Free No Easy Choices (A New Adult Romance) by Trista Cade Page A

I was wrong. Kennedy snatched me up off the couch, pulled the rubber band out of my hair, and fluffed out my curls while another sister held out a silk robe. Before I knew it, I was wearing something that look a lot like a negligée, complete with feathers around the collar, and a swipe of peach lipstick on my face. I was unceremoniously shoved out the side door to the TV room, mortified to find myself face-to-face with about twenty guys.
                  “Andie McMichaels,” Quinn began in a severe voice, “it is my sincere pleasure to introduce you to Jackson Burrage.” She held out her hand and indicated the guy. Yup, that guy. The puker. And truth be told, he was kind of good-looking when there weren’t chunks stuck to the side of his face. Quinn kept on with the serious voice while she gave me what sound a whole lot like a sales pitch, only the product she was selling was puke boy.
                  “Jackson is a member of Epsilon Chi fraternity, the student government, and our own football team, where he rushed for six hundred years so far this season. He would like permission to escort you to dinner tomorrow night, and the sisterhood has already accepted on your behalf. We’ll leave you two alone. Gentlemen!” She barked that last word and actually clapped her hands once, which would have been hilarious if it hadn’t actually worked. The guys turned around and left their brother on the stoop next to me.
                  “Hi,” Jackson began. “You know, you actually look familiar.”
                  “Yes,” I replied, “I drove you home from the mixer last weekend. You threw up on me.” Why not start things off with honesty? Honesty is important in a relationship.
                  “Wow. I’m really sorry about that. I don’t usually drink because of sports and all, but they had just named me as the starting offensive lineman, and I got a little carried away with my celebrating. Am I forgiven?” And I admit it, he actually did look sorry. What the hell. It wasn’t like my prospects could get worse. I’d already kind of hit rock bottom on my own, so why not let those who care and know best point me in the right direction?
                  “So,” he continued, “dinner tomorrow? I thought we’d go to Effina’s, and then maybe to a movie?”
                  “That sounds like fun. Thanks!” I said with what I hoped was an eager smile. Jackson leaned in and kissed me on the cheek, sparking a chorus of gleeful screams from inside the house. I should have known they’d be watching.
                  Jackson told me goodnight and walked back up the hill to fraternity row, leaving me to go inside and face the interrogation. I turned the knob and braced myself.
     
    Chapter Twelve
     
                  “I’m pretty sure I’m supposed to ask you what your major is,” Jackson said with a smile after we were shown to our table at the restaurant and had placed our order with the waitress.
                  “Art,” I said, prepared to defend myself but pleasantly surprised by the excited look on his face.
                  “Really? I almost went into art,” he said, “but my dad said it wasn’t right for me.” He snapped a breadstick in two a little more forcefully than necessary before crunching it into pieces with his clenched jaw.
                  “Oh,” I said, kind of at a loss for words. “My dad thinks it’s perfect for me.”
                  “It is, I can tell. You’ve got that free-spirit look about you. And of course, you’re a girl.”
                  “What?” I laughed. “All the great artists were historically men.”
                  “Right, but nowadays, how’s a guy who majors in art supposed to earn money? Selling his paintings on the street corner? Auctioning them off on eBay?” His