Big Nick Energy (Tales from Hamilton University)

Chapter 2

Two

I t didn’t matter that we were a little pitchy and off-key, we sang at the top of our lungs the entire way to Richland. We turned the music down when we approached the swanky hotel where most of the Hamilton University alumni booked rooms. The hotel across the street was just as nice, but The Elm was bigger, better, and the location of Saturday’s party.

“Do you think all of the SONs will be here?” Paris wondered as I eased the car in line for valet parking.

“I wouldn’t be surprised.” Smiling, I glanced over at her. “Are you curious about the whole frat or just Tucker?”

“I’m over Tuck,” she insisted. “I was just curious.”

I pointed to the sidewalk. “Is that him?”

The way her head flew around, I couldn’t help but laugh. “Where?”

“I thought you were over him,” I teased.

She looked around before turning to me. “You didn’t see him, did you?” Once she saw me smiling, she exclaimed, “You bitch!” She swatted at my arm. “I’m going to get you back!”

“I just wanted to prove my point. This weekend is for both of us. Yes, I may be the one with the plan. But you need to come up with your own plan because Tuck will more than likely be here. And when you see him, what are you going to do?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugged. “Say hi. I don’t know.”

“When you see him, you’re not going to just let the opportunity pass you by, Paris.” I moved the car forward as we were next to be served. “We are going to have the weekend we never had on campus. You won’t be the shy girl this time around and I won’t think I can’t have what I want. This is the weekend. This is it. The time is now.”

“That’s easy for you to say. You’re delusional.”

“Promise me you’ll live in the moment. Promise me that you’ll be out of your shell from the time we get out of this car until we leave Monday morning.”

She groaned, covering her face. “I don’t?—”

“Promise me,” I interrupted, tugging at her arm. “Promise me.”

A smile pulled at her lips. “Asha.”

I pulled up to the valet and then gave her a look. “Paris. You deserve this weekend. Promise me you’ll say yes to everything you want.”

She rolled her eyes just as our doors opened. “Fine. I promise.”

I stuck out my pinky and she interlocked it with hers.

“You’re not going to regret this,” I said as I accepted the valet slip and climbed out the car. “This is going to be a great weekend!”

“Welcome to The Elm,” the valet attendant greeted me with a cheerful smile.

Arm in arm, Paris and I went to the front desk to check into our fifth-floor room. The suite had two full beds, a huge bathroom, and a window view that overlooked the city. We’d only been in the room for a few minutes when our luggage was delivered.

“It’s almost noon. Where do you want to go for lunch?” I wondered as I hoisted my bag into the chair in the corner.

“I need a nap before lunch,” Paris answered.

I nodded in agreement. “I feel you, but I’m too keyed up to nap.” I opened the suitcase and grabbed my outfit for the panel event and possibly, the kickback. “You want to grab something to eat somewhere on the way to campus or do you want to eat at the restaurant downstairs?”

She yawned. “I’ve been thinking about burgers and fries from Al’s Diner all week.”

“Mmm…” My stomach rumbled in agreement. “Nice choice.”

“I’m setting my alarm for three o’clock. The panel is at six, right?”

“Yes. Panel at six and networking mixer at seven thirty.” As she started stripping, I grabbed my crossbody bag and my phone. “I’m going to check out what’s happening downstairs and then I’m going for a walk. Call me if you need anything.”

She mumbled her goodbye as she pulled the covers back on her bed.

I left the room and headed to the elevator. As I headed down to the first floor, my thoughts were racing. I needed to chill out and the best way for me to do that was to go for a walk. I felt like I’d spent the last few months planning how the weekend would go and now that the time was here, I felt a little anxious. Nervous energy rushed through my veins as I realized that no matter how much I planned, schemed, and researched, once I put myself in his line of sight, it was up to him to make the move.

I could control all the factors except him.

He was the variable.

“Oh, my bad,” a deep voice said as I exited the elevator car and collided with something hard. “Are you okay?”

“Barely,” I grumbled, my hand flying to my forehead. Dazed, I backed up and forced my eyes upward. “I uh…”

My heart thumped as my words trailed off into silence. All I could do was stare at the 6’4” melanin-rich mahogany skinned man with warm chocolate brown eyes, and full, kissable lips. His smooth skin made his chiseled jawline stand out and I wasn’t sure if it was aftershave or cologne that was infiltrating my senses. Either way, the scent was intoxicating. His energy was overwhelming in the best way.

“Hey, let me call you back,” he said into the phone he was holding against his ear. Shoving the phone in the pocket of his hoodie, he reached out for me with his free hand but hesitated before touching me. “I’m sorry. May I?”

The elevator started to make a loud noise, so he moved us out of the way. I nodded slowly, still holding the spot that stung.

Nick Williams gently grabbed my wrist and moved my hand out of the way. Touching the spot gingerly, he examined it. “That’s my fault.” He shifted his gaze from my injury to my eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“What was that?” I wondered.

“My elbow.” He shook his head. “I was holding the phone to my ear and when the elevator opened, I just turned.” He exhaled. “What’s your name?”

“Asha,” I answered quietly.

“Let me get you some ice, Asha.” He looked around and then ushered me to a nearby bench. “Sit right here. Give me a couple minutes. I’ll be right back.”

“Okay,” I murmured as he rushed toward the front desk.

Oh. My. God.

I pulled out my phone to text Paris, but I caught a glimpse of myself on my phone.

“Oh my God,” I gasped aloud as I saw a red mark on my forehead with elevated puffy skin.

No wonder he ran off to get ice , I thought, touching the spot gingerly.

Asha James: Guess who I LITERALLY just ran into in the lobby

“Hi, Miss,” a middle-aged woman with a friendly smile greeted me. “Your friend tells me there’s been an accident.”

I clicked the side of my phone to blacken the screen. Looking between the woman and Nick, I dropped it back into my bag. “Uh, yeah.”

“I’m sorry,” Nick apologized. He looked like he was about to say something else when his phone rang again.

She handed me an instant cold compress and some paper towels. “Do you need us to call an ambulance?”

I held the compress against my head. “No, I’m fine. But thank you for this.”

“If you’ll allow me to take a quick look, please,” the woman requested, pulling my attention and my head away from Nick.

“I’m running late. I got sidetracked but I’m about to change and meet you at the spot now,” Nick said into the phone.

She had me follow her finger with my eyes. When she was done, my eyes drifted from the woman examining my head to Nick’s fine ass as he concluded his call. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a card.

“I’m sorry, but I have to go,” he told me, pointing toward the elevator.

“Yeah, of course, go.” My lips curled up into a smile. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

Pulling the compress from my head, I nodded. “Yeah,” I murmured.

He handed me his business card. “If you need anything?—”

“You look okay,” the woman stated as he said goodbye.

The elevator dinged and he jogged to the newly opened car. I didn’t get a chance to respond to him because he was gone so fast.

“There’s only a slight mark on your forehead,” she continued, taking a step back. “But you don’t want to play around with a concussion. Are you sure you don’t want me to call an ambulance for you? As a precaution?”

“I’m sure.”

“Okay.” She nodded. “Well, if you need anything, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

“Thank you.”

She walked toward the front desk, and I pulled out my phone. Paris hadn’t responded so I knew she was still asleep. My mind was racing, and my head had what looked like a developing lump above my eyebrow. I wasn’t sure if it was from seeing Nick or from the collision with his elbow, but I didn’t remember where I was supposed to be going on my walk.

I placed the cold compress against my head as I stood. What is concussion protocol?

I headed back to my room.

I needed to collect myself.

Paris was asleep so I quietly made my way into the bathroom and assessed my injury. I realized the lump I thought I’d seen earlier was actually a reddened welt. I stared at my reflection.

A couple of hours should fix it, I mused.

With my hands gripping the sink, I leaned closer to the mirror.

Fuck the bruise. I just saw Nick.

Paris didn’t wake up for an hour, but I used the time that she was asleep to strategize. By the time my best friend had awakened, I had a new plan for getting Nick’s attention.

“What?” Paris balked as we ate overpriced room service quesadillas and chicken tenders. “Asha, I don’t know about that…”

“I’m going to give him a chance to approach me and if that doesn’t work, I’m going to contact him,” I summarized.

“And say what?”

“I’ll give him an update on my concussion.”

She almost choked on her fry. “What concussion?”

“The one that the lady downstairs said that I could possibly have.” I winked at her. “Keep up.”

With a laugh, she shook her head. “I don’t know how you’re so bold.”

I pointed at her. “You need to be bold. You were friends with Tuck, and you never said a word about your feelings for him.”

She shifted in her seat uncomfortably, looking down at her plate. “I’m over him.”

I twisted my lips skeptically but didn’t say anything.

I didn’t have to.

We both knew she was lying.

She wanted to be over him, she tried to get over him, but she wasn’t. And because I loved her, I was going to let her live in her delusion.

“Yeah, I hear you.” With my eyebrows raised to the middle of my forehead, I took a sip of my lemonade. “So, if not Tuck, who do you have your eye on? We said we are reclaiming our time this weekend and living it up so there has to be someone you’re interested in.”

“I’m going to make a decision when I get there. I have to check out who all is going to be there.”

I nodded. “Valid point.”

After eating, we started getting ready. It didn’t always take us hours to prepare for a night out. But there was so much hype around this particular homecoming weekend that we knew we needed to come correct. The Hamilton University Hounds football team were playing so well that they were going to air the game on Sports Athletes News Station, one of the biggest sports networks in the world. The buzz surrounding the weekend was bringing some of the more famous alums as well as celebrities.

“I would’ve been ready thirty minutes ago if my lashes would’ve cooperated,” I complained as I twirled around in the mirror one last time.

“I feel you. My twist out wasn’t doing what I wanted it to do,” Paris sighed.

“But it turned out so cute.” I looked over at how her thick hair was separated in two cute afro puffs. “It looks great with your outfit.”

“Thanks.” She gently touched her edges and then looked at my braids. “I should’ve gotten my hair braided.”

“Your hair is cute like it is. And you hate sitting to get braids.”

She frowned slightly and nodded in acknowledgement. “You’re right. But it took you two seconds to do your hair.”

Smiling, I turned to look at my reflection. “It took me two seconds to do my hair, and an hour to do my makeup.”

I stepped back, inspecting myself from head to toe. My waist length boho knotless braids with shiny, voluminous human hair curls was pulled into a high ponytail. My makeup looked flawlessly natural except for the thick, lush lashes. The off the shoulder plum bodysuit with the matching wrap skirt hugged my thick body and accentuated my curves. The gold heels made my round ass sit pretty and matched my bag, my jewelry and the charms in my hair.

I looked good.

“You look good,” Paris commented.

Looping my arm with hers, I grinned. “ We look good.”

A slow smile stretched across her pretty face. “We do.”

It didn’t take long for us to get to Hamilton University. We got a decent parking spot, so we were a little surprised by how packed it was in the library’s auditorium.

“This place is huge. There’s two seats over there,” Paris pointed out.

I peered toward the stage. “I was hoping to be in the front.”

“I don’t think that’s going to happen.” She gestured with her head. “It looks like you weren’t the only one with that idea.”

I realized how many women were in the front row, specifically gathered toward the end of the stage where two handsome men were standing.

“As long as they aren’t focused on my man, we’re good,” I whispered as we made our way to the available seats.

She rolled her eyes good-naturedly. “Asha, please.”

Giggling our way to the left side of the auditorium, we scanned the crowd. Unfamiliar, very familiar and vaguely familiar faces were all around us. Smiles and positive energy pulsed through the room, and I knew we were in for a great weekend.

“What’s up, Hamilton University?!” a sultry voice called out from backstage. Seconds later, a beautiful woman with a silk press eased onto the stage and the applause thundered. “I’m Zola Patterson and I’ll be your moderator this evening.”

I didn’t recognize her on sight, but as soon as she said her name, I knew exactly who she was. The thick beauty was a dating and relationship expert best known for her dating blog The Single Life with Zola Patterson, her advice column, TSL with Zola Patterson, and her best-selling books Getting It and Zola Patterson’s Guide to a Year of Hot Hookups . Wearing a lowcut white top and leather pants, the Richland legend waved, basking in her applause before she continued.

“Welcome to the What Success Looks Like panel! HU’s homecoming theme is ‘All I Do Is Win’ and we are kicking off this weekend with some winners. From different fields, titans of different industries, and coming from different paths, I’d like to introduce you to today’s panelists.”

She walked from centerstage and stood in front of the first chair. “I’d like to first welcome Hamilton University alum and Chief Operating Officer of Franklin Financial, Alexander Franklin III!”

Loud cheers seemed to get even louder as soon as the good-looking man in the navy-blue pants and sky-blue button up strolled out. I didn’t know him, but he looked like money. I noted the wedding ring he wore as he lifted his hand to the crowd.

I could see the woman behind Paris lean forward. “That’s the investment firm where I’m trying to get an internship,” she hissed.

Zola continued her introduction with the next panelist. “Next, we have one of the reasons for this new and improved library. Hamilton University alum, member of Sigma Omicron Nu, and talented architect, Kwame Mitchell!”

Applause followed as the tall, handsome, dark-skinned man walked out in a deep burgundy suit. The catcalls seemed to disregard the gold wedding band that graced his left ring finger.

“You know he’s married to Aisha Young, right?” the woman behind me told her friend. “He graduated with my older brother, and he went to their wedding in Chicago.”

I had no clue who any of those people were, but I had noticed the new huge library renovation.

Zola grinned and I just knew she was about to announce my crush.

“Next, I’d like for you to give a warm welcome to Hamilton University alum, international culinary artist and the Sous Chef at Cloverleaf, Tiana Mason-Ward.”

“Chef Tiana has taste,” I commented as the beautiful, full-figured woman walked out in one of the dresses that I’d packed for the weekend.

“And she’s working it,” Paris agreed, replying a little louder to be heard over the cheering of the crowd. “Those shoes are fire.”

I nodded. “I’m making a mental note to find some similar ones before I try to wear the dress out.”

Zola pointed offstage. “And now put your hands together for Hamilton University alum, member of Sigma Omicron Nu, and owner of CAP, Community Access Program, Nick Williams!”

Clapping excitedly, I grinned as if Nick knew me for real. Wearing a pair of grey pants and a crisp white shirt, he looked professionally sexy. The relaxed confidence in his stride matched the smile on his face. He was obviously in his element. He always had that sexy, self-assured, seductive energy about him. The stage lights illuminated the undertones of his skin and the sharpness of his hairline. I could even see the deep waves in his hair from where I was seated.

“Mmm mmm mmm,” the woman behind me commented giddily. “Something about those SONs.”

With my eyes laser focused on the sexy man who strolled across the stage, I couldn’t agree with that stranger more.

“He’s the only one up there not wearing a ring,” the woman behind Paris commented.

I bit my bottom lip and tried not to smile.

“And lastly,” Zola started again. “I want you to put your hands together for the Hamilton University alum, world renowned photographer, and Visual Storytelling guest lecturer, Luca Romano.”

“That fine ass man is engaged to the fashion designer Serena Brooks,” the woman behind me pointed out over the thunderous applause.

“Almost all the good ones are taken,” her friend complained.

“Not Nick,” she said in a sing-song tone.

Not Nick, I repeated silently.

Paris and I glanced at each other.

She knew me so well that her smile matched mine because she knew what I was thinking.

It was clear I wasn’t going to be the only one checking for Nick, so I was going to have to take things to the next level and make a bold move.