The XOXO New Adult Collection: 16 Full Length New Adult Stories (199 page)

“Gina?”

No answer.

I slid out of bed, pulled on my shorts and checked the bathroom, then the living room.

She was gone.

I scanned the table for a note, but the only thing on the table was Rip, asleep. I checked my phone. Nothing.

I punched in her number and got her voicemail.

I hung up and tossed the phone back on the table. It clattered next to Rip and he jumped, ears flattened.

What the hell?

I stalked into the kitchen and pulled a glass from the cupboard. I stood at the sink and filled it, then downed it in one quick swallow. I set the cup down and braced my hands on the counter and closed my eyes and thought about the previous night.

I hadn't planned it. I hadn't planned anything. Hell, I hadn't even known that Gina was coming over. I remembered my surprise when I opened the door, seeing her holding the twelve pack of beer. More surprise when she'd told me what she had planned for the evening.

I'd help up my end of the bargain. Spilled everything about Jay, about that day at Mavericks. And she'd figured it all out; figured out how it had made me feel, why it haunted me every fucking day of my life. She'd followed me out to the beach and watched me stare at the water. And even though she hadn't said anything, I knew she knew exactly what I was thinking about. Jay. Wishing I could bring him back, wishing he would walk right out of the ocean, like he'd just played the biggest and best practical joke he could think of.

And she'd known something else, too; the fact that I blamed myself for his death. I'd never said it out loud to anyone but it had always been there, since that fucking day in the water. I saw myself dragging him to shore. Like a movie in slow-motion, I could see it all, every single detail. The grains of sand clinging to his cheeks. The cut above his right eye. The dull, unseeing green eyes. It was there, staring me in the face, mocking me, accusing me.

I'd killed Jay. No one else.

But Gina wouldn't let me take the blame. And when I wouldn't listen, when I'd tried to tune her out, to argue with her and tell her she was wrong, she'd used the one thing she knew I couldn't say no to. She'd kissed me.

And then everything had exploded. Tumbling to the sand, her mouth and hands just as eager as mine. I placed my hands on the counter. I'd told her we needed to stop. I remembered it vividly. And I would have. But she'd said no. She'd wanted it – wanted me – just as much as I'd wanted her. She'd directed me into the shower, then into bed. Even then, she'd taken charge, rolling on top of me, finishing what we'd started. And then she'd fallen asleep, her arms wrapped around me, her head on my chest. I felt a twinge of emotion flicker inside of me, something I couldn't identify. Something I didn't want to identify.

So what the fuck had happened between falling asleep together and waking up alone?

I knew exactly what had happened.

She'd bailed.

I turned to leave the kitchen but stopped. There was nowhere to go. I glanced at the living room. Our empty beer bottles littered the top of the coffee table. I looked toward the bathroom and felt my pulse quicken as I remembered the time we'd spent together in the shower. I stole a quick glance toward my bedroom. More memories. Every single room would remind me of Gina. I couldn't even go outside, knowing I'd look at the shore and think only of her launching herself at me, kissing me, touching me.

There was one room left, one room she hadn't been in, a room that held no trace of her.

Jay's.

A sharp pain stabbed at my gut. I couldn't bring myself to go in there. Not now. Not ever.

So I stayed in the kitchen, the only neutral room in the house. And I thought some more about Gina and what had happened. Had I been some sort of one night stand for her? Like, she'd gotten drunk and realized she was horny and just needed to hook up?

I dismissed that idea. Gina was professional, through and through. I thought back to the kiss in the driveway. She'd ripped me a new one for that and it had only been a kiss. She'd made it clear that we needed to maintain a professional relationship, and a professional relationship only.

So maybe it was some sort of karmic payback for all the stupid shit I'd pulled with girls over the years. Maybe she'd been a little drunk and had gotten carried away and then regretted it in the morning. That would certainly explain why she'd left so early, without waking me up. And maybe this was the Universe's way of getting back at me for all the times I'd done that over the years. Girls whose names I couldn't remember, hotel rooms and apartments I'd slipped out of at the crack of dawn so that I could avoid awkward conversation.

I shook my head. I'd always left a note. A text. I never just upped and left. But maybe it didn't matter. Maybe I'd left a string of chicks feeling the way I was feeling right at that moment.

Pissed off and more than a little hurt.

I'd wanted to wake up with Gina. I threw my head back and closed my eyes. There had been something between us, a different kind of spark. I knew what sex felt like. I pictured the night with Ch in the hotel room. And the other girl, the girl that had almost become a Kellen statistic at Duke's. I liked sex, being with women, finding the release. I'd never lied to any of them about what was happening or what I expected...or what the aftermath would be like. I was used to having sex just for the sake of having sex. It was what I'd gotten used to, what I expected.

Sex with Gina was nothing like what I expected. It had been explosive. Mind blowing. And that didn't just happen because you were attracted to someone.

There had to be more.

And I thought there was.

I closed my eyes and swallowed.

But maybe she didn't.

THIRTY THREE

Kellen

It was two weeks before I saw Gina again. Two fucking weeks.

She wouldn't return my calls or texts the morning after we slept together. Or the next day. Or the day after that. On day four, I finally got pissed off enough to call Heath. I left a voicemail with him, telling him that he better find her and get her on the phone or all bets were off. True to his nature in worrying about me being his meal ticket, he got back to me forty-five minutes later.

“Uh, she's not going to be working with you anymore,” he said over the phone.

“What?”

“You'll have a new rep,” he said quickly. “Some guy by the name of Trevor—”

I cut him off. “I don't want Trevor. I want Gina.”

“Well, she's apparently been reassigned to something else by her company.”

“Bullshit.”

“Look, Kellen, that's what I was told. I think...”

I didn't hear what he thought because I didn't give a shit. I hung up on him and called Bruce Wyckoff.

“What the fuck is going on, Bruce?” I asked. “Why the hell am I getting some new publicity rep?”

There was a slight pause, “I don't know, Kellen,” he finally said. “I just got a call about an hour ago. They said your rep was being moved to a different project. But they're assigning you their best guy for the next couple of weeks.”

“I don't want their best guy,” I yelled. “I want her.”

“Did something happen?” he asked. “Between the two of you? Was she pissed off at something you did? Because...”

“She's not pissed off,” I said angrily. But that was a lie. I didn't know what the fuck she was feeling because she wouldn't return my calls. “But she won't call me back. I've done everything she asked, Bruce. Everything. And now she's...being assigned to something else? It's all bullshit. I wanna know why.”

“I don't think you have a choice, bro,” Bruce said. “I'll see what I can find out. But the suspension still stands. This new guy they're putting with you should be there later today and he'll lay out—”

“I'm not doing shit,” I said. “I'm not doing shit without her.”

“Kellen, come on. You can't just...”

“Watch me, Bruce,” I said. “I'm not doing shit.” I hung up.

And for two weeks, I was true to my word.

I didn't do shit.

Trevor Raymond came to my house the same day I'd talked to Heath and Bruce. He apologized for having to take over for Gina, but assured me we'd be able to work just fine.

I told him he could go fuck himself.

He seemed ready for that, though, and I had to give him credit. He'd tried hard. He'd let me swear at him, give him the silent treatment, totally ignore him and he never lost his cool. He was pretty good.

But I was angry. And hurt. I'd gone through every scenario in my head, everything I could think of to try and explain why she'd done what she did. And every time, I came up empty-handed. I was still no closer to figuring out what the hell had happened that morning, what had sent her scurrying off like some scared little mouse, than I had been two weeks ago.

So I took it out on Trevor. I was an asshole. I'd alternate between chewing him out and giving him the silent treatment. And he just took it, calling me every day with events he had lined up for me.

I refused to do any of them.

No more public speaking.

No more charity events.

No more kids camps.

Anything he said he was going to set up, I turned down. And he'd been patient, never showing me any anger, never getting on me, just calling the next day with the newest opportunity.

“Kellen,” he said one day after two weeks of banging his head against a wall. It was late afternoon and he was sitting on my couch, a manila folder spread out on the coffee table. His brown hair was buzzed short; it looked like he'd just gone in to the barber that morning. “What's it gonna take to get you to work with me?”

“The same thing I've been telling you for the past two weeks,” I said. “I want to talk to Gina. In person. Get me a conversation with her. Just one, in person. After that, I'll jump through any fucking hoop you hold out there.”

“She can't...”

“You asked what it was gonna take.” I stood up and made my way to the patio, leaving him in the living room. “That's it. That's what it's gonna take. Until then?” I shrugged. “We're just gonna keep repeating what we've been doing for two weeks, bro.”

I left him then and headed out to the water, spending the next two hours taking out my frustration on the four foot swells just outside of my house.

Trevor wasn't waiting for me when I finally got out of the water.

But Gina was.

“What the fuck are you doing?” she asked, her arms folded across her chest, her eyes hidden behind mirrored sunglasses.

I felt my stomach jump but stayed calm as I unstrapped the velcro leash from my ankle.

She was there. Two fucking weeks later and she was there. Back on the beach, just a few steps from where we'd stood that night. And she was pissed.

“Don't you mean good morning?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

“It's the middle of the afternoon.”

“Oh, I'm sorry,” I said, staring at her. “I thought we were picking up where we left off.”

She stared at me for a long moment, a muscle in her jaw twitching. Finally, she said, “Fair enough.”

“Is it?” I asked, running a hand over my face, shaking the water out of my hair. “Because I've got a few more if that one wasn't fair.”

She spread her arms out wide. “Here I am. Take all the shots you want at me.”

“No thanks,” I said, walking past her.

“Then what the hell am I doing here, Kellen?”

“Great fucking question, Gina. What the hell are you doing here?”

“Trevor said the only way you would agree to do anything is if you could talk to me,” she said. “So here I am. Talk away.”

I threw my board on the ground and spun back around toward her. “Why the fuck did you leave me? I woke up and there was nothing there but sheets. Then you won't call me back. Then I get Trevor. What the fuck is going on, Gina?”

She started to say something, but I kept going.

“You don't even give me the courtesy of a phone call. A note. Nothing. Wanna know something, sweetheart? I never stooped that low. Not ever.”

She opened her mouth again but I wasn't finished.

“And I don't for a minute believe any of this bullshit about you being assigned to another project. I know that's horseshit. So what is this? Some sort of fucked up attempt to give me a taste of my own medicine from back in the day?” I threw my hands up. “Explain it to me because I really don't get it.”

She pushed her glasses up on her head. “You need to get on board with Trevor. He's got some—”

“Fuck off,” I said, picking up my board and walking toward my house.

“Kellen!”

I ignored her and kept going, my feet hitting the sand so hard it hurt. I heard her huffing and puffing behind me as she tried to jog in the sand, but I didn't stop.

“Listen to me,” she called.

“Why?” I asked, still walking. “Did you have something to say? You haven't said shit for two weeks.”

I reached my patio, stepped over the wall and set the board in the corner.

“Stop,” she said, stepping over the wall and trying to catch her breath. “Just stop and listen.”

I stood there, still wet from the ocean, staring at her.

She took a deep breath. “I'm sorry.”

“Well, that makes it all better. Thanks a lot.”

She frowned. “Let me talk.” She waited, like she was trying to think of what to say. “I'm sorry. For leaving. And for not calling. I...I didn't know what to do.”

I didn't know what I wanted to hear from her, but she wasn't making me feel any better.

“I freaked out a little bit,” she said, sitting down on the wall. “Had nothing to do with you. It was me.”

“That's original.”

“That's the truth,” she said, glancing at me. “We were working together. Sleeping with you was wrong.”

I bit my tongue.

“Not wrong in that it wasn't great,” she said, her voice faltering a bit. “Because it was.” She paused, cleared her throat. “But wrong because it was unprofessional. I made a really, really bad decision and I couldn't take it back. There's no going back from something like that.”

“Who said we had to go back?”

She shook her head. “There's nowhere else for us to go, Kellen.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” I took a deep breath. “Look, if we can't work together, we can't work together. I'll work with Trevor. No questions asked. I'll do whatever the hell he wants.”