7. ~Brianna~

7

~Brianna~

"All right, just call me when you get back. Or, better yet, come by my place so we can actually talk in person. I don't like that the last time I saw you was for a brief five minutes before you headed off in your mom's town car. And then the longer time before that was you pissed drunk at that frat party and then—"

"I get it, Bree. It's okay," Chloe assured me down the line.

I grimaced. Was it okay?

It certainly didn't seem like it.

And, worse, it certainly didn't seem like she was going to sort it out either.

She might be a spitfire and somebody who lived their truth, marched to the beat of their own drum and all that, but it completely went out the window when she was facing down her fashion mogul mom, Celeste Anders. In fact, the way Chloe was around me and the students of Stonewell University was very clearly a case of overcompensation for that.

When she was in her mom's orbit, there was some major regression involved. She became disturbingly subservient to that overbearing woman's demands and decrees.

The night she'd texted me that she was ready to talk, I'd finally found out what had been eating at her and had her drinking herself into a stupor at the homecoming party. Although she'd claimed that she hadn't texted me, I'd arrived just in time as she'd been headed out of her apartment.

Because I'd been right there in her space, she'd actually told me what was going on.

Apparently, her mom didn't think Chloe was making enough traction in her career through her studies here, not getting enough notice and attention. So she'd hooked her up with a prestigious right-out-of-the-nepo-babies-handbook opportunity where she'd work at her mom's design firm while also studying at a private fashion school.

It was odd that it had come out of nowhere.

It was even stranger that her mom was suddenly seemingly worried about such a thing, seeing as though she'd been fine with Chloe coming here to Stonewell to study and she'd been applauding her designs and studies all of last year. Her main goal was to learn, not to garner attention all over the place. That would come in senior year once she had the knowledge to back her up, once she'd learned what she needed to in order to become a designer worth noticing, when she was actually ready to get her name out there.

This turnabout with Celeste made no sense. Not just because the timing of the first week into her second year was messed up. But also the fact that Chloe had thrived at this college because she could be herself away from her mom's influence. She'd grown into herself here.

And now, unless Chloe could stand up to her and stick to what she wanted, she'd lose that.

And we'd lose each other.

I'd offered to go with her, but she'd refused, wanting to handle it on her own.

I shook my head to myself as we said our goodbyes on the phone and I returned to reading over the assigned chapters in my textbook on data structures, while also finishing up eating my meatball sandwich. God, the marinara sauce was to die for. It was definitely going in my sandwich recipes book.

That's right, I had a recipe book just for my sandwich experiments.

I was a major fan of them—different types of bread, different and mixed ingredients, often with what would be seen as strange combinations to a lot of people. Sometimes I ate a sandwich for breakfast and lunch. At least I hadn't crossed over to dinner with it too.

I swallowed my last bite, then started packing my Tupperware back into my fluffy pink messenger bag, because my next class was in ten minutes. Usually I got excited at the prospect of an upcoming class but, this time, as I looked around the quad from the uttermost far back picnic bench out of the way of everybody else, it was bittersweet not having Chloe here.

Sure, we weren't in the same program, but we'd always plan things between our class schedules where we'd meet during the day for lunch—like we would've just now—or fun we'd have later at night. It sounded strange, but I could feel the emptiness without her here.

That was probably being compounded by the utter shock of running into Levi Knight after all this time.

He'd been gone and he was slated to be for a good long while—enough time for me to get my degree and be on my way out of Stonewell without ever encountering him.

Then he'd gone and thrown me for a loop. His friends too, from what I'd observed and overheard that night.

I didn't want to uproot my life yet again and start all over somewhere else.

At least not until I had my degree. Until I was ready for the next chapter.

I wanted to settle here for a while. Have some stability.

But with him being here, it put all that in jeopardy.

Unless I could get him off my radar, get him far away from me.

If we only passed by on the way to classes, I might be able to handle that.

But any more than that and it would be difficult for me to continue as I had been without what seeing him again represented to me—pain and darkness.

"Admit that you remember me."

No.

I couldn't.

I wouldn't.

Not to him.

And especially not to myself.

I rose from the bench and slung my bag over my shoulder, making my way around the edge of the quad away from everybody else, including the foursome who were tossing a freaking football around right in the middle that was flying through the air like a missile with those playing clearly having no idea what the hell they were doing. They'd already smacked a poor passerby's coffee out of their hand.

I didn't get very far before a shock of platinum-blond suddenly filled my vision, making me pull up short.

I jolted and abruptly found myself face-to-face with none other than Colton Sharp.

He shoved a hand through his wavy mohawk and grinned at me.

Oh no.

What the hell did he want?

It had to be wishful thinking to hope it was just a coincidence that a friend of Levi's who had never said more than a word to me last year had walked right up to me out of the blue.

He was dressed in his usual rocker chic way with his heavily-studded black leather jacket, a pair of tight navy jeans with what looked like a scarf covered in skulls as a belt and a partially shier metallic looking tee beneath.

"Can I help you?" I asked, hiding the edge that was just beneath the surface.

If I'd actually taken my normal route through the much more visible and populated areas of campus, then this wouldn't have even been possible. His popularity and star power would have ensured there were tons of students swarming around him.

The only time I'd ever seen that not happen was when he was with Mason Hall. Although, he was often just a silent observer in crowded situations, he had an eerie edge to him and a threatening sort of presence that managed to keep people away without him needing to say a thing.

"Well?" I pushed, when he just continued standing there and roaming his eyes over me in an oddly studious way, some sort of curiosity sparking as he did.

My black hair was loosely curled today and falling about my shoulders and I was clad in my pink houndstooth jacket and matching mini-skirt, along with a silk scoop neck tank beneath and a pair of black knee-high boots.

"I need your voice."

I started. "My… what?"

"Your voice," he repeated, as though the ask wasn't the least bit odd.

"Are we talking in a Little Mermaid way here?"

He frowned for a moment, then that movie star grin was right back, lighting up his pretty-boy-with-an-edge features. "Right, no stealing it or anything. Although, likening me to that sea witch is something I'm down with. She's a real badass."

Interesting way of looking at it.

Maybe interesting wasn't the right word.

He took a step closer, making me tense. "It's for a song I'm recording. A ballad. Yours has a unique quality and a timbre that will mesh well with the grittiness of mine." Off my surprised look, he explained, "When you sang karaoke at Nirvana , it stood out. So much so that it inspired the song I'm talking about."

"I'm not a trained singer. Nowhere close."

"That's fine. You have raw talent, something I can work with."

"I'm sure there are plenty of others who'd sell their souls to contribute to your work."

" Unique quality isn't something that there's an overabundance of."

"Then broaden your search."

He took another step closer and my back pushed against the building wall. "I want yours."

I sucked in a steadying breath, quickly wishing I hadn't when his scent wafted over me in a far too appetizing way.

"Ocean Breeze body wash," he told me, and I grimaced internally when I realized he'd caught me sniffing him.

He ran his tongue over his teeth as his smoky gray eyes fixed on me, and I took in his tongue piercing.

Don't focus on it. Look away.

I blinked and followed his attention that was drawn to my necklace, the one I wore every day, my blue and green all-seeing eye pendant.

It didn't exactly match that well with what I was wearing, but I couldn't go a day without wearing it.

To say it had sentimental value didn't begin to describe it.

"The Eye of Providence," he uttered to himself, before his eyes snapped back to mine. "You're a bit of a contradiction, aren't you, cutie?"

"I'm just me."

"Nah. You've got the whole Barbiecore thing going on, but then there's an edge to you too. This necklace, the tattoos I laid eyes on with the strappy tank you were wearing at the bar." He reached out and fingered my silky black hair. "The way you sang Hurt , the Leona Lewis version, like you were breathing it in and fueling it with a whole lot of heart and pain that night."

Crap.

I swallowed hard. "You're reading a lot into nothing."

"I guess we'll see when we work together."

I batted his hand away from my hair. "I'm flattered, but I can't. I have a lot going on. I know you'll find someone else easily."

"Playing hardball… that's new for me. Kind of invigorating, honestly."

"That's not what I'm—"

"I'll post Chloe's latest designs all over my IG. Endorse them myself, even do a Live if she's down with it."

Oh my God. He had hundreds of thousands of followers and given that he had connections to the celebrity community, that would undoubtedly be huge for Chloe, getting some real attention to her fashion designs.

This could go a long way to helping her to stay here.

Hold on a second. "Why offer this now?"

"Why not?"

"You know why she's not here right now?"

"Of course. It's all over her IG."

Oh.

"You'd know that if you were a little more sociable on there. Your last post was weeks ago sometime in the summer when you were close to finishing that fashion app." Off my look, he told me, "I was gonna message you to ask you about this until I realized you're hardly on there. Hence me approaching you in-person instead."

"I see."

"So? What do you say?"

Dammit. The bastard had me backed into a corner.

I couldn't let this opportunity pass by for her. She'd worked so hard and she'd been fighting to gain traction for the last few years since she'd started making her own clothes as a teen. I couldn't let her be wrenched from the life she'd been so excited about here in Stonewell. And this was my shot to prevent that from coming to pass.

I nodded. "Okay. Deal."

"And you?"

"Me?"

"Yeah, what do you want, cutie?"

"Nothing. I'm fine as is."

He cocked an eyebrow. "Everybody wants something."

"There is one thing."

"There it is." He folded his arms across his chest. "Go on, hit me with it."

"Keep Levi away from me."

He cocked an eyebrow. "Why is that?"

"It's my ask. End of story."

"Yeah, the thing is, asking me to make Lev do anything is like asking for the goddamn world."

"Then I guess we have a problem and—"

"Hold up. Look, we'd be doing this thing at our new place. There's a recording studio there. So you'd have your own chance to tell Levi to stay away. I'll be there as a buffer or whatever the shit."

"Hmm."

"It's seriously the best I can do when it comes to him."

He leaned in, catching me off guard, so much so that I couldn't even react as he breathed me in. "You should know, he's got his eye on you. And when Lev locks onto something, he doesn't just simply let go. Although, this is the first time that the target of his fixation has ever been a person. It's usually some lofty goal or dangerous objective. This is hella interesting, cutie."

A shudder rolled through me.

This wasn't good. Not at all.

I had to shut it down.

I figured the best way to do that was to make Levi believe that there was no connection on my end at all, to make it clear that he'd be slamming his head against a brick wall trying to access anything like that from me when it came to the past.

It was dead to me and that was all it could ever be.

I needed to make that clear ASAP. Especially if he was truly as obsessive as Colton was making him out to be.

"Fine. I'll take it."

"Good. Give me your number."

He pulled out his phone and I reeled it off to him. "Thanks. So, I'll get those posts out and tag the shit out of them for Chloe while you're in class." Pulling back in the next moment, he told me, "You smell real good, by the way. Mmm. Can't wait until we hook up." Off my scowl, he added with a laugh, "For the song, of course."

And, just like that, he was off with that swagger of his out in full force.

I slumped against the wall to take a beat and get myself together.

This year really wasn't getting off to the best start.

So many complications and surprises.

Two things I hated with a vengeance.