Be with Me (Wait for You, #2)



I stopped fighting Jase on the whole riding-versus-walking thing pretty quickly, especially as the leaves from the huge maple trees planted throughout the campus turned from bright green to a beautiful array of red, gold, and brown. September eased into October with a spell of rain that seemed to be never ending. Fall was well under way, and every morning and night, a chill rolled off the Potomac, warning that this could possibly be a very cold and a very wet winter.

And at least once a week, he’d stashed a cupcake in the Jeep, keeping it cool in a little cooler in the backseat. On the way to east campus, we’d share the tasty goodness. He was going to make me gain ten pounds this way, but so far I’d had a variety of cupcakes—Twix, Oreos, strawberry, white chocolate, Skittles—that was kind of gross—banana and chocolate, and a dark chocolate cupcake that was so decadent I felt like I had to go to church after eating it.

Today we shared a red velvet cupcake with some kind of cream cheese icing.

It was divine.

Wherever he got these cupcakes from deserved a gold medal in fucking awesome.

Thick, fat clouds crowded the sky by the time music class let out on Wednesday. It was going to rain. Again. With my knee, I had to be super-duper careful on the slick sidewalks. Busting my ass would be as embarrassing as it would be devastating.

I waved good-bye to Calla as I climbed into the Jeep. The second after Jase turned the ignition, the Elvis Presley channel on XM kicked on. Ugh. As he backed out, I leaned forward and turned it to the Octane channel.

Jase stopped—just completely stopped in the middle of the parking lot. “Did you just do what I think you just did?”

“What?” I asked innocently.

Cars were pulling out behind us, but his Jeep blocked their path. The look on his face said he so did not care. “You just turned off The Man for . . .” He glanced at the radio, grimacing. “For Godsmack?”

“Hey. Don’t you talk shit about Godsmack.”

“I have no problem with them.” A horn blew. He ignored it. “Until it affects Elvis.”

“I cannot listen to Elvis.”

His mouth dropped as his brows winged up. “We cannot be friends any longer.”

I giggled.

Jase narrowed his eyes as he finally—thank God—put the Jeep into drive. “It’s a good thing you’re cute or I’d drop-kick you out of this car.”

I laughed outright as I settled back in the seat. “I could say the same thing about you with your questionable tastes.” A wide smile pulled at my lips as he shot me a disgruntled look. “Country music has got to go.”

“Oh, you don’t know what good music is.” Jase hung a left. “I’m gonna have to educate you.”

Warmth bubbled up in my chest, and I struggled to ignore it. We went back and forth on the music while he searched for parking. It took a bit of time since he passed up several open spaces farther out. I knew why. He didn’t want me to walk, and while catering to my leg usually made my skin itchy and too tight, I didn’t say anything as he circled the main drag a few times until a spot opened up between Sara Creed and the Den. It was nice of him, courteous even, and I couldn’t let myself think that it meant anything else.

“How’s Jack?” I asked when he started preaching the gospel of Johnny Cash.

A certain light filled his eyes, a look of pride, and I went all ooey gooey on the inside. “He’s doing great. Started kindergarten this year. His teacher—Mrs. Higgins—said he’s the smartest kid in class.”

I smiled as I slid out of my seat. “Are you sure he’s your brother?”

“What do you mean?” He appeared in front of me and grabbed my bag out of the backseat before I could even move. There was an odd look to his gray eyes. “Of course, he’s my brother.”

“I was kidding.” I grabbed for my bag, but he slung it over his shoulder. “You know, with him being the smartest kid in class, I wasn’t sure how he could be related to you.”

The wariness vanished from his gaze and he smiled. “Ha. Jack gets his intelligence, good looks, and charm from me.”

“Uh-huh.”

Chuckling deeply, he held my bag in one hand and draped his other arm over my shoulders. The weight was sudden and distracting, causing the nape of my neck to tingle, sending tiny shivers down my arm.

To Jase, this wasn’t a big deal. Nor did he probably even notice the stares as we walked up the stairs to the Den, passing people who knew him—because everyone knew him. I easily remembered the first time he’d done something like this—the evening he’d arrived without any warning.