All In (Cedar Mountain University #2) Read online

  And I love that stupid coffee like a fat kid loves cake.

  Just another reason to be pissed at Grant.

  And at the moment I’m pretty freaking sure I’m beyond wasted. Like, way, way beyond wasted. My first clue that I am now, is the fact that the room I’m sitting in is a little fuzzy around the edges. Rooms aren’t supposed to be fuzzy. Right?

  I close one eye fully while squinting the other to try and bring everything back into focus. The floaty feeling in my head is actually pretty pleasant. I should have done this weeks ago. It’s hard to focus in on the hurt that has become such a large part of me, when I can’t even bring the couch into focus.

  There is still music, some heavy beat of a rap song, playing in the house even though the crowd of people has started to thin out substantially. I know Kelsey, my new found friend from my Introduction to Humanities class, is still roaming around here somewhere. Kelsey is fun and easy, and she has absolutely nothing to do with anyone from my normal circle of friends. Which is refreshing. She’s dating Bradley, one of the brothers from whatever frat house it is where we’re partying.

  I can’t keep them straight.

  Of course at the moment, I can’t even keep the room straight. For some reason I find that ridiculously funny. So now, not only am I drunk in the middle of a frat house, but I’m laughing like a moron while sitting by myself in the middle of the living room.

  Suddenly the couch dips and I can’t keep myself upright, tilting into the person who is suddenly sitting next to me. A guy, smelling like stale cigarette smoke and the cheap beer that had been in the kegs, has settled in on the couch next to me.

  Through the haze of alcohol he looks cute. Fuzzy, but cute.

  Maybe this is what I need. A one night stand to help further my quest to move on after Grant. Nothing else seems to be working. Not the ice cream I ate by the gallons. Which, okay, I hadn’t really expected the ice cream to make everything better, but I wouldn’t have been upset if it had worked out that way.

  Crying hadn’t helped, and really had just pissed me off.

  So maybe this is the distraction I need.

  I squint again to try and bring him further into focus. I think he’s a redhead, which nothing against redheads, but they had never really done anything for me in the past. His hair is cut close against his head though, so it’s really hard to tell if it’s red.

  And of course there is the fact that I’m drunk. Can’t forget that. His hair could be anything from neon pink to green and I probably wouldn’t be able to tell, or care really.

  He looks big, like strong big, with muscles upon muscles. Hmm, I never really found that attractive either, but look what dating exactly what I had always wanted had gotten me.

  Drunk at a frat party I’d attended with a girl I barely know, contemplating having a one night stand with an overly muscled red headed guy, whose face I couldn’t quite bring in to focus.

  Could my life suck any more at the moment?

  “Hi.”

  I hear the smirk in his voice when he responds. “Hey.”

  Has his hand already settled on my thigh? I glance down. Sure enough there is a large male hand sitting directly above my knees, fingers brushing up along the hem of my jean skirt. Frowning, I look back up to him forcing myself to try and focus just a little more. Instinctively I try to shift away from him, but his hand on my leg tightens.

  “Where you going, sweetheart?”

  I blink. “I, ah, um—”

  “I’ve rendered you speechless already.”

  Suddenly all the alcohol that was making me feel so floaty and free a moment ago, has settled like a stone in the pit of my stomach. I probably wouldn’t have felt threatened before I knew Delaney. But knowing what had happened to her makes the monsters of the world all too real.

  Finally I manage to spit out, “I need to go look for my friend.”

  “Who’s your friend? I can help you find them.”

  Crap. What was her name? Why can’t I remember her name? Those fingers inch just a little bit higher on my thigh, and whatever hope of coherent thought I had is totally gone. I try to move again, but he’s still pretty insistent that I’m not going anywhere, his hand squeezing my skin.

  “Grace?”

  Oh thank Jesus. I turn my head at the sound of my name.

  “You ready?”

  It isn’t Kelsey, whose name I now have no problem remembering, who is standing behind me. I’m actually pretty surprised to find Jacob Ross standing there. How does he know my name? We’ve never even spoken to each other. The only reason I know who he is, is because it’s hard to be on campus and not know.

  Jacob had become starting quarterback for the CMU football team his freshman year. No small feat at a Division I school. And he’d been well on his way to a career in the NFL, until he’d come back earlier his junior year and walked away from football all together.

  No hesitation, no explanation. He’d walked away from an incredibly promising, incredibly lucrative career, like it was the easiest thing he’d ever done. Then he had staunchly refused all questions, interviews, or demands for answers. Whatever reason he had, and I’m sure it was a good one, he wasn’t planning on sharing it with anyone any time soon.

  None of which explained how he knew my name.

  “Ready?” I echo blankly.

  “To go, Grace.” He says patiently, coming to stand in front of where I sit on the couch. He reaches one hand out and without thought I drop mine inside of his. His fingers close around mine, and instantly they are wrapped in warmth. The hand on my thigh tightens for just a moment before releasing.

  “Sorry, Jake. I didn’t realize she was with you.”

  “Well she is.” His frost blue eyes don’t even flicker over to the guy sitting next to me on the couch. For some reason, even in my haze, I can bring every incredible feature of Jacob Ross into perfect view. Dark brown hair cropped short, the front tousled slightly, a slight dusting of whiskers along his jaw, just enough of a hint to make a person, me in particular, wonder what it would feel like to have it scrape along their skin.

  He’s tall, crossing well over six feet I’m sure, and lean with an athlete’s body that is obviously very well taken care of. His biceps stretch the edge of his shirt sleeve, causing it to pull tight to the point that it looks strained when he shifts his arms the least little bit. The shirt is a dark blue, a stark contrast against the light blue of his eyes, and is paired with a pair of loose dark washed jeans.

  He’s gorgeous.

  And he knows my name.

  My body takes an interest in a way it hasn’t to anyone since Grant had walked away four months ago.

  “Lucky guy.” The red head mutters, but he moves away without touching me again.

  My hand is still tucked neatly in his. I have no urge to pull it free, and he isn’t letting it go. He tugs on it gently and pulls me up to my feet. Of course I stumble. I’m pretty sure I have half a keg of really gross beer rolling through my veins instead of blood.

  “Whoa. You all right?”

  “I, ah, maybe?”

  He chuckles, “Maybe? You aren’t sure?”

  “I don’t know where my ride is.” I say slowly, carefully enunciating each word to make sure I’m saying them correctly. He drops my hand now, but it still feels like he is touching me the way I have little shivers of heat running up my arm. I rub the palm of my hand against my jean skirt, trying to wipe the feeling off. He’s watching me in amusement.

  “You came in with Kelsey, right? She passed out upstairs about three hours ago. She won’t be taking you home anytime soon.”

  “Fuck.” I groan. “Fuck. That means I’m going to have to call my brothers. Fuckity, fuck, fuck, fuck.”

  One brown brow arches above those frosty blue eyes. “That’s some colorful language.”

  I roll my eyes. “You’d be cussing to if you had to call my brothers to come pick you up because you were drunk. They are going to lecture me.” Groaning I add, “Endlessly
.”

  “I can take you home.”

  “Oh, that’s nice of you, but I can’t go home either. I live with my brother’s girlfriend, and I’m pretty sure he’s there, so that won’t work. I was supposed to stay with Kelsey at the sorority house tonight.”

  I feel his eyes moving over me like a physical touch against my skin. Suddenly I feel ridiculously exposed in my short jean skirt and red tank top.

  “You can stay with me.”

  “I’m sorry, what?”

  The right side of his mouth is kicked up in a smile, with a small dimple just barely visible in his cheek. The fact that I’m imagining leaning over and licking that dimple is crazy. And distracting. Had he really just said what I thought he said? “Stay with you?”

  His large shoulders move up and down in a shrug. “Sure. I’ve got a room upstairs.” He laughs at the look on my face. “Totally innocent, I swear,” He says holding up his hands. “I can sleep on the floor. I won’t touch you at all.”

  I contemplate the offer while I watch him watching me. I can’t believe I’m actually considering this, and before I can fully process all the reasons this isn’t a good idea I hear myself saying, “I just want to clarify that I would never agree to this if I was sober. Or not terrified of what my brothers are going to say or do should they see me drunk.”

  “Duly noted.”

  “I’ve never been drunk before.”

  “Okay.”

  “I’m not going to sleep with you.”

  “I just told you I was going to sleep on the floor. Not that I wanted to sleep with you.” He’s wrapped his hand around my elbow, and is guiding me out of the fuzzy living room. I trip over my own feet, but he steadies me easily and seconds later we’re moving up the stairs. I feel like he’s touching my entire body, not just cupping my elbow. There’s a flutter of awareness dancing across my skin like electricity, and I’m suddenly not only having trouble walking, but pulling in steady breaths as well.

  “But I’m pretty sure you were contemplating sleeping with James, so the fact that you won’t sleep with me hurts my feelings.”

  “James?” I frown. What the hell was he talking about? “Who?”

  “Ouch.” He says with a laugh. We’ve reached the top of the stairs and he’s leading me down a long hallway. “Let’s keep that between the two of us, I don’t think his ego can stand the hit. Here we go.”

  He opens one of the doors at the end of the hall. It’s a small room, with a full size bed in one corner, a desk in the other, and a dresser tucked up next to the closet.

  There are no decorations adorning the walls. Unlike my room which is a montage of pictures from basically every moment of my life. It does sport its own bathroom, which is nice. He walks me over to the bed and I gratefully drop down on the dark brown comforter. The room has started to spin, just a little, and standing on my feet doesn’t seem entirely safe at the moment.

  I jump when something lands on my stomach. I lift up my hands to find I’m holding a T-shirt, obviously one of his. I look at it blankly.

  “Unless you want to sleep in your skirt.”

  I look back up to him. “I’m not having sex with you.”

  “So you keep saying.”

  “Do I?”

  Laughing he reaches one hand up and over his shoulder, grabbing the fabric of his T-shirt at the back of his neck and then yanking the shirt over his head. My mouth goes dry.

  Dear Lord in Heaven.

  He.

  Is.

  Beautiful.

  “If I didn’t know you were drunk off your cute little ass, I might be offended.”

  “What?”

  “Never mind,” He says with another laugh. Am I supposed to be holding a conversation? So isn’t happening. He should be in a freaking Bowflex commercial. Slowly I force myself to come back to the conversation. “Did you just call my ass cute?”

  Shaking his head he grabs something out of his dresser. “I’m going to go in the bathroom and get changed. You have about five minutes before I come back in, whether you’re dressed or not. Think you can handle getting changed on your own?”

  “Possibly.”

  “Yell if you have trouble.”

  He disappears into the bathroom, and the still drunk part of my brain tells me that I should yell, even though I’m having no trouble. I’d been all about sleeping with the redhead, but for some reason using Jacob Ross as a coping mechanism just doesn’t sound as appealing.

  Well, not as appealing may not be the right statement. It sounds totally appealing to lose myself in Jacob. Just not as a tool to forget Grant.

  And all this thinking is hurting my brain, and not getting my clothes changed before he comes back into the room. I slip the shirt right over my tank top, and then wiggle out of my skirt, laying it somewhat haphazardly on top of my black sandals next to the bed.

  I pull the covers up and over my body and am suddenly completely surrounded by the woodsy, one hundred percent smell of male. Closing my eyes I inhale deeply.

  “Are you sniffing my sheets?”

  I wince at being caught. “Umm, no?”

  “I would have changed them had I known I was going to let some random chick sleep in my bed.”

  “I feel really bad, kicking you out of your bed. You’re being weirdly nice,” I say frowning. “You don’t know either of my brothers do you?”

  Jacob reaches into the small closet in the far corner of the room, pulling out a dark green blanket. He drops it on the floor, moving silently across the room toward the bed. Heat pools low in my belly as he stops next to the bed, and for a second I think he’s going to crawl in next to me. And I think I’m going to let him. Instead he stretches across me grabbing the second pillow off the bed before stepping back.

  Disappointment dances through me.

  “No, which is probably a good thing, since I’m pretty sure they’d want to kick my ass if they knew what I was thinking about their sister right now.”

  That makes me paused, because hello now I have very X-rated thoughts racing through my head. “What are you thinking?”

  “That I hate the fact that my mama taught me to be a gentleman. Go to bed, Grace, before I forget how I was raised.”

  Chapter Three

  “Oh my God.”

  My mouth feels like it is full of cotton, and my head feels like there is a drum corps practicing cadences inside of it. It’s hard to remember the floaty feeling from the night before when I want to stab myself in the eye and put myself out of my misery.

  “Drink this.”

  Opening my eyes, a shock of pain sears through my brain at the sudden invasion of light. Staring at the absolutely gorgeous face of Jacob, who somehow only looks better first thing in the morning, everything from the previous night comes rushing back to me.

  I had told him I wouldn’t have sex with him. Multiple times.

  I can tell he’s trying not to laugh at me as he holds out a glass of water and a couple of Tylenol. I sit up in the bed, taking both in my hands while desperately trying not to imagine what I must look like.

  I’ve been growing out my pixie-cut, so my black waves hang in a tangled mess around my head, stopping halfway down my neck. I know I didn’t wash my face last night, and as I had been at a frat party, my normal level of makeup had been taken up a notch so I’m sure I have raccoon eyes, and I know I have rocking morning breath. I can taste the disgustingness.

  “Drink it all. It will help.”

  “Will it put me out of my misery?”

  “No, but it will help you feel up to dealing with it.”

  I stare down at the glass of water. “Is it magical water?” I ask before tilting the glass up to my lips.

  “Sure, if that makes you feel better. I had it kissed by the fairies on my way up the stairs.”

  I choke on the drink I had taken, feeling some of it slide down my chin. I’m such a freaking mess, I want to cry. “You’re hilarious,” I say drily as I wipe away the water. Jacob sits down on
the edge of the bed next to my hips, a smile still titling up one corner of his mouth. “Drink your water, Grace. Take the pills. I’ll give you a couple of minutes to get yourself together before I run you home.”

  I stare at him. “Do we know each other?”

  “No.”

  “I didn’t think so.” I swallow the pills quickly while I watch him. “So how do you know my name?”

  The laughter dies out of his eyes. “We have a class together.”

  “We do? Which one?”

  “Intro to Humanities.”

  Huh. The same class I share with Kelsey who had brought me here. “I don’t remember seeing you there.”

  “I remember you.”

  Oh. Oh, my. The way he says it causes a shiver to run through my entire body. Studying his face, seeing the heat flaring in his eyes as he says the words, I’m speechless. He meets my gaze head-on. We stare at each other for a moment and there is suddenly a thick layer of tension in the room.

  I’m instantly reminded of the reaction I’d had to him last night. The same sense of utter awareness drapes over my body like a second skin, and I ball my free hand in my lap to keep myself from reaching out to touch him.

  Finally he leans away, standing up and moving across the room. “And that’s all the crazy stalker tendencies I’m going to share with you today. I’ll be back in a few minutes and then we can get you home.” He opens the door, pausing to turn and look at me again. “Wait, I’m not going to get my ass kicked by your brothers, am I?”

  I shake my head no, taking another long drink of water to keep from having to answer him. He watches me for another second before nodding his head and pivoting to head out the door. With the way my head is spinning I need to give myself another minute before trying to get out of bed; otherwise I’m risking some serious bodily harm.

  I will never, ever, drink that much again. Whatever alcohol induced reprieve I might have had last night wasn’t worth the pounding headache, and the utter shame I was currently feeling. I was in his clothes, in his bed. Worse, I had contemplated sleeping with a complete stranger.