Hope for Him (Hope Series Book #2) (19 page)

"Listen, Carrington, I can't speak for Erin, but I hold an enormous amount of guilt over what happened to Josh and what happened to you, too.  I am glad that Daddy is doing the right thing and taking care of Jack. I'm just not ready to be under his hand, yet. I spent eight years married to a man who lied and cheated on me and treated me like crap for no good reason at all. And I stayed with him because I was too afraid of what my father would say if I left him. Griffins don't get divorced."

Kayla shook her head in agreement. I forgot she was a Griffin, too. From the stories she told, her side of the family was nowhere as volatile as Josh's side of the family. How could two parts of the same family have such a different reality?

Mr. Griffin and Kayla's father were brothers. Mr. Griffin was ten years older than Kayla's dad was and he wasn't the oldest son. Kayla's father didn't have as much pressure on him as Mr. Griffin did growing up.

Josh told me how his mother almost got his father to give up his family responsibilities and travel the world playing the guitar. When it came right down to it, upon graduation he went to work for his father and never left. Mr. Griffin was stuck. Being with me gave Josh an out, but in the end, I guess the pressure got to him. And instead of being stuck, he ended it.

The history of the Griffin family would make an epic novel with six volumes of material. My little drama, the African American woman with the illegitimate biracial son, would take up maybe a page or two. 

When I reflected on the situation, it gave me an interesting perspective. Just a fraction of what I’ve endured is more than what most people experienced their whole life.

Mr. Griffin was different the first time I met him. I would feel better if those who had known him longer accepted his change in character. For all I knew, he turned into a saint once a decade and we happened to get lucky.

"I can't begin to understand what you guys have gone through all your life. It's probably easy for me to accept your father has changed because he allowed me to do all of this on my own terms and he can't hold anything over me, but I am asking you for Jack's sake and your kids’ sake to at least give him a try. Grandchildren are his thing. If you won't let him in as a father, let him be a grandfather to your kids." I reached out and touched Amanda's arm, and she nodded and took a sip of her wine.

Erin’s face dropped. My approach didn't quite work on her. She had no kids, but whatever Amanda decided, Erin would follow along. They asked more questions about Jack, but no other questions about Jackson and me. I was happy about that because I wasn't ready to discuss that with more Griffins. Since they had known Jackson longer than I had, I was sure they had opinions, but nothing I needed to hear. I needed to figure Jackson and I out for myself.

C
arrington Olivia Butler

Jackson and I spent a lot of time together, and our relationship moved forward—slowly, but forward. Besides our short makeout sessions, we pretty much acted the same as before he broke up with Tiffany. Only difference was I knew that when he went home at night, he wouldn't be going home to her.

Home every night, he did go. I enjoyed spending time with him and not feeling guilty, but I couldn't let go.  My mind wouldn't let me move on yet, and I wanted to scream. It unnerved me after hearing how Jackson had our life kind of planned out before, a plan that never had a chance. He saw it, too—we were stuck in the past, and I didn't think I could move forward until I faced it. Until we both faced it.

We met in the Student Union one night after Jackson finished an early practice.

"Jackson, I need to ask you a huge favor." His faced dropped. I pouted, missing his beautiful smile. Bring it back. "Well, I've been thinking about the Victim's Advocate thing, and I might have a better perspective if I went to the frat house."

The light in his eyes went away, and he sat back and crossed his arms across his chest. I needed to keep him with me. I reached out and squeezed his arm.

"Why do you want to go there?"

"I need to see if I'm really okay to talk about this, or if I'm just waiting for the bomb to drop. I feel safer doing it with you by my side."

"Carrington, I don't think this is a good idea."

"I know it's crazy, but I feel like I have to see it. Let's head in that direction, and if it's too weird, we won't go."

He released his crossed arms and exhaled. I grabbed his hand and held it to my chest. A little color returned to his face as I became aware of his hand touching my breast. The feeling was so comforting and so familiar. Lately, he seemed afraid to move any further; maybe this would help him too.

"Okay."

We headed toward the west side of campus, down fraternity row. Our steps slowed the closer we got to the house. The Phi Kappa Pi house sat on the middle of the block. It was the grandest of the fraternity houses, rich with money and tradition. It was Josh's fraternity, and Mr. Griffin's fraternity as well.

When we arrived at the house, the color had drained from Jackson's face, again. He seemed more hesitant about returning to the house than me.

I shook our clasped hands.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, it's weird, you know."

"Are we allowed to go in, even though you don't live here?"

"Yeah, technical I'm still in the fraternity; it's my house, too."

Brandon walked out the front door with two other guys when we made it to the porch. He blinked twice at us but regained his composure and greeted us.

"Hey, Carrington. What are you doing here?" He shook hands with Jackson. "J."

"Hey, B," Jackson said. "You mind if we look around the house for a minute?"

Brandon looked at me for reassurance, and I nodded my head.

"Sure. You guys want me to stick around?"

"No, it's okay. We won't bother anything. We want to see what you've done with the place."

"Okay. It's your house, too. You're always welcome. I'll see you in class, Carrington."

"Thanks, Brandon."

"Sure, no problem."

Brandon stepped off the porch and headed toward campus. Jackson headed toward the door and pulled me along with him. He seemed overanxious to get this over with.

We entered the foyer. The main living area had been painted and the kitchen off the back of the house opened into the living room and spilled out onto a deck with a barbecue pit in the backyard. The staircase on the left side of the foyer curved up to the second floor to the bedrooms. It was the only thing I recognized.

"So, here we are,” Jackson said.

"Yeah."

"You okay?" he asked.

"Yes, the place looks different."

"They remodeled most of it that summer."

"Let's go into the game room."

A few of Jackson's fraternity brothers greeted him as we wandered around the house, but none of them stopped us or inquired as to why we were here. I didn't recognize anyone, but I had the feeling they recognized me.

The game room was a long rectangular room with a loft along the back wall. The loft opened up onto the second floor and led to the bedrooms from the back of the house. During parties, students entered from the side door and the rest of the house was cut off unless a brother accompanied you. We headed up to the loft, and I stopped to look over the balcony. I didn't remember ever being in this room when it wasn't full of people.

My face felt hot remembering my first party at PKP. I had danced with and grinded on too many PKP brothers to count. Not my finest moment as a freshman.

"What about Josh's room?"

"I think they turned it into a gym."

I followed Jackson through the back door of the loft. More memories of my first time in the frat house came rushing back. The first night I stayed in the house, Jackson was the first person I saw at six am the next morning. He joked that I was allowed at least one walk of shame per semester.

I slowed down as we approached Josh's room.

"You sure you’re up for this."

"Yeah," I whispered. I coughed and said louder, "Yes. I'm fine."

We entered Josh's room, and I held my breath, expecting a dramatic impact to hit me in the face, but the only thing that hit me was the smell of sweat. The room didn't resemble Josh's room in the slightest. I didn't feel a thing. I didn't know if I was disappointed or what, but I wanted it to have an effect on me. Something I could feel to say that it happened and I was over it, but I felt nothing. Jackson blinked his eyes as he surveyed the room.

He faced me. "What’s wrong? You look weird."

"I don't know what I expected, but I don't feel anything." I squeezed his hand. "Do you?"

"It doesn't matter how I feel. It happened to you."

"I remember the look on your face that day when you kneeled down next to me and encouraged me to hold on. What happened to me in the room, it happened to you, too."

He tried to blink back tears, but this time a few escaped. "I don't want to get into this now. Not here."

"Let's go somewhere else."

"Come on." He walked out the room, but instead of heading back down the stairs, he knocked on the next door. No one answered and he tried the handle and it opened. He grabbed my hand and we walked into his old bedroom.

"You finally got me alone in your room," I said. Jackson furrowed his brow. "I'm sorry. Inappropriate joke."

He smirked and walked over to the window.

He pushed it open and crawled out on the ledge.

"Where are you going?" I stuck my head through the window and Jackson sat on the roof overlooking the back of the frat house.

I sat on the windowsill, swung my legs out, and scooted next to him. 

"This is so cool," I said.

"I loved coming out here. Especially when we threw a party. You could feel the music vibrating through the roof."

"How many girls have you brought out here?" I nudged him, and his real smile almost returned. 

“I reserved this spot for only the special girls.”

“So, how many?”

“Counting you?”

“Yeah.”

“One.”

"Jackson."

"That night ... at the party, I was going to lure you into my room that night, and when you thought I was like every other guy wanting to get you in my bed, I was going to bring you out here to look at the stars. And I was going to kiss you and you would be so blown away—"

"I would have slept with you anyway."

"Yeah, something like that." He smiled but turned his head away.

"Hey, Jackson."

"Yeah."

I placed my hand on his cheek and leaned in. I licked my lips before they touched his. They were so warm, and it sent a wave of energy through my body. I ran my hand down to his neck to pull him closer. I felt his arm wrap around my waist, and he pressed his lips firmly to mine. We separate and I inhaled, which drew him closer. His open mouth landed back on mine. His tongue licked my bottom lip and entered my mouth, and my tongue couldn't wait for contact.

When they touched, I forgot we were sitting on the roof and I lifted up to get closer to him, I slipped. "Whoa."

He caught me around the waist and lifted me back up to sit on his lap.

"I got you."

I giggled as I wrapped my arms around his neck and we made out on the rooftop like normal college students.

God, it feels good to pretend to be normal.

#

J
ackson Latre Mitchell

The pitch on the roof wasn't that steep, but the metaphor wasn't lost on me. She wasn't about to go over the edge to her death, but I wasn't about to let her slip away from me. Not this time.

She wrapped her arms around my neck and settled into my arms. I held her close to my chest and turned her face up to mine. I pushed her hair off her face and leaned over and kissed her cheek and her nose and her other cheek. Her lips curled into a smile, and I couldn't resist, I had to kiss those beautiful lips.

Carrington's lips asked to be kissed. They were soft and smooth and defined with no assistance. I only ever saw her wear lip-gloss. These lips were created for me. Her body was made for me. She responded to my every touch. When my lips found hers, her heart raced. It thumped against my chest. Her arms tensed around my neck, she sighed, and I pulled her closer.

My hand went from rubbing her cheek to sliding down her neck. It rested on her chest; it had found its home. My other hand worked its way down her back and around her waist. They had an agenda, and I had no control over them. They touched and felt every place they had access to and would have been more daring if we weren't perched on top of the roof.

My lips were a bit more cautious, kissing her soft at first and them firm, taking her lead. I wanted her to react to me and let me know how comfortable she was with what we were doing and how fast we were going.

When we were together before, it was as mutual of a hook up as I had ever had. We both knew what we wanted, and we worked together to get what we needed from each other, but so much had changed and the stakes were so much lower back then. It was so long ago, yet I remembered every moment of it.

My mind slipped back into the past, and I stopped kissing her.

"Hey. You still with me?" she asked.

"Yeah, sorry."

"Am I boring you?" She leaned back and narrowed her eyes. I leaned in and kissed her below her cute ear before I pressed myself into her.

"Do I feel like I'm bored?"

She leaned in further, and I moaned. She smiled and released the pressure a bit. I felt her hip against me, and I liked the way it felt.

"No, you don't, but why is this so much harder than before?"

I blinked and shifted her off my lap. She scooted back next to me and crossed her legs, staring out into the backyard. She read my mind; I hated what I was thinking and feeling.

"I'm happy it’s not just me," I said.

"Not just you. We can't pretend like we did before."

Her arms were crossed in front of her chest, and she leaned over and rested them on her knees. I scooted closer to her so our hips touched. I leaned over, kissed her shoulder, and wrapped my arm around her waist. She sighed.