Hope for Her (Hope #1) Read online

  "That tickles," she said, and her giggles made me hard.

  "God you're beautiful."

  I watched her react to the way I touched her and studied her responses. I made a mental note of what she liked. I wanted to make her happy.

  When I entered her, she moaned my name. It was the most amazing sound. She breathed in and held her breath, staring into my eyes and we exhaled together, in sync. I never felt closer to her…to anyone ever. When we finished, I collapsed next to her and wrapped her in my arms. She let go of one last breath and snuggled up to me. We slept in each other’s arms for the rest of the night and into the morning.

  At this moment in time, I allowed myself to think everything was perfect.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Carrington Olivia Butler

  Students were returning early from winter break. The whole student body wanted to celebrate the national championship together on our home turf. After spending the night with Josh, he dropped me off at the dorm. I unpacked, showered, and lay down, hoping to get some rest. The idea of reuniting with Josh had ended up way more stressful than the actual encounter. We enjoyed each other for the first time since before Thanksgiving.

  When I woke up, I stood up too fast, clutched the side of the bed, and sat back down. When I fell asleep, it was light outside, but now it was dark. I shuffled to the bathroom and thought about getting ready, but I needed more sleep. I crawled back into bed.

  My roommates woke me when they returned a couple of hours later with tales of their adventures in New Orleans.

  We spent the rest of the night catching up. Josh called sometime in the night, but my phone stayed off. I woke the next morning with him banging on my door.

  "Carrington," he yelled through the door. I jumped out of bed hoping to reach him before he woke up my roommates.

  "What?" I said. I yanked open the door and he stood there with a basket of food and flowers.

  "Hey, you didn't answer your phone, so I thought I'd come by."

  "What time is it?"

  "Eight thirty."

  He looked so proud and happy. I wanted to crush him but stopped myself.

  "This couldn't wait until a more reasonable hour. We're still on vacation, remember?"

  "I know, but we have to go it now. Go get dress." He shoved the flowers in my hand, garnet colored roses. I smelled them and smiled as I walked back into my room to get dressed.

  Josh waited for me in the lounge. He hung up his phone when I approached.

  "Hey, you look nice," he said and leaned over to kiss me.

  "Where are we going?"

  "Follow me."

  We headed down the elevator and out the front door. We walked across campus, and several students were heading in our same direction. They all seemed half asleep, but excited.

  We approached Doak Campbell stadium and entered the gate.

  The impressive red brick structure sat on the edge of campus. It never failed to take my breath away. We headed down toward the field and joined the other students spread out all over, facing the big screen in the north end zone.

  Josh greeted and talked to a few of the guys as we maneuvered through the field. Jackson entered the field along with his teammates. He had a confident swagger and a huge grin plastered on his face. He was the number one player in college football. Although it was fifty degrees outside, I started to sweat watching him enjoy his moment as he made his way over to Josh and me.

  "Freaking National Champion MVP. Seriously can you do anything wrong?" Josh asked as he and Jackson hugged.

  "Oh, come on, man. I do what I got to do," Jackson said and turned to me. "Carrington, I didn't know you were back on campus. It’s good to see you."

  He bent down to hug me, and I stood on my toes to hug him back. It was our first contact in a long time and it was so freakin’ hard to let go. I thought I would feel it in the way he held me, our New Year’s Eve conversation, but I felt nothing different. As he let go, he squeezed my arm and I looked up and he winked at me and my stomach did flip flops. I looked away before Josh realized.

  Jackson let go and turned back to Josh.

  "Let's grab a seat." We followed Jackson into the center of the field, spread out blankets and sat down. Josh passed out the sandwiches and other snacks as the game on the big screen started.

  I watched the game, but my senses were tuned to and aware of Jackson. When he spoke to someone my ears perked up. When he reached behind me to grab something out of the cooler, I smelled him. His hair tousled when the breeze blew and we all bundled under the same blankets and the heat from his body made my head spin.

  When he cheered himself and laughed, I laughed along with him, caught up in the silliness of watching himself on film.

  At one point, Josh left.

  "Jackson—" I scooted over to him in order for him to hear me. "Where's Josh?"

  "I don't know."

  "Congratulations." I wanted to tell him so much, gush over him, brag on him. Let him know I was proud of him. But congratulations was all I could mutter.

  "Thanks," he said as he rubbed my arm with the back of his hand. The simple gesture sent a shockwave through my body, but it tore me up inside because it confirmed what I didn’t want to admit. I wanted Jackson. I felt a little better when I looked at him again and realized that he wanted me, too.

  "Hey baby," Josh returned and pulled me out of my mind. He sat down and wrapped his arms around me. I leaned back into him, and I caught Jackson watching us. His light blue eyes darkened, and he turned away.

  The game ended, but the party continued. Josh walked me back to my dorm, and we made plans to meet up at the frat house later. They planned a special dinner for Jackson, brothers only, and it would culminate into another epic party, PKP style.

  As soon as I hit my bed, I fell asleep and slept for the rest of the day. My roommates shook me to wake me up.

  "You slept all day again," Melinda said.

  "Are you okay? You don't look very well," Jessica said.

  "I'm fine. Getting over a cold," I said. I crawled out of bed and headed to the bathroom. I passed my reflection in the mirror and stopped. A puffy face stared back at me. I touched my waist and noticed a layer of fat under my skin, I turned and my ass looked the same, but standing square to the mirror, I appeared wider.

  "Hey, have I gained some weight," I said pinching my cheeks.

  "A little, but you were so skinny anyway."

  I lifted up my shirt, patted it and pinched it, again.

  A weird wave of nauseous came over me, and I ran to the toilet and threw up my breakfast. My brain started flipping back, thumbing through my mental calendar.

  I gasped and slapped my hand over my mouth.

  When is the last time I had my period?

  #

  When I stopped throwing up, I grabbed my coat and headed over to the frat house to find Josh.

  This can't be happening.

  Besides the first time, we always used protection. That was two and a half months ago.

  More and more students were arriving back on campus and a party broke out in every frat house I passed. It was late—ten o'clock. Their dinner ended at eight, and I thought Josh would have checked on me, but the last time we spoke was when he dropped me back off at my dorm this morning.

  When I arrived at the frat house, it was filled with two hundred of their closest friends. It reminded me of the first party of the year.

  It took me a moment to get through the door and longer to find Josh. He stood on the balcony telling an animated story, laughing and joking with the people around him. I stood back and watched him. His hair stood out on end and he appeared sweaty and wrinkled. He wore the same clothes as he did this morning, not his usual put together self. I spotted Jackson, too. He sat on the edge of the group; his brow furrowed and his arms crossed over his chest.

  He hovered around Josh, watching him like a mother seeing her child for the first time in a new light.

  I waited for either of th
em to acknowledge me, but Jackson focused on Josh and Josh focused on entertaining, like a court jester.

  "No, so the guy, it had to be her boyfriend, he was wasted, totally gone, and the chick stood there paying for her food with a wad of dollar bills rolled up. He grabbed the money and like stood over her like this,” Josh squatted down and held his hand out, “and she just stared down at him, daring him to do it.”

  “He didn’t.”

  “He did.”

  "Making it rain," the guy in the crowd said.

  "You know it."

  "You're lying."

  "No, I swear, he did it. In front of the whole restaurant."

  "Ohhhhhh."

  The crowd around Josh erupted in laughter and high-fives. The story made no sense. It was the kind of story drunk people told other drunk people.

  Josh held a drink in his hand. He spoke and waved his hands around like a seasoned drunk teetering on the edge of control.

  He slurred his words, but spoke clear, if not a little animated. He interacted and held court with these people, and they ate it up. Where every day Josh preferred the sidelines, watching the world, drunk Josh was the life of the party.

  I stood watching Josh but grew bored quick.

  I wandered around the frat house and back into the living room. I made my way back upstairs to Josh's room. On the stairs, I ran into Jackson.

  "Hey, when did you get here?" he said. He stood at a measured length.

  "A few minutes ago."

  "I think Josh is downstairs. You want me to get him for you."

  "No, I saw him." I held on to the banister because another wave of nausea hit me. Not from the baby, but from the realization everything in my life was about to change. "When did Josh start drinking?"

  "Oh, I think he's only had a few today."

  "That's not what I mean, and you know it," I said, and Jackson's eyes opened wide. I didn't expect to take my anger and disappointment out on him, but I needed to take it out on someone.

  "That's why he didn't come to see me, isn't it? He started drinking again?" It all started to make sense.

  "Carrington, I ..." Jackson started, but averted his eyes. "You need to talk to Josh."

  "Jackson, why didn't you tell me?" I grabbed his arm.

  "It's not my secret to tell, Carrington. It still isn't."

  I covered my face with my hands, trying to control my emotions. If the tears started, they would not stop. I stepped back and turned, but Jackson reached out and touched my arm. He wrapped his arms around my waist.

  Hours ago, I realized how much I wanted to be with him, but if I was pregnant, it seemed to seal the deal. We would never have our chance together. I tried to push away, but his strong arms wouldn't budge, and I stood there with tears rolling down my cheeks, falling on his broad chest. I leaned into him, listening to his heartbeat through his shirt, steady and strong and so comforting. When I realized this was our second hug of the day, I sobbed deep in my gut and he held me tighter.

  When my tears subsided, Jackson held me at arm’s length, and I missed his arms around me.

  "You okay?"

  "No, not really."

  "You need to talk to Josh, but not tonight. Let me take you home."

  We headed out the back door of the frat house. I wanted Jackson to put his arms around me. Shield me from the cold as well as the pain and heartbreak I felt nagging at the center of my heart. He walked next to me with his hands in his pocket. Our arms brushed against each other, and even that minor contact woke my senses. I could smell him, feel him, and imagine what he tasted like.

  Stop it, Carrington.

  "Is that why he got kicked out of U of F? Because of his drinking?" I asked.

  "Yeah."

  "What happened?"

  "I don’t know the whole story, but he got drunk at a party and got in a fight with a couple of students including the president’s son. He got arrested, but they worked that out."

  "His father."

  "Yeah."

  "Does this have to do with his mother?"

  "Yes and no. I mean, he started drinking in high school, but it was before his mother died."

  "His mom was an alcoholic."

  "I guess he did what he saw. I think he wants to get better. Especially since meeting you. Carrington, he loves you so much."

  I stopped in the middle of the path. Jackson turned back.

  "That's so unfair."

  "What?"

  "To put that on me."

  "I didn't mean it like that. I meant ..." Jackson rubbed his forehead.

  I grabbed his arm.

  "What is it? Do you feel guilty for not being there for him before. You looked after him in high school and he told me how you guys grew apart because you were into football and even though you want to take care of him now, you can't so you’re passing him off on me in some big sacrificial move. Jackson, that's not fair. It's not my job to save Josh." Jackson looked away. I reached up and grabbed his chin and made him look at me. Tears formed at the corner of his eyes. “It's not your job to save him, either."

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Joshua Elijah Griffin, IV

  I woke up with my second hangover in two weeks. I remembered the first drink, but not the last. I ended up in my own bed with no bruised or broken bones, so a good night.

  I checked my phone and saw a text message from Carrington. It was the first time I realized she never showed up last night.

  Carrington: Meet me in the student union at 10:00 am.

  I rolled over and checked the clock; it read nine thirty am. I showered, got dressed, and made my way to the student union with a minute to spare. Carrington sat inside by the window. I watched her as I approached.

  She played with her hair, twisting it around her finger as she read something on her laptop. Her full cheeks and smooth skin appeared brighter, her posture relaxed and calm. She found me staring at her and her body stiffened. Her face showed all sorts of concern, and I fought the urge to run away.

  I entered the student union and pointed to the coffee shop and mouthed if she wanted something.

  She shook her head and went back to studying her laptop.

  I got a large coffee and approached her table.

  She closed the laptop as I got close.

  I leaned over, and her body straightened when my lips touched her cheek.

  "Hey baby." I sat across from her.

  "Hi."

  I took a sip of my coffee. "I missed you last night. What happen?"

  "I was really tired. How was the party?"

  "It was good. We had fun." I took another sip and watched her fidget. "Are you okay? You seem kind of tired a lot lately."

  "Yeah, well, that's why I asked you to meet me here. I wanted to talk to you about that."

  "Are you sick?"

  "No, I think I'm pregnant."

  I heard what she said when she said it, but I think my brain took longer to process it. Everything started moving in slow motion, and I heard the sound of my heart beating in my ears. Along with my fathers voice calling Carrington a gold digger. I took in a deep breath and let it out in one long stream of air. I sounded like a freight train.

  When I returned to reality, Carrington was staring at me. Waiting for me to say something.

  "Are you sure?" I asked.

  "No, I want to go to student health and get a test."

  "Okay."

  "And I want you to go with me," she said, her cadence slowed as if speaking to a child.

  "Oh yeah, of course." I sipped my coffee.

  "To avoid any of those weird what is she going to do conversations, I want to let you know that I don’t expect anything from you, but I’m going to have it and keep it."

  "Really?"

  "Yeah, you sound surprised."

  "No, not surprised, but you don't even know for sure. Why don't we wait to make decisions until we find out?"

  "Okay, but if I'm pregnant, I'm having the baby."

  She gathered her la
ptop and stood up. She stared down at me, scolding me for doing this to her. I kept my mouth shut and followed her to the student health center.

  As we walked across campus, my brain worked overtime. I thought up each scenario of how she wanted me to react once we found out for sure. I imagined blowing up and getting angry. Being supportive and excited, but it seemed contrived. Part of me liked the idea of being a father. Don't get me wrong; the idea of a tiny, helpless little thing depending on me to guide him through life scared the hell out of me.

  Shit, no pressure.

  And when I thought about my father, it became a bad idea all over again.

  We entered the student health center, a four-story red brick building. I breathed a sigh of relief when we entered the empty waiting room. It wouldn't take a psychic to figure out the reason for our visit. Although, the bags under my eyes from my hangover and her puffy face, maybe they would think we contracted malaria over winter break.

  Carrington signed in, and we sat and waited for the nurse to call us back.

  "Carrington Butler," the nurse, standing at the door said.

  Carrington got up and headed back. She turned to me. "Are you coming?"

  "Oh, yeah, if you want," I said. I knew my passivity bothered her, but I needed her to tell me what she needed.

  Carrington came out of the bathroom after peeing in a cup, and the nurse escorted us to an exam room.

  As we waited for the doctor, I studied a poster on the wall.

  "What are you thinking?" Carrington asked.

  "I'm thinking how gross the insides of people are."

  Mature answer, I know.

  "Josh."

  "Carrington, I'm sorry. I don't know what to say. I don't know what you want me to say or do."

  "I want you to tell me how you feel about this."

  "About what, we don't even know for sure."

  She opened her mouth to say something else, but the doctor walked in and she shut up.

  "So, Carrington, you are pregnant. I'm going to take some blood and examine you in a minute, but do you know the date of your last period."

  "I think it was October second, but my periods are always been irregular."

  "Do you have an idea when this happened?"