Wanting Reed (Break Me) BOOK 2 by Antoinette Candela

across the quad to find a quieter space to think.
    Elle will be taking classes. I doubt she is out here right now, but I find myself looking for her, hoping just to see her and maybe even approach her. Maybe not. I don’t know. I want to. If I don’t, it’s going to drive me crazy. Actually, it already is.
    I gaze across the street toward the Boston University athletic building and campus. Quickly deciding to make the most of my extra time, I head to the registrar’s office, which is located on the other side of campus, to register for classes. Changing directions, I head to the intersection and cross the street when the light says it’s all right to go. I start to pick up the pace as the administration building comes into view. I’m anxious to occupy my mind with something other than Elle for once, but I don’t think it’s going to be that simple.
     

     
    Sitting on a bench under a tree outside the administration building, I leaf through the class schedule because I’m not quite ready to go inside yet. The damn words and course numbers don’t mean shit to me. The idea of registering and taking classes this fall seems near fucking impossible right now. I should take a full load and try to get this degree completed in less than two years. Maybe I won’t have to complete it if April tryouts go as planned, but I’ve never been someone who starts something without finishing it or doing shit half-ass. Case and point. I managed to fuck up what I had with Elle with no chance of redemption and then I did the same with gambling. I landed in the hospital with some broken bones and a fucking broken heart for keeping my damn mouth shut when I should have been spewing out every damn word about my past to her. I was basically holding out for shit just to pass. My plan was to coast along without having to tell her. I deserve this. I’m damn near batting one hundred when it comes to messing up shit in my pathetic life.
    “Hey, do you mind if I sit here?”
    I look up and shield my eyes from the sun. Damn sunglasses. I knew I forgot something when I left the house. I attempt to make out the person standing in front of me, but all I can see are some black sandals outlined with fancy jewels and bright red toes. I like that. It makes me smile, and then I think of Elle. I move my eyes up from her feet and notice her shapely legs. She’s wearing cut-off shorts and a black tank top with a skull and cross bones printed on it. A couple of sterling silver chains hang from her graceful neck. I finally reach her face that’s framed by long black hair and these fucking amazing big, gray eyes. She has to be Native American because her skin is the color of caramel, and she’s wearing silver bangles on her right wrists that jingle when she moves her backpack off her shoulder.
    “Sure,” I react by dropping my backpack in front of me to make room for her.
    “Thanks,” she says. Her voice is sultry, like she’s almost singing her words. I glance over at her as she grabs her water bottle from her backpack and takes a drink. “Piper,” she says as she extends her hand.
    “Reed. Nice to meet you,” I say as I take her hand in mine. I’m surprised at how strong her grip is.
    “What happened to your arm?” She taps my cast with her finger, raising her sparkling gray eyes to mine.
    “I took a spill,” I answer, remembering the night in the hotel room when I got the shit beat out of me. That was more than a spill; that was a fucking collision with a Mack truck. It was a major wake-up call, and I’m lucky to be alive.
    “I broke my wrist a couple of times. Hairline fractures. Hurt like a bitch and the cast itched like crazy.” She frowns and her eyes twinkle. Damn. She’s a pretty girl.
    “Yeah.” I chuckle. “I get this shit off in a week.”
    “Can I sign it?” she chirps. In a flourish, she pulls out a black Sharpie from her backpack, flipping her long black hair behind her shoulder.
    “You’re kidding, right?” I