Page 56 of Apparently, I’m Torture

He shrugged; a small smile played across his lips. “It might surprise you, but Stace likes to visit the math department back at Brooklyn. She has a thing for glasses and guys who can do her taxes.”

I almost laughed, but filling my mind was an image of Stacey seducing an unwitting math teacher, and I didn’t know what to think.

Shawn’s smile slipped. “So years ago, when you were struggling to pass your final exam, she made you date Trevor, and made you split your time even though there was a chance you’d fail?”

The truth was, I’d made peace with what happened years ago, so I tried to sound casual about it, like it wasn’t something that threatened to ruin my peace and joy over the past five years.

“I don’t think she cared about whether or not I graduated. I think all she cared about was that the sorority was running smoothly, and that Trevor got what he wanted.”

I sighed. Judging by Shawn’s scowl, I was not doing a good job of making this sound less grim. “If I didn’t have Mia with me, I don’t know if I’d ever have passed that exam.”

“Right. She was the friend you needed at the time. And I didn’t do a thing to help you.”

I looked up at him and studied his handsome, frustrated face.

“It wasn’t your fault.” I reached out and tugged on his shirt, twisting my fingers into the fabric like I used to. “I wasn’t exactly honest about everything I was going through.”

“But I wouldn’t let you tell me. I was so wrapped up in my own feelings, I just pushed you away.”

His big, warm palm was suddenly on my cheek, and he stepped closer as he wiped the frosting away.

He stared at his thumb, and his voice was low as he said, “If I knew you didn’t have feelings for Trevor, maybe… I would’ve done things differently.” And then he shocked me as he brushed his thumb against my lips.

The icing on his skin was so sweet, the act so familiar, that my stomach erupted. A bundle of nerves sizzled and raced off, sped through me, so different to the anxious horrible swirling I’d usually feel. And all I could do was stand there, memories swimming in my vision, as I licked the pad of his thumb.

His groan was so quiet, I almost didn’t hear it over the roaring in my ears.

“Fuck,” he whispered, his eyes fixed on my mouth. “Do you know how badly I wanted you back then?”

He slipped his finger from my lips as I tightened my fist in his shirt, refusing to think as I pulled him closer to me. I almost didn’t want to ask, but the breathless, confused question slipped out.

“You wanted me?”

No. Shawn wouldn’t want me. There was no way he’d have spent so long avoiding me if that was how he felt. But as his fingers threaded through my hair, tracing prickles and nerves, I curved into him, and let myself believe he might.

The roughness of his touch washed over me, drugging me. Everything around us blurred and dulled.

Maybe… he did want me. Maybe I was wrong about what happened all those years ago.

My cheeks burned, and a wave of heat seared my skin as I remembered my trapped arms, my ruined sweater, my half-naked body. Shawn’s dark stare.

What if everything I knew about that night was wrong?

But I had no more room left to think. He was so close, crowding me against the table, wrapping my hair around his fist, leaning over me as I tipped my chin up and parted my lips. It was a shock when his mouth brushed against mine; so soft, like he hesitated, like he wasn’t sure. Then his fist tightened in my hair, and I gasped as he stepped between my thighs, parting them in a way that made my skirt ride up.

He lowered his lips to mine again, my tongue slid against his, and his groan vibrated in my mouth. And oh, god, what was this feeling? This heady, heavy feeling, uncoiling low and warm inside me. His fingertip traced the nape of my hairline and I shivered as he pressed closer. I could feel it. His cock, thick and hard, against my stomach.

I reached between us and slid a finger along his trapped length, and the groan he gave me sent a thrill through my core. He pushed into my touch, like he was sex-starved, like he wanted more, and fuck, I was ready to give it to him. His free hand trailed along my thigh, and I held my breath, so lost in his touch, so drunk in it, that I’d forgotten where we were, what we were doing, and I wanted him to touch my pussy. To feel how wet I was for him. Just a little more, just a tiny graze, just a small taste of relief.

His tongue was gently probing mine, and his fingers were so close. Almost there. God, I wanted him to slide his fingers inside me–

“Oh, now that’s what I’m talking about.”

Mia’s outburst made Shawn and I jump apart, and my glance flitted to his bewildered expression as he backed away, panting, and cursed under his breath.

Then, before I could think of anything to say, Shawn turned and stalked by Mia, roughly offering, “I have to go,” as his only goodbye.

And I was left standing there, trying to breathe as I held the edge of the table. I watched him leave, and as he disappeared down that hallway, I touched my fingers to my lips, ran them to the back of my hair; reminding myself of the places he’d just been, of what we just did.