Kiss To Forget (Blairwood University #2) - Anna B. Doe Page 0,88
dully.
“Joking aside, I think you’d be good for him. Tame his bad boy ways. Not that he’s been much of a bad boy lately. He’d have to be here to do that.”
I didn’t have the heart to tell her that Nixon has more serious things on his mind right now than chasing puck bunnies or groupies or whatever they’re called.
Sighing, I look at her. “Was there a point in you coming here? Or did you just come to annoy me?”
“Well, there actually is a point.” She takes a breath as if calming herself. “Hayden and I will be going to California for spring break. I’m going back home.”
All the irritation disappears in a blink of an eye. “Are you sure?” I lean over the counter, my hand closing over hers. “Do you feel ready to go back? Maybe it’s too soon…”
Callie has been working hard in the past few months on her therapy and dealing with the things that happened in her past. She confessed that she hasn’t gone to her family home ever since the accident and for her to even contemplate that has to be hard.
“I’m… getting there.” She takes a sip of her coffee, giving herself time to choose her words carefully. “At first, I was scared. I wasn’t sure this was the right time. If there was ever going to be a right time, but knowing Hayden is going with me makes things easier.”
“You’ve come a long way from that angry, closed-off girl I met back in August.”
A soft smile spreads over her lips. “Being with Hayden helps.”
I shake my head. “It’s not just Hayden, although he’s good for you, but it’s you. You’ve changed somewhat for the better. You know, when you’re not being all nosy.”
Callie laughs and shoves me away. “Oh, shut up.”
Chapter Thirty
YASMIN
A soft knock on the door startles me. I look at the clock on my phone, which says it’s well past one o’clock in the morning, and then back over my shoulder.
Callie is sleeping at Hayden’s once again. Shocker, I think, not.
Another soft knock raps against the door, the sound echoing ominously in the quiet room.
Who could it be?
There is no reason for the dorm manager to be stopping by, she only shows up when there is a noise complaint or something like that.
Chloe? Knowing her she probably wouldn’t even bother knocking.
It’s probably just some drunken idiot.
Slowly, I get up and go to the door, looking around the room for anything I can use to defend myself.
Technically, nobody but the residents should be able to enter the dorm, but we all know things don’t work like that in real life, and I need to be prepared for anything. I don’t usually have visitors so late at night. Spotting one of my larger books sitting on the nightstand, I pick it up and leisurely hold it in my arms before pulling the door open.
“Nixon,” I whisper, surprised to see him. “What are you doing here?”
He looks like a complete mess. His clothes are wrinkled, hair disheveled. There are dark circles underneath his eyes like he hasn’t slept for days.
“I—” He swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing with the motion. “I need you, Yasmin.”
NIXON
The book she’s been holding falls down on the floor as she wraps her arms around me and pulls me into her room.
The space is dim, the only light still on is the one on her desk, where different books are open, and the laptop screen is shining brightly.
Closing my eyes, I return her embrace, holding on for dear life, because that’s how this feels. Like I’m drowning, and Yasmin is the only thing that’s keeping me together.
My lifeline.
I bury my head in the crook of her neck, inhaling her sweet scent into my lungs and letting it fill me with warmth.
With strength.
With life.
Then the guilt comes. It slams into me like a train wreck, almost bringing me to my knees. Guilt that I’m here, that I get to escape while my sister still has to stay at our family home. Guilt that having Yasmin in my arms brings me peace, patching up the holes that have appeared in my chest since the day I let her go back to campus. Guilt that I’m living while my mother is dying.
Unshed tears of anger, frustration, and pain burn my eyes, but I squeeze them shut, refusing to let them fall, refusing to break, as I tighten my hold on Yasmin.
“Shh…” Yasmin whispers soothingly, her hands stroking my back. “I’m here.”