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He breathes my name and closes his eyes. He’s going to say no. I feel it.
I whisper, “It’s okay. I’ll stay with you tonight anyway. We can watch Game of Thrones until sunrise. You don’t have to be alone tonight.”
It’s over. There’s no chance of anything with Nathan, and as soon as my hope falls to my feet, he pushes off the wall and steps toward me. As he looks down at me, his eyes lock on my lips. “That sounds like a good plan.”
“You have my friendship, Nathan.”
“Please, call me Nate.”
I lift my lashes and look into his eyes. “Nate.”
The corners of his lips twitch as a slight smile spreads across them. “Kerry.”
I stare, knowing I can’t taste. I should walk away, find some popcorn, anything to put some distance between us, but I don’t want to move. He’s still close enough to feel the heat from his body. The memory of his sinful skin against mine is still fresh in my mind. My fingers twitch at my sides as I resist the urge to touch him. I’m drowning in him, in his scent, breathing him in. I can’t stay this way. Friendship requires distance and right now there is none.
He’s a friend who had a hard day. Give him a hug and be done with it. I slip up on my toes so I don’t mash my breasts into him too much, and give the most sisterly hug I can manage. He’s surprised at first, but then I feel his hands on my back. He pats me, and when he begins to pull away, he slows as my cheek brushes against his. A strand of my hair catches on his stubble, so he trails his finger over my cheek and tucks it behind my ear. His hand lingers. His lips are right there, so close to mine. I can’t breathe. I don’t move. His eyes dart between my eyes and my lips, finally lingering on my mouth until I have to suck in a breath. My chest swells, making my breasts press against his chest. I try not to breathe, but it doesn’t help. The pressure of his body on mine is exquisite and unbearable at the same time.
My lips part and I stumble back into the wall. Nate moves with me, placing one of his hands on either side of my head. He moves slowly—as if he knows he shouldn’t—sweeping his lips against mine. I shiver with the contact and feel my heart rate increase to frantic levels. I’m breathing like a hyperventilating asthmatic. It’s so far from sexy that…
The thought vanishes when his mouth crushes against mine. His sweet hesitance is gone. Nate presses me to the wall and cups my face with both hands, drinking me in—ravishing me with a heated kiss. His knee forces itself between mine and, as my knees go weak, I slide down the wall until my core presses against his leg. I moan, and the kiss deepens, intensifies. His tongue tangles with mine as he tastes me, touches me, and presses his body into mine. My hands are under his shirt, fingers splayed across his back, feeling every firm muscle as he devours me.
It’s just a kiss, but I’m so hot, so turned on. I want more. I want him.
Nathan pulls away, blue eyes dark and sensual. He’s breathless when he speaks. “We can’t. I can’t do this to you.”
I’m not playing this game. I push away from him, freeing myself from his grasp. “The only thing you’re doing to me is driving me crazy. What are we, Nate? You seriously can’t handle a fuckbuddy? You can’t do a one-nighter? No rebounds?” I sound bitter, and I don’t like it, but I can’t stand it. This is the third time he’s rejected me.
“It’s not you.”
“Right.”
“Kerry, this just can’t happen. I have too much shit on my plate right now. I want you when I can have you. That’s not tonight.”
I’m hurt and the urge to say things I shouldn’t is overwhelming. I swallow most of the sentiments, but a few slip out. “You’re wrong. Tonight was your last chance, and you blew it.”
I turn and rush down the hallway, taking long determined strides, and yank the front door open. I’m rushing up the stairs of the bus, the raccoon darting between my legs, when I realize he didn’t follow me.
Nathan’s front door is closed.
Chapter 5
I get back to the dorm, stagger to my room and fall face-first on my bed. I don’t change my clothes or brush my teeth. I’ll just lay here for a second before getting ready for bed. It’s nearly 4 am and my body is aching with fatigue. Sleep paws at me and my eyelids won’t stay open.
A moment later I’m hit with a stack of books. I yelp and dart upright in the bed. Sunlight fills the room. It spills through the open window, making it clear that it’s morning. Between the sounds of the cars in the parking lot below and the glaring bitch standing over me, I know I slept in. I missed my class.
I groan and snap at her, “What the hell?”
She smiles and gives a fake giggle. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t see you there.”
Bullshit. I left my books at the foot of my bed yesterday. Why she decided to scoop them up and drop them on me eludes me.
“Better get going, Bacon. You’re stinking up the room with that greasy hair of yours.”
I stare at her pretty pink lips and gleaming hair. She’s so close to the window. I could shove her. She could trip. It could totally be an accident, but we’re only on the second floor. Her worst injury would probably be a broken nail.
There are people who have excellent luck. It’s like fate chose them to be the shining stars of my generation, and Super Bitch has more luck than a leprechaun. She never has bad hair days. Zits?
None. Ever. Her skin is perfect, flawless, as in she doesn’t need makeup. Cosmetic companies hate girls like her, with their natural beauty that doesn’t come from a can.
