Kiss To Forget (Blairwood University #2) - Anna B. Doe Page 0,112

see him laugh. I haven’t seen one of his smiles, his real smiles, in forever. Let alone heard him laugh. There was too much darkness in his life to find a reason for joy lately, and I missed it.

I missed him.

A part of me hoped that Callie was right, that Nixon just needed time to deal with all the things that have happened lately, and once he does he’ll be back. But as the days passed, my hope diminished.

The girl’s hand wraps around his arm. My heart stops as I watch her pull him down, her lips brushing against the corner of his mouth as she gets on the tips of her toes to whisper something in his ear.

Not just any girl.

Karen.

Chloe’s roommate.

Seeing her cozying up to him, seeing Nixon letting her, is like a punch to my gut.

Did he already move on?

All the insecurities come rushing back at once, as all the fears that I’ve been fighting from an early age come back to the surface.

He isn’t a one-woman kind of guy. Coach’s mocking words come back to haunt me. I shake my head, refusing to give him power.

Nixon isn’t like that.

Moving forward, I cross the distance between us until I’m standing next to him.

“Nixon.”

His whole body tenses when he hears me. The music is loud, a complete contrast to my low voice, yet he can hear me.

Slowly he turns around to face me. A smile is plastered on his face, but it does nothing to hide the darkness eating at him on the inside. “Yasmin.”

We stare at each other for what seems like forever. Time slows down, everything around us falling into oblivion. It’s just him and me and all the demons surrounding us.

His. Mine. Ours.

Everything we’ve been trying to forget, to push back, finally coming back to haunt us.

“What are you doing?”

From up close I can see the details I couldn’t when I was standing across the room. Like the fact that he lost some weight. The dark circles didn’t disappear, they’ve only grown bigger since I last saw him, cheeks turning hollow.

He might be acting like nothing’s going on but on the inside he’s slowly dying.

“Having fun.” Nixon flashes me a grin, but the dimple doesn’t pop out. “What does it look like?”

He sways a little on his feet, and I grab his hand to steady him. “It looks like you’re getting drunk.”

“That’s the fun part.”

I touch his face, but he flinches back. I try to hide the fact that his reaction hurts but I’m emotionally drained as it is. It’s not even about the fact that he doesn’t want me to touch him, but that he’s okay with her touching him.

He’s hurting.

Well, I’m hurting too.

“Drinking so much you can’t stand on your feet, which will probably soon lead to you puking your guts out? Sounds like super fun.” Then I remember. “Is Jade here?” I look around, but don’t see her between all the people. Have more of them arrived since I’ve gotten here? It couldn’t have been more than a few minutes.

“Nope, she’s a big girl, and she can take care of herself.”

“You left her alone?”

After everything?

A different kind of panic creeps in at the thought of Jade all alone in her house. The house in which she spent months caring for her sick mother.

He shrugs. “She wanted it like that.”

She wanted it like that?

What does that even mean? What the hell has happened since we left? Nixon wouldn’t leave his sister alone, not after the bathtub incident. It just doesn’t add up...

He tips the bottle, spilling some of the liquid over himself.

“Give me that, you’ve had enough.” I try to reach for the bottle, but even drunk he’s faster, pulling it out of my reach.

His friends laugh around us.

“Gimme some of that,” Karen moans in her irritating, high-pitched voice. I expect him to refuse her, but he doesn’t. Instead he offers her the bottle. She doesn’t bother reaching for it, just wraps her lips around the opening and drinks as Nixon tips the bottle.

Some of the liquid drips onto her chin, and they all burst into laughter once again. When she signals she’s done, Nixon pulls the bottle from her lips. Karen wipes her chin with her fingers and then exaggeratedly sucks on them.

“Is this your sort of fun?” I look at Karen, who gives me a smug, self-satisfied smile.

Bitch.

It’s not even strange Chloe can’t stand her.

“This was always my sort of fun.”

“Not always,” I counter. “You’re drunk.” I wrap my hand around