All That Remains Page 3

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  “I don’t have a harem of hoes.” Austin’s low whisper carries a note of humor to it as he sneaks up on her.

  She’d stayed clear of him for thirty minutes by talking to the hair band boys and dancing with her classmates. When she snuck into the dark corner to people watch and take a breath, she realizes she should have looked for him first. She didn’t, and now here he is beside her, his demeanor so similar to West’s that she has to close her eyes and swallow hard before she can look at him again.

  “It was one girl, who seemed cool until she opened her mouth. I couldn’t get her to take no for an answer. So yes, I used you.” He leans against the wall, spinning the ball in his hand in front of his waist.

  Taking a long sip of her new drink, she props her shoulder against the wall, too. She lets her eyes look at him then, honestly look at him, and she can see the remorse in his somber face.

  His head dips down, his shoulders hunching forward, as he offers a simple and sincere, “I’m sorry.”

  Her own head bobs of its own volition, in understanding, and her lips curl up in a small smile as she speaks.

  “So you’re saying you’ve lost that loving feeling?”

  She tries not to laugh at her own joke. She bites her tongue, purses her lips, and even rolls her head the other way, but the look on Austin’s face is priceless and when he starts to laugh, the sound makes her heart leap. It’s deep and strong, like West’s, but happier and a little bubblier somehow. She sags against the wall laughing, her hand pressing to her stomach when it starts to ache. It’s been a long, long time since she’s had something truly funny to laugh at.

  “Jules?” His serious voice freezes a giggle right on her lips. She wipes a tear of hilarity from her eye.

  “Yeah?”

  “I’m really sorry. I didn’t want to give you that letter. He’s my brother, and I did it for him.”

  She touches his forearm and he stops.

  “Can we not talk about him?”

  “But, I want -.”

  She huffs, pushing off the wall. “No. Like you said, you did it for him. I’m sorry. My attitude was uncalled for. You don’t owe me an explanation Austin. Let’s just agree to not discuss him, okay?”

  “Deal.”

  Jules leans back against the wall next to Austin, her arm bumping into his as they watch the party around them in silence. She wants to ask about West. She wants to know how he is, where he’s been and if he’s even home yet. But she can’t. Asking would mean she is interested, and she’s spent the past seven months since he left trying to get over him.

  “Can I ask you to dance?”

  Jules allows herself to nod and puts her hand in his as they weave their way through the crowd and find a space large enough for their bodies to fit. They smile timidly at each other as they move to the synthesizer beat of an old Duran Duran song, and Jules is grateful for all of the eighties songs she’s listened to with her parents on road trips. She hums along to the catchy tune as they dance around in circles. No one in the room is dancing in a fashion that makes any sense. Instead, they are mimicking moves seen in old movies and television episodes. The dancing breaks the ice as Austin scrutinizes her face.

  “What?” she finally asks when she catches him staring at her for the third time in one song.

  “Nothing.”

  She lifts her brow, and he shrugs. The tempo of their dancing begins to slow as the current song morphs into a slow rock beat and Jules finds herself standing there unsure of what to do next. Austin isn’t bothered one bit. Holding his volleyball between his hands, he lifts his arms and lassos her in the middle, pulling her closer to his chest.

  She stiffens as his volleyball pushes at her back pressing her closer to him before she relents and carefully wraps her hands around his neck. His bare skin is hot, and she feels somewhat awkward touching him this way.

  “I’ve never slow danced with a volleyball before.”

  His lips twitch. “Yeah, I guess I don’t need it.” He looks around and nods at something, releasing one arm from around her and tosses the ball behind her back.

  “You didn’t have to get rid of it.”

  “Nah, I’d rather hold onto you than my ball.”

  Austin’s eyes widen at his own comment, and the silent pause that follows is rife with tension. Jules’ chest rises as she takes a deep breath, biting her tongue at the dirty joke she wants to blurt out while processing the meaning of his words.

  “Let’s not make a joke about balls, okay?” He sighs with a shake of his head, and the dam is broken.

  Throwing her head back, Jules falls into another fit of laughter at Austin Rutledge’s expense. When he offers her a ride home several hours later, she agrees. Debbie had left early with a guy Jules didn’t know and Lisa is sitting in a corner chatting and doesn’t look ready to leave anytime soon.

  When they walk out to his car, he pulls a tee shirt out and slips it on, much to Jules relief, and maybe a small amount of disappointment. Hot abs and strong muscles are nice to look at. Why does it matter if they belong to your ex’s brother?

  “You know, Maverick, this scene really calls for a motorcycle.” Jules quips, thinking of his Top Gun inspired costume and the motorcycle Tom Cruise rides around on in the movie. “What happened to yours?” she asks, taking in his little blue sports car.

  “Oh, I still have it. It’s at home. I don’t typically ride it to parties.”

  “No? I guess it’s not the best vehicle to have when you're trying to bring home girls, huh?”

  His eyes narrow at the way she says ‘girls,’ but he doesn’t rise to her bait. She wants to kick herself for insinuating that he is used to picking up girls and bringing them home. She’d meant it, and she wouldn’t deny it, but he’s been nice to her and she has no reason to be snarky with him.

  She pulls her door handle to get in the car and mumbles, “Sorry, I-.”

  “Jules, don’t.” Austin interrupts her action. Leaning against the car with his elbows propped on the top, he stares at her across the vehicle. “I’m sure West told you enough about me to know that what you said was accurate. You’re right, a motorcycle isn’t the best way to get half drunk girls home from a party, but truth is I don’t bring it to parties because it’s been stolen more than once and I usually find it in some crazy spot on campus due to some idiots drunken prank.”

  She hears his explanation, but all of her focus is on the one word he said that she wishes he hadn’t: West. It is too much for her at the moment, and she finds herself sinking against the car, pressing her body against the door and asking him the question she’s wanted to ask from the moment she first saw him.

  “How is he?”

  Silence looms between them as he looks at her. Austin’s features became sad as he counters her question with one of his own.

  “How are you?”

  She doesn’t answer. He doesn’t ask again. They both slide into the vehicle and, with the exception of him asking where she lives and her telling him the name of her building, they don’t speak again. Austin drives onto campus, walks her to her building, and makes sure she gets inside safely. Then, he turns around and leaves. Jules returns to the solitude of her empty dorm.

  Five

  Jules

  Three days later, Jules is leaving her building on the way to grab a late lunch when she spots Austin’s head in a crowd of co-eds from her building. She wavers, not sure if he’s shown up to see her or if perhaps he’s there for someone else. Maybe he was walking by and ended up being mobbed by groupies, she thinks. Deciding to walk on by, she hurries onto the grass to cut around the group when his voice calls after her.

  “Wait up, Jules.” She stops as he disentangles himself from the posse around him and takes a few quick strides to her side. “I stopped by yesterday, but you weren’t around.”

  “Yeah, I have class first thing, followed by lab until 1:35 each day. Why were you looking for me?”

  “I thought we could hang.
Maybe talk some.”

  She shakes her head, “You know what, Austin? I don’t think that’s a great idea.”

  “Oh, c’mon. I’m sorry for the other night. You asked about West and I should have answered you instead of playing games. He’s good. He’s been-.”

  “No! No. La la la…” She mumbles incoherently to get him to stop speaking. “Don’t tell me. I don’t want to know. Not from you. I mean, it’s not your place. I shouldn’t have asked.”

  His light laughter brings a smile to her face. “Okay then, back to our original deal? No mention of ‘you know who.’”

  He shudders playfully, and she rolls her eyes with a grin as she looks up at him, blinking into the sunlight shining behind his head. In the daylight, she can see all of the similarities he has with West; they’re hard to look at, but she can also see the things that are uniquely Austin. Separating the two is essential to her as she studies him. Austin’s hair is the same color as West’s, but it’s cropped shorter, spiking a little in the front, but not with the same abandonment of West’s devil-may-care hair. His lips are thinner, too. His chin is a little longer, not as chiseled as West’s. It’s these little details that help her keep her composure as she scans down and takes in his attire. He’s wearing a practice tee with ripped armholes that show off his well-trained biceps and black workout shorts; the outfit reminds her of West. West rarely wore sports attire when they were together, but when he did, it was at home when they were alone and when he was relaxed, being himself. Those were her favorite moments with him. They were the only times when he looked like the real West Rutledge and not the guy he’d been playing for so long.

  West never displayed his lingering love of sports to people at school or around town. Instead, he preferred to look the role of the loner in his dark jeans and simple tees. They’d argued about it once, and he refused to admit he was playing a part that didn’t suit him. He’d thrown back that she’d given up cheering and wasn’t being true to herself, either. She’d started to argue back, and he’d kissed her hard, finding better ways for them to spend their time.

  “I haven’t had lunch yet. Wanna grab a bite?” she asks once she regains her composure.

  “Absolutely.” Austin checks his watch, looking around him at the people wandering around campus on a Tuesday afternoon. “Do you have another class or are you done for the day?”

  “Done.”

  “Could we go off campus? I know a small diner a couple blocks away. Best burgers in town.”

  “Big man on campus isn’t much fun, huh?” she pries, stuffing her hands into her shorts pockets.

  “Summer semester isn’t usually so bad, but I try not to eat in the commons. Especially if I want peace.”

  Jules agrees and allows Austin to drive a few blocks off campus to Big Daddy’s Burgers where they grab a corner table and shell peanuts while they wait for their food.

  “Tell me about school. What’s your major?” Austin asks after shoveling a few peanuts into his mouth.

  “Um, it’s good. I decided on sports medicine and OT.”

  “Really? I thought after the tornado you didn’t want anything to do with football anymore?” He sucks in his breath after he speaks. Obviously, almost everything he thinks he knows about her he’s heard from West. She can tell he is worried about bringing it up.

  “That was then,” she says pointedly, trying to show him she isn’t the same girl his brother had been with anymore. “After the wreck, I had to do a lot of PT. Those therapists and doctors were amazing in helping me get back on my feet again. It made me want to give back, to help someone else who might be in the same place as I was someday.”

  “That’s cool, Jules.”

  “So, how about you? Business major or sports medicine, just like ninety percent of all collegiate football players in this nation?”

  “Ha!” He tips his head and throws an empty shell at her. “Are you making fun of all us dumb jocks?”

  “Noooo, I’m pointing out the truth. You don’t kill yourself day in and out playing NCAA ball if you’re not hoping to make it in the big times. Those who don’t make it typically do the basic business degree ‘because you can use it for a myriad of jobs.’” She mimics what she’s heard so many athletes say. “Or you go into sports med because it’s all you’ve ever known.”

  “Wow, you’re jaded.”

  “Realistic.”

  “No. Jaded. Do you honestly dislike athletes now?”

  She pauses, thinking about his question instead of spouting an answer that might come across the wrong way.

  “You’re right. Half the guys on the team take the easy way out in school. If the NFL didn’t make us sit out a year, I think the majority of NCAA football players wouldn’t even go to school; they’d enter the draft. So yeah, you’re talking about a lot of guys who skimmed by high school because all they wanted to do was play sports. So when they got to college, they take the easy route. My dad and Carson both did business, you know.”

  It was refreshing to hear him agree with her thoughts on jocks and school. She’d always hated the way Stuart would blow off studying for big tests and then miraculously pass them. She knew he was getting passed because of his talent on the field. It wasn’t right, but it’s the way of the sports world.

  “I’m not implying they’re stupid,” she adds when he mentions Carson and his father.

  “Oh, I know. Hell, my dad has done well for our family. He parlayed his short career in the NFL into broadcasting gigs and co-owns a few franchises. He was smart with his money. Carson’s smart, too; granted he works for dad. Nepotism at its best,” he teases with a wink, and Jules feels herself relax a little more as their food arrives.

  “So, your major?” she asks as she squirts ketchup on her plate for her fries. The heavenly smell of burgers and fries make her stomach growl and she digs in, not bothering with dainty bites and manners.

  “You guess.”

  “Sports med or business?” she manages to mumble as she swallows her first juicy bite down. “Oh, my word, this is the best burger in town!”

  “Told you and no.”

  “Hmmmm,” she ponders as she licks a glob of liquid from the side of her mouth. “Oh! Broadcasting?”

  Austin shakes his head, and she’s stumped.

  “Accounting, marketing, or communications?”

  “Nope, nope, and nope. Also, you do know communications encompasses a lot of jobs, right?” His shoulders shake as she frowns.

  “Rocket science!” she spits out after several minutes of quiet contemplation, filled only by the groans of pleasure she takes in each bite of her food.

  “Close.”

  “Close? Really?”

  “Don’t look so surprised. I’m not as dumb as I look.” He laughs, and Jules sits forward and takes a sip of her drink.

  “You don’t look stupid at all,” she says quietly, almost reluctantly, and she wonders why giving a compliment to him feels so strange. Because he’s West’s brother, idiot! her brain shouts at her as she watches his smile. Shaking away the thought, she continues.

  “Um, anyway. Rocket science. So you’re a science major of some sort?”

  “No, more rocket, less science.”

  “More rocket? What the hell?”

  “Do you give up?”

  He laughs at her confusion, and she wants to say no, but she’s clueless. “Obviously!”

  “I’m an engineering major.” Her brows raise in surprise. “I’ve impressed you, I see.”

  “I have to admit you have. That’s very impressive… for a dumb jock.”

  A peanut shell smacks her in the forehead, and she howls as Austin breaks into laughter. Austin tells Jules about his classes as they eat. The more he talks, the more impressed she is. He isn’t another dumb jock and, though he certainly has the talent to make it in the NFL, he confides in her that he is questioning the choice.

  “Football is all I’ve ever known. My parents have shots of my naked butt lying across a pigski
n from day one. I can show you a million and one pictures from childhood and the majority will be football. Playing the game, at a game, watching a game. I love it, don’t get me wrong, but I get a different feeling when I build something.”

  “Sure, but you could play ball for a while and always work after, couldn’t you?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Have you talked to your dad or your brothers about it?” Jules hesitates when she says ‘brothers’ because she tries not to speak of West as often as possible, but the Rutledge boys are a package deal. They are a tight knit group and love each other very much.

  “Nah. There’s no need to worry with it, yet. I don’t know what they’ll think. Carson wasn’t quite good enough to make it, and Wes… sorry.” He stops himself from saying West's name and skips ahead. “Uh, my dad missed out on a lot when he played ball when we were babies. You know he coached until mom got sick. That’s when he quit; he blamed himself for not being there for her more before she died. Hated the sport for a while, even.”

  Really? Just like his youngest son. She doesn’t say the thought out loud, but the similarities to the way West gave up are striking.

  “You’re a good player. I remember you back in high school, and I’ve had the pleasure of watching you play on Saturday’s the past two years. You have a shot.”

  “I know.”

  He shrugs and Jules feels bad for him. He’s lucky he has such an amazing choice to make with his life, but she doesn’t envy him with the decision.

  “Anyway! Enough of that. How about dessert?”

  They share a hot fudge brownie sundae, although Austin eats three-fourths of it, and she balks at him until he orders a second one. Their conversation stays light and carefree for the rest of the meal and, when they finally start to leave, Jules is amazed to see they’ve been sitting there for over two hours.

  “This was fun,” she tells him as they slide from their booth. As she pulls out of the tight space between the red leather seat and the table, she freezes as a sharp pain and cramp seize her pelvic area. “Ahhh,” she moans, grabbing her hip and gritting her teeth.