Page 68 of Trick Play
It doesn’t matter that this is Cal. That he’s not Brent. I never thought Brent would do something like that to me, either. Though, if I’m honest, if I’d insisted Brent leave his phone in another room or turn it off like I’ve done with Cal, I doubt Brent would’ve gone along with it so easily. Especially knowing he was tasked with getting pics of me.
Was he sleeping with other people to get pics of them too?
I hadn’t actually considered that before.
“Piper.” Cal’s deep voice brings me back to the present, his hand holding onto mine as I reach for my clothes.
I just told him everything—what happened with Brent, how the university did nothing, how I decided to take justice into my own hands, how my parents swooped in and withdrew me from school, insisting I move back home and finish college at Marycliff. I didn’t bring up Gray and his self-appointed babysitting duties, partly because after last week, I’m still too raw about that and I knew I wouldn’t be able to tell Cal the more recent history in the same quiet, emotionless voice I did everything else. It’s been nine months. I’ve had time to cultivate that distance. But not with last week’s events.
And now he’s angry. So angry he can’t even look at me. And when he said he’s sorry, I took that as my cue to leave. No one wants to date an angry, untrusting, unhinged woman who suspects everyone of taking covert nudes to send to their friends or post online who then will break into your house and steal your router and video game consoles.
I’ve seen Cal’s setup. It’d probably still be in the realm of petit theft here, because it’s just him and Simon, not an entire fraternity’s worth of equipment, but still. No point in risking that, right?
I blink up at his hand stopping mine from dragging my clothes closer to me so I can get dressed and leave. Leave and never come back. That brings unexpected tears to my eyes.
“What are you doing?” he repeats. He sits on the bed, his other hand gently circling my wrist as he disentangles my fingers from my clothes. “Please talk to me before you run away.”
“Can I please put my clothes on?” I ask quietly, feeling far too exposed.
“Of course.” He jerks his hands away, giving me space to stand. I don’t bother with my panties or bra, just needing to cover up right now.
He watches me as I sit down on the bed again, holding myself stiffly apart, and part of me wants to be mad at the exquisite care he’s showing. He’s looking at me with that same careful concern I’ve been getting from my parents since last year, and I’m tired of everyone looking at me that way.
“That’s why you turned off my phone,” he says, his gaze level, his blue eyes serious.
I nod, swallowing hard and looking down at my hands in my lap. “I couldn’t take the chance.”
“The chance that I’d be like that … that …” He puffs up, his shoulders seeming to grow broader as his chest expands. He casts around, but can’t seem to come up with a term harsh enough.
A fleeting smile passes over my face. “Yeah. I mean …” Shrugging, I drop my gaze again. “I didn’t ever suspect he’d do that, either. Clearly I can’t trust myself not to pick that kind of asshole. If I did once, I could do it again, right? But you were determined to get with me, and I’d decided that letting you catch me was the quickest way to put an end to whatever little game you had going. At the very least, I could make sure you couldn’t take pictures as easily.” I glance around the corners of his room. “I mean, I guess you could have hidden cameras in here, but …” I shrug again.
Horror takes over his expression. It might be comical if we were talking about anything else. He looks away, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows, blinking rapidly. “I wouldneverdo something like that,” he says harshly.
“Okay.” I mean, what else is there to say?
He meets my eyes, his hand reaching out to cup my face so I can’t turn away. “I swear to god, Piper, I want you to tell me that guy’s name and what frat he’s part of so I can go down there and find him and tear him apart. The fact that anyone would do that at all is …” He shakes his head, letting out a rough breath. “I can’t even think of strong enough words to describe how I feel about that. It’s despicable. He’s despicable.” Understanding dawns on his face. “That’s why you wouldn’t send me pics this weekend?”
Nodding, I pull away from his hand so I can examine my cuticles some more, pushing them down unnecessarily. “Yeah. I can’t—I won’t—” I shake my head, and he pulls me into his arms, moving back on the bed so he can settle me across his still very much naked lap.
But for the first time maybe ever, his touch is completely unsexual. His goal is simply comfort, and my initial fear that he was upset with me and notforme is adequately relieved, and I absorb his heat. His strength. The comfort he’s offering so freely.
When he approached me at that party and I shut him down without a second thought, who would’ve thought we’d end up here?
He brushes his lips over my cheekbone, then tucks my head under his chin, his arms wrapping around me, a soothing weight. His chest rises and falls as he breathes in deep, his heart thumping steadily under my ear. I’m not sure how long we stay like that, silent, each lost in our own thoughts. Though I’m not really thinking so much as just existing, enjoying this moment for however long it lasts.
At length, he sets me away from him for a moment, his thumb brushing away a tear I hadn’t even noticed, his gaze level and serious. “Piper, I swear to you that I would never share any pictures you ever decided to send me. But I also won’t ask again. That’s a firm boundary, obviously, and I get it. And I’ll turn off my phone when we’re together. I thought it was a fun game where you wanted all my attention with no chance of interruptions, and to be honest, I had no objection to that. When we’re together, I don’t want interruptions anyway. But now that I know the reason why? I’ll do my best to show you it’s off or let you turn it off yourself, okay?”
The shell I’ve been trying to keep around my heart to guard it from Cal cracks open completely at his words. Sniffing, I try not to start blubbering like a ridiculous girl who cries about everything. I’ve never been that girl, and I don’t want to start now. But his solemn promise breaks down my walls in ways I didn’t know were possible.
“Okay.” And he seals his promise with a kiss.
* * *
I end up staying at Cal’s far later than I planned, only extricating myself from his arms and his bed because it’s either that or stay the night. And as tempting as staying the night sounds, especially after his promises and the way he once again made love to me, wiping away my tears with the tender attentions of his whole self, body and soul, the knowledge of how early he has to be up for his morning workouts and the fact that all my things are back at the dorm has me heading there.
We settle into an easy routine where we carve out time for each other as much as possible. Cal’s busy with classes and practice and workouts, and while I have one paper due by the end of the week plus general studying for finals to get through, my homework schedule is lighter than it’s been in weeks. We spend every evening together, usually ending up in his room, muffling our cries of pleasure and just basking in each other’s company.
Our relationship has changed on a fundamental level, and while we haven’t had an official discussion about it, the daily time together and texts while we’re apart make it clear we’re a genuine couple. There’s nothing casual or temporary about our relationship or the feelings that are sinking their roots deep into me.
