Laying my head back on the couch, I’m hit with the overwhelming exhaustion from moving in. I feel like if I don’t move right this moment, I’ll wake up in this exact position tomorrow morning. Not that I have anything to do tomorrow. Or the day after that. But I’m going to make it on my own—without my parents’ or my cousin’s help.
With a groan, I sit up and drag myself off the couch. Tucking my feet into the house shoes in front of me, I shuffle down the hallway, noting the light is still on in the bathroom.
Really? He’s worse than a girl.
I yawn and lean against my doorframe as the knob on the bathroom rattles, and the door opens. Ben steps out, a fluffy towel wrapped around his middle, showcasing his deep V that he must work out hard for. He stops suddenly when he notices me standing there, and I instantly feel my heartrate kick into high gear.
What are you doing, Pepper? Get yourself together.
“Oh, hey. I was waiting for the bathroom.” I gesture behind him like he doesn’t know where his bathroom is.
“Oh. Okay. Well, it’s all yours.”
He stands there a moment longer as I watch beads of water chase each other down between his cut muscles before he clears his throat, and I snap out of it.
“Right. Okay. Right,” I say and spin to walk into my room, but I don’t quite make it through the doorway. Instead, I slam my head into the doorframe, bouncing back a few steps and clutching my head.
“Oh my God, are you okay?”
Ben is beside me, peering at my forehead, and I can feel the warmth from his freshly showered body. The scent of whatever masculine body wash he uses assaults my nostrils, and I take a deep breath under the guise of trying to stop myself from screaming. My head freaking hurts. I touch my forehead and then pull my hand away, noting there’s no blood.
“Damn … you’re going to have a bruise,” Ben says, peering closer, his face only a few inches from mine.
My breath catches in my chest. Our eyes lock, and I immediately avert mine, looking down. Big mistake. His towel is starting to slip, revealing even more of that fantastic V, before he reaches down to catch it and keep it closed. I can feel my skin flush, and I thank my good senses that I didn’t turn on the hallway light before I stood here like a creep in the dark. I don’t need Ben seeing how he affects me. Especially since he’s calm, cool, and collected and not interested in his friend’s baby cousin. He’s just helping out Mason by letting me stay here.
“I’m fine,” I say with a weak smile as I rub my forehead again.
Before Ben can say anything else, I rush into my room and shut the door, leaving him standing in the hallway. I lean back against the door and groan. Forgetting about the shower I wanted to take, I quickly change into sleep shorts and a T-shirt, tie my hair up in a bun, and crawl into bed, my head throbbing in rhythm with my heartbeat.
I’m embarrassed, and I want to erupt into tears and sob at how lonely I feel, but I know that I have to be strong. I can be independent. Well … for as long as my secret stays a secret.
I roll my eyes and mentally berate myself. You are so stupid, Pepper. How did you think this was a good idea? How do you think you’ll get away with this?
Turning over, I ball up a fist and slam it against my pillow. Determined to throw a fit instead of crying.
My phone rings from where I set it on the bedside, pulling me from my musings, and I roll over to see my mom calling. Exactly what I need—more questions.
As soon as I answer the call, Mom doesn’t even wait for me to say hello, her voice immediately bursting through the speaker. “Hello, dear.”
“Hi, Mom,” I say, homesickness hitting me in the stomach again.
“My sweet Pepper, it’s good to hear your voice.”
I smile at the familiarity of her tone.
“I miss you, Mom,” I say, tears threatening to choke me.
“I miss you too, my sweet pea. How is Nashville? Has Mason been helping? I called him at the beginning of this week and threatened to come up there if he didn’t.”
I laugh at the visual of my mother—who is shorter than me, and I’m not tall, only at five feet two inches—threatening Mason.
“It’s been good. I moved into my new apartment today, and I’m going to Mason’s tomorrow for dinner with him and Jules and little Ginny. Oh, Mama, you should see her. Her cheeks are so chubby.”
“Your father and I are planning to come and visit in a month or two. We want you to give us a tour of the campus when we do.”
I freeze at her words. A tour of the campus. Of my grad school’s campus.
“Did we put enough money in your account to cover tuition?” Mom’s question draws me back into the conversation.
“Oh, of course. It was plenty,” I tell her, but in actuality, I haven’t touched it.
I can’t be independent and rely on my parents’ money. Instead, I cashed out some stocks that I had in Stratten Enterprises—my family’s company—and I’m using that. I want to use my own money, make my way. I’ll give their money back … once I tell them.
“When is orientation?” My mom is very goal-oriented. She’s always had a plan and stuck to it.
My house in Texas always has a to-do list, and it’s never finished, so I don’t know why I’m surprised that she’s asking me questions about school. I guess since I’ve put it out of my
