a scowl mars his features. His nose flares as his eyes flash with anger.

"Addy," he grits my name through his teeth, which causes my chin to wobble. I can't explain the wave of emotion that hits me. Maybe it's the realization that I've caused more pain in our already strained relationship or the fact that we are growing further apart each day. Our lives are going in different directions, leading farther and farther away from each other.

Grant's eyes soften slightly as he holds the door open wider for me to enter. Crossing the threshold, I hand him one of the steaming to-go cups from a local coffee shop, which is why it took me so long to get to Grant's. Fresh cleaning scents welcome me as I move further into the open space. A large sectional faces a TV with an ottoman in the middle. A smaller kitchen sits off to the left, facing the living room. Not a decoration or personal detail is in the sterile space.

As I sit on the leather couch, the door shuts behind me with a slight slam. I bend my knees in front of me, burrowing into the corner of the armrest, and hold my legs.

Grant sits opposite me, legs spread wide as he rests his coffee in his hands. Silence falls over the room, neither of us speaking. I am still trying to figure out where to even begin. Would he rather hear about the panic attack? What brought me to CTU? Or my relationship with Crew? The number of white lies and secrets stacked up, their height almost resembling Mount Everest.

With a deep exhale, I meet Grant's stare. "Where do you want me to start? I have no idea where to even begin this conversation. "

"I don't fucking know, Addy. Maybe try the beginning? The part I've been begging you to talk to me about." He runs his hand through his hair as he rests against the back of the couch. "It's been nothing but secrets since you arrived. I'm glad to have you here, but it's been nothing but secrecy."

"That's my right, Grant. I told you I would tell you when I was ready."

"How long have you been fucking my teammate? My friend ?" I reel back as if I'd been slapped. His tone drips with so much disgust I think it would have hurt less if he would have called me a slut.

"I guess I deserve that," I whisper before resting my chin on my knees. "If I start telling you everything that's happened, I need you to do me a favor."

"I'm not sure you're in the best position to ask for favors."

"Grant, I'm not fucking joking. I need you to sit in that spot, remain calm, and let me tell you everything. No interjecting with rude comments or asking me a thousand questions. It's hard for me, okay?"

"All right, Addy. I'm not making any promises, but I'll try."

Bringing my to-go cup to my lips, I savor the burn of the rich, dark roast as it coats my tongue before traveling down my throat, warming the path as it goes.

"There's been a rift between us since last school year, and I know it's my fault. I hate how our relationship has started to deteriorate. I always assumed it would be inevitable, but I thought it would be when you found a wife and you'd start doing things with her family instead of ours. Little did I know that I'd be the one to find someone and fuck everything up."

"Ad—"

"Grant, please." He nods reluctantly. "When you and Dad came to visit, you both met Chad. I should've listened to you then and believed everything you said. You'll never know how deeply sorry I am for listening to a boy I'd just met over my best friend."

For the next ten minutes, I shared with Grant all of the problems that came from my relationship with Chad. I leave out some of the details. There are just some things a brother doesn't need to know, like his sister with a handful of pills, because that version of me is long gone. Even with the events from last night, I know deep down I'm not that scared girl looking for a way out.

Anger seeped from Grant, and a few times, he stood from the couch and paced the room. His hands stayed clenched at his sides the entire time, his nose flared, and he muttered indecipherable words. When I shared what happened last night, he threw his remote. I never realized Grant had such an anger issue. Maybe he should have played defense so he could hit more things.

"I'll kill him," he roars from where he's burning a path in his carpet. "I'm not kidding. I'll fly to Arizona right now, find the small dick motherfucker, and I'll kill him."

"Okay, bro." I roll my eyes. "You and Crew won't be killing anyone. I'll handle it."

"You'll handle it? It's been a year, Addy. A year of this asshole tormenting you, forcing you to change your plans, and leaving you scared of your own shadow. The buck stops now." He's right, I know he is, but I'm scared of the repercussions. "Why do you have that look on your face?"

"Because I'm scared of what will happen." He shakes his head, and I can tell he doesn't understand. "What if they can't prove any of the incidents, and I look like the girl who cried wolf? What if they drag you and Dad into the mix? That kind of negative press isn't good for either of you, not when Dad's facing shit from his loss, and you're looking to be hired on. "

"Who gives a shit about us? I know Dad would feel the exact same way. You come first, Ads. No job is more important than your safety, so stop using us as an excuse. Let's talk to someone to see if you have enough evidence. The university has a ton of lawyers on retainer. Let me figure out what we need to do to stop this guy. Maybe even threatening to go public or bring attention to the dean at Arizona will cause him to back off. But let me handle that."

Silence falls over the room as we both process the information overload. My forehead rests against my knees as the urge to curl up and fall asleep hits me. Emotional baggage is heavy, and when you unload the piles of trauma it can feel like a weight is being released, freeing you, while also feeling completely drained as all of the sensations course through your body, leaving you on an adrenaline crash.

"I love him, Grant." Nostrils flare, and his eyes turn into slits as he glares at me. "I'm in love with Crew. It's not something we planned, but it was inevitable."

"Inevitable? Do you hear yourself?" Leaning forward, he places his elbows on his knees and stares at me. "You spent the last twenty minutes talking about how you thought you were in love with a guy who was playing mind games on you. Then you transfer schools without telling anyone and move in with my teammates after I casually brought up that some of my friends were looking for a place to live. You're here for five minutes and fall in love again. Do you even know what love is?"

"It's not whatever game you're playing with Savannah. And I didn't jump straight into bed with him as if he was a complete stranger, fuck you very much." It's my turn to get angry as I feel my body heat rise from my blood boiling.

"You were at the same party I was at last Christmas. You witnessed my time spent with Crew. Anyone with eyes could see that there was chemistry with us, but I was in a relationship with a piece of shit. I friend-zoned him so fast his head spun. When I came here, I had no idea he was one of my roommates. It's not like I had this grand plan to move here and trick your teammate into falling for me.

"I wanted to fight it. I tried, but you can't fight love, Grant. It happened, and I was the one who told him we had to keep it a secret. It was my idea to hide us from the world. If you want to be mad at someone, be mad at me. And you definitely have no right to be mad at JP and Tyler—they knew nothing."

"Bullshit. There's no way those two didn't know about you two."

I shake my head, pushing a loose strand of hair from my face. "They really didn't. I heard them talking about it last night. The guys are just as pissed as you are."

"I don't think they're just as pissed."

"You know what I mean." He nods as the conversation lulls. I watch as he processes all of the information shared today.

Grant stands and makes his way around the sectional. I watch as he goes into the kitchen and grabs his phone. His thumbs fly over the keys as he types before scanning the screen. Walking over to the fridge, he holds open the door.

"I don't know about you, but I'm hungover as fuck and then all of that"—he waves his hand around the air in a circular motion—"I could use a sports drink. Want one?"

"Please, red if you've got one."

"Saved the cough syrup flavor just for you." He tosses me the bottle as he takes his place back on the couch, his nose glued to his phone. Whatever he's reading must be intriguing.

Twisting open the orange cap, I take a long chug of the red liquid as I savor the fruity drink .

"Okay, I've got an idea." It turns out that Grant was reading information on legal proceedings and ways to improve my security measures until things with Chad end.

Grant researches as I jot down essential findings for the rest of the afternoon. Both of us nurse hangovers—mine is emotional, and his is very much from the alcohol he consumed last night. By the time I'm ready to drive back to my apartment, the two of us have created a plan of action.

It has me hopeful that everything will finally come to an end and that I can return to enjoying my life.