The Year We Hid Away (12 page)

Chapter Eight:
You're Making Me Look Bad

—
Bridger

“So, we have a stats midterm coming up,” Scarlet said the following week as we walked away from the student center’s cafe take-out counter.

“Are you ready for it?” I was only half listening, because my eyes were focused on the way her jeans hugged her long legs.

“Nope,” she shook her head. “I’m not even close.”

“Ah,” I sighed. “Has your tutor been slacking off?”

Scarlet cleared her throat, a tint of pink appearing on her cheeks. “Only on the statistics.”

I felt a little pang of guilt, then. Because my mind was absolutely not on statistics. “Right. Okay. Well, let’s find a seat here and not in your room. Because your tutor is easily distracted.”

She led me to a sofa by the windows, where I sat down and patted the spot just beside me. “Let’s see your notes,” I said, pulling a sandwich out of our bag.

As much as I hated to waste any of my precious Scarlet time on homework, she needed a little help with time series regression. An hour later, I had finished both the tutoring and a chicken parm.

I had just stood up to throw away our trash when someone called out in our direction. “
Jesus
, Bridge! I’ve been thinking about putting your face on the back of a milk carton.” Hartley was coming toward me, hand in hand with his girlfriend, Corey. I stared at them for a second, trying to figure out what it was that looked so different about them. And then I realized that Corey had ditched her crutches, and was walking almost smoothly, with nothing but a cane in one hand. It was wild.

I charged them, lifting Corey off her feet. After swinging her around in a complete circle, I set her down again carefully. “Christ, Callahan. I almost didn’t recognize you.”

“Because this is a new shirt, right?” she said, turning around in a circle.

“You goof,” I couldn’t stop smiling at her. “Seriously, you’re looking great.”

“Maybe if you showed up to see your friends more often, my accomplishments wouldn’t be such a shock,” she said.

“Really,” Hartley added. “Where the hell have you been? I can’t even catch you at breakfast.”

I hadn’t eaten breakfast all year.

I gave him my most casual shrug. “I’m working three jobs, guys. Entertaining you over meals doesn’t pay enough.” Seeing them right now — Hartley with the symbol for “captain” on his hockey jacket, and Corey walking almost as if she’d never sat in a wheelchair — it caused me almost physical pain. Because there was so much I’d been missing.

Moping over the carefree life I’d lost was totally pointless. But it hurt.

“Hi, I’m Corey,” Hartley’s girlfriend said, with a wave at Scarlet, who was now standing behind me. “If Bridger won’t introduce me, I’ll do it myself.”

“No need to get impatient, Callahan. I was getting to that.” I wrapped an arm around my girl. “This is Hartley, one of my oldest friends. And Corey Callahan, who’s a pain in my ass. Guys, this is my girlfriend Scarlet.”

There was a loud silence. Instead of saying something, both Hartley and Corey were openly staring, their mouths open.

Great
.

Corey exchanged a loaded glance with Hartley. “Say it again,” she demanded.

“C’mon, Callahan,” I grumbled. “You’re making me look bad, here.” I snuck a glance at Scarlet, but she only looked amused.

Hartley recovered first. “It’s nice to meet you, Scarlet.” A smile tugged at his lips. “Now I know why we haven’t seen Bridger since September.”

Corey dropped Hartley’s hand, so that she had a free one to shake hands with Scarlet. “Really, a pleasure to meet Bridger’s
girlfriend
.” Her eyes twinkled. “Wow. I can’t believe that I have to sit down to a study session right now, after that bomb you just dropped, Bridge. Just promise me that we can all hang out soon.”

“Sure thing,” I lied.

“I’d better get over there. Nice to meet you, Scarlet!” She gave Scarlet a big smile, and me a wink. Hartley kissed her on the temple, and then she began to walk across the atrium toward the meeting rooms, planting the cane lightly with every other step.

My eyes tracked after her. “Damn, that’s really impressive.”

“I know, right?” Hartley agreed, flinging himself into a chair. “It’s those new braces. There was a hell of a learning curve, but the results are pretty incredible.”

“Is she… Will she get to skate again?” I sat down on the sofa, tugging Scarlet down next to me.

Hartley shook his head. “Nah. The motion’s not the same. And it’s too risky. If she broke a wrist, and couldn’t hold the cane for a couple of months, that would be a disaster.” He leaned over to punch me in the arm. “But, seriously, let’s compare schedules. Hockey is kicking my ass for the next three months. But there has to be a couple of hours somewhere. Preferably with a case of beer and a football game. But either way…”

“Sure.”

“Gotta run,” Hartley said. “I have a history lecture. But,
soon
, okay?”

“Soon,” I echoed as Hartley got up and trotted off.

I watched him for a second before turning to Scarlet beside me. “So that was…”

“…
Fascinating
,” she finished for me. “First of all, your
best
friends don’t know you have Lucy?”

I gave my chin a single shake. “They’re the last people I can tell.”

“God, why?”

“Because they’d do anything for me.”

Her frown deepened. “And that’s a problem because…?”

“Hartley’s mom waited two decades to go to nursing school. And I’m not going to wreck it.”

“Damn,” she whispered. “But maybe there’s some way she could help you around the edges. I don’t know… weekends or something?”

I shook my head again. “That’s not how Theresa works. She puts other people first. I’m not going to be the one who fucks up her dream.”

“Oh, Bridge,” she put her head on my shoulder.

“Scarlet?”

“Yeah?”

“Is it okay that I called you my girlfriend?”

She was quiet for a second. “I liked it,” she said quietly, “until I realized you only said it because you needed an alibi.”

I slid my arm around her waist and pulled her closer. “No, I swear. It just slipped out, because that’s who you are to me.” I stole a single kiss before continuing. “I’ve never had a girlfriend before. I’m probably doing everything wrong. But I sure liked saying it.”

She lifted her chin, and her hazel eyes sparkled. “Well, if you put it that way.”

“I’m sorry my friends got so freaked out for a minute there. Last year…” I paused. And then I realized I had no idea what to say for myself.

Scarlet seemed amused by my discomfort. “The Katies told me that you never even dated anyone twice in a row. They told me to watch out for you.”

“Well, ouch.” I hated the idea that Scarlet’s freshmen roommates, who I didn’t really know, would talk about me like that. Even if what they said was mostly true. There were no secrets at Harkness. And now that I was carrying around a doozy of a secret, the gossip mill practically made me break into a sweat. “Maybe The Katies are right. I still haven’t managed to date you two nights in a row, yet.”

Scarlet punched me in the arm, and I kissed her on the lips. “Don’t worry,” she breathed. “I don’t listen to everything they say.”

I tightened my arms around her, putting my lips right beside her ear. “I wasn’t looking for a girlfriend this year.” I dropped my voice to a whisper. Because I’d never said this before. “Hell, I wasn’t looking for a girlfriend
ever
. I never needed that connection before. But I like having you in my life. It’s better with you here.”

“I like being here,” she whispered.

So I kissed her again. And then, because this is my life and not somebody’s love song, my watch beeped.

Chapter Nine:
Never Much of a Basketball Fan

—
Scarlet

On Friday afternoon, I received a text from Bridger:
Please tell me you’re free tonight. Giving you like 6 hours advance notice, here
.

I called him immediately. “Seriously? Where are we going?”

“Nowhere,” he said. “Sorry about that. But we can watch a movie at my place together, for once. Come at eight-thirty, which is after bedtime.”

“How…?”

“You’ll see. I’m in the second courtyard — the little one.”

I had no clue why it should suddenly work out for us to watch a movie in Bridger’s room after Lulu’s bedtime, but I was ecstatic. I brought popcorn and Cokes, texting him from the courtyard at exactly eight-thirty:
Knock Knock
.

A minute later Bridger’s head popped out of an entryway door. “Hi,” he said, smiling at me.

I couldn’t keep the big grin off my face. “Hi.” And then I kissed him right there on the doorstep. I was just so happy to see him.

“Mmm,” he said. “Come upstairs, okay? But we’re going to tiptoe through my room, and then through the fire door.”

I followed him as he opened the door to his room — a single. Lulu was asleep on a mattress on the floor, which lay beside Bridger’s bed. Her sleeping face wore a serious expression, her hair fanning out on the pillow. We tiptoed around her, then on through a wooden door, into the neighboring room. It was a single of similar proportions.

Bridger shut the door behind us. “My neighbor is on the basketball team,” he said. “And they’re away at Dartmouth tonight, for a preseason tournament. I asked him if we could sit in here and watch TV while he was gone.”

“Brilliant. But what if she wakes up?”

He shook his head. “She sleeps like the dead. But also, I told her exactly where I’d be.” He bent over his neighbor’s bed, which was a tangled mess. Bridger straightened the spread as best he could. “He’s such a slob. Hang on,” he said. He slipped back into his own room and returned with his own comforter and pillows, arranging them on the bed. I sat down on the finished product, a pillow between my back and the wall.

The neighbor had a big flat-screen TV. Bridger flipped through the offerings, but there was nothing terribly appealing. “Let’s just settle for that comedy,” I said at last.

“Sure,” Bridger agreed.

For about ten minutes we watched the movie, drinking Coke and snuggling against each other. But I couldn’t keep my mind on the plot. The solid weight of Bridger’s arm around me, and the feel of his thumb stroking my palm stoked my senses. I was all too aware of the heat of his body and the masculine scent of his soap. It was enough to make me want to launch myself at him. And I probably would have, if he hadn’t gone there first.

Dropping his head, Bridger placed his lips on the side of my neck and began to kiss me. As it always did, the feel of his mouth on my body made me quiver with joy. It wasn’t long before I rolled back onto the bed, pulling him down on top of me.

With a chuckle, Bridger muted the video. And then we behaved like crazy, frantic people. His kisses were those of a starving man, devouring me. I wrenched his t-shirt over his head as if was about to burn him. He threw my top and bra across the room as if they would bite.

We’d waited a long time for this, to be alone together. Every night when I climbed into bed alone, I lay on my side, just imagining him curled up beside me. I also had sexier fantasies. I dreamt of him hovering above me, his warmth weighing me down, his hands on my body.

I’d been wanting this, but I’d also been nervous about it. Yet now, skin to skin, our kisses were hot and urgent. There was no room in my heart for nerves. He laid on top of me, caressing my breasts, his hips sliding over mine. I felt warmth blossom everywhere he touched me. He felt so right, fitted between my legs. In spite of my lack of experience, my body knew just what it wanted from him.

Things didn’t slow down until he rolled aside and put his hand on the zipper of my jeans. “Scarlet, is this okay?” His voice was thick with desire.

I nodded, reaching for his fly too.

In the movies, the clothes just fall right off. But the truth of the matter is that getting two people out of jeans and socks and underwear in one small bed was more awkward than I would have thought.

But never mind. In a couple of minutes we lay facing each other on the bed, nary a thread of clothing in evidence. One of my hands rested on Bridger’s naked hip. His free hand caressed my sternum. “Tell me what you like,” he breathed.

I had never been naked with a guy before, and the sheer beauty of him overwhelmed me. I was in way over my head, and it would have been
exactly
the right time to tell him that I was a virgin. But I didn’t do it. Instead I said, “What I like is
you
.”

As he leaned in to kiss me, his hand began a slow descent down my body. He paused at my belly to trace distracting circles there, before raking into the hair between my legs. And when his fingers found the wetness pooling there, we both gasped. Then I was paralyzed by the sensation of his touch, his fingers slicking an exquisite circle in a place where no man had ever touched me.