Keegan gestured toward the Slam Man he’d been wailing on. “He’s all yours.”
Bryn took a few practice punches until she fell into a rhythm of jabs and uppercuts like her father had taught her. After a few minutes, she developed a mantra to go along with it. Jaxon was a jerk. Punch. Punch. Kick. He’d deserved what she’d done. Punch. Punch. Kick. Waiting for payback was going to suck. Punch. Punch. Kick. She stopped for a breather and to wipe the sweat out of her eyes.
If she really did go through with the marriage-contract-from-hell, she’d make sure there was a Slam Man available in their estate. That way when she wanted to punch Jaxon, she’d go take it out on the Slam Man instead. Maybe she should have several Slam Mans. One per floor or one per wing.
Clint and Ivy walked Bryn to the rest of her classes. Jaxon hovered nearby with a you’re-dead-to-me look on his face. By dinner that night, Bryn was working on her I-don’t-give-a-crap attitude but finding it hard to achieve.
“I’m trying to be Zen,” Bryn said. “And not worry about what he might be plotting as revenge, but every time I see him my irritation goes up another notch.”
“Maybe you should have it out with him,” Ivy said.
“If I thought it would do any good, I would.” Bryn slammed her fork down. “I know he’ll counter any question or complaint I have with some holier-than-thou Blue Clan logic that will irritate the living hell out of me. And then I won’t just color his hair, I’ll set it on fire. Any advice?”
“Ignore him and hope he goes away?” Clint said.
“I’ve tried that,” Bryn said. “Didn’t work.”
“Then either you talk to him or you don’t,” Clint said.
“And remember we’re always available to help you dispose of a body,” Ivy said.
After dinner, Bryn started on her homework. She’d just finished her last assignment when her phone rang.
There was a 50 percent chance it was either her grandmother or Jaxon. Steeling herself she answered the phone.
“We need to talk,” Jaxon said.
Fire surged in Bryn’s gut. “I suggest you rephrase that as a question rather than a command.”
“Fine. Can we talk?”
She desperately wanted to say no, but the joy from shutting him down wouldn’t last long, and they did need to straighten a few things out. “I’m done with my homework if you want to come over now.”
“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”
Bryn loaded up her book bag for the next day and waited for Jaxon to knock on the door. How mad and hateful was he going to be? She took a few deep, cleansing breaths. No matter what he said, she wouldn’t show any emotion. If she was going to be in a relationship with a Blue, she’d have to start acting like one. For no other reason than self preservation. Maybe she’d start making voodoo dolls to take her frustration out on.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Okay. I can do this. She crossed the room and opened the door. Jaxon stood there, holding a book and a container with two cups of milk and half a dozen cookies. He came in and set the container on the coffee table before taking a seat in one of the winged-back chairs.
She sat across the coffee table from him on the couch. “What’s with the cookies?”
“A prop to make people believe that everything is fine.” His tone was cold and calculated.
“So when you murder me for turning your hair pink it won’t look premeditated?”
“Something like that.”
“I’m not apologizing,” Bryn said. “So if that’s what you’re here for you might as well leave.”
He gave her the silent treatment.
Fine. If he wasn’t going to talk, she would. “We had fun flying together during the first snow, and then you said something to make me mad on purpose, in front of the entire campus. Why?”
“I resented you for being who you are.”
“That clears everything up.” She reached for a cookie.
“I resented you because you weren’t Rhianna.”
How in the hell was she supposed to respond to that? Rather than trying, she grabbed one of the cups of milk, removed the carryout lid, broke the cookie in half, and dunked it in the milk before taking a bite. She finished two cookies while she waited for Jaxon to say something else. He ate a cookie as if he was waiting for her to say something. Finally, she caved.
“I’ll never be Rhianna. I’m not trying to replace her, but we are stuck together, so I don’t understand why we can’t make the best of it.”
“After I had fun with you it felt like I’d been disloyal to her,” Jaxon said.
“Okay. I have several responses to that. All or most of them will tick you off. So listen before you yell at me. First off, you should probably see a grief counselor to help you deal with losing someone you loved. Second, according to the contract we signed, your loyalty is supposed to be to me now. Rhianna is gone and she’s not coming back. Third, there is only so much crap I am willing to put up with and there are only so many times you can be a jerk before I write you off as a lost cause. Not to mention, I am training to become a Medic. I could probably poison you and make it look like an accident—so you really need to stop pissing me off.”
“I’ll do my best, but you can’t pull a prank on me in public. Ever. Again.”
There were so many smart-ass remarks she could make, but she refrained. “I can agree to that.”
“Good. I’ll acknowledge that you’re on Team Westgate. We can work toward being friends.” And then he stood and exited her dorm room, leaving the milk and cookies on the table.
Bryn slid down on the couch. She should feel better, but she didn’t. Team Westgate sucked.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Bryn called Ivy and summarized the latest turn in her bizarre life. “So now you’re Team Westgate and he won’t be an asshat?” Ivy said. “I’m pretty sure that’s not enough to make a long-term relationship work, but maybe it’s a start.”
“Part of me is relieved, and part of me wants to go chase down a Blue female and pray she’s a match for Jaxon so I can push him off onto someone else.” Bryn shoved the last piece of cookie in her mouth.
“No one knows what the future will bring,” Ivy said. “Clint chased me for years and I swore we’d never end up together but look at us now. You and Jaxon could end up having a real relationship after you’re married.”
Did she even want that? “It’s not so much that I want something real with him,” Bryn said. “I just want something real with someone. Does that make me an awful person?”
“No. It makes you normal,” Ivy said. “Try looking at it this way, even if Jaxon had never been involved with Rhianna, this whole situation between you two would still be awkward. You’d have to become friends first before entertaining the possibility of anything more. And that’s kind of the point you’re at now.”
“I guess so,” Bryn said. “So maybe I should just concentrate on the friendship because that’s the first step toward not wanting to kill him on a regular basis. Right?”
“Exactly,” Ivy said. “With everything that’s been going on, I’m not sure you’re paying attention, but school is out for Christmas break soon. You’ll be at your grandparents’ house again, doing Blue things. You should probably come to some sort of understanding before then.”
What Ivy said made sense, but it wasn’t necessarily easy to put into practice.
…
Jaxon walked Bryn to breakfast and to all her classes on Tuesday and Wednesday. They were civil to each other but it wasn’t comfortable. By Thursday evening, Bryn was tired of walking on eggshells. When he walked her back to her dorm room after dinner, she said, “Can you come in for a minute?”
He gestured that she should open the door and then followed her inside and went to sit at the library table.
She sat across from him. Now what? It’s not like she’d rehearsed what she wanted to say. “I’m really tired of things being awkward between us.”