Page 70 of Fundamentals of Chemistry

I needed to work up a sweat and tire myself out.

Running always cleared my head and made me feel better.

In a matter of minutes, I was in a pair of compression shorts and matching sports bra and lacing up my pink Sauconys. I pulled on a quarter-zip to hold off the October chill, then headed outside.

Today was ideal running weather. The sun was bright and friendly. The morning air was cold and crisp in my lungs. I would have been grossly underdressed in my shorts and thin pullover had I been doing anything else, but I would be plenty warm once my muscles warmed up. I set off at a hard pace around the lake, enjoying the bite of the wind on my cheeks.

Within a few minutes, the muscles in my legs started to burn. It was a nice distraction from my thoughts, which kept wandering back to my neighbor across the hall.

Last night was incredible, but it was over. We couldn’t go any further.

If I kept repeating that mantra to myself, I might start to believe it eventually.

I would have to keep my head down and get through the rest of the semester. And frankly, the writing was already on the wall—Jack was the better teacher and would likely be hired. I should probably start thinking about what I was going to do in January if I didn’t get to stay. I would be out of a job, but also out of a home since I was living on campus property.

Going back to my old place wasn’t an option, and the idea of finding another roommate in the city sounded absolutely terrible. I was incredibly lucky when I found Silvia. The odds of lightning striking the same place twice were slim to none.

I ran harder until my lungs started to burn too.

I was so frustrated. I couldn’t have the job. I couldn’t have the guy. I was going to be homeless. And I was starting to think I would rather be homeless than ask my parents for help.

Maybe I could find a nice bridge to live under. Connecticut was fucking full of bridges.

I wanted to scream—from anger or desperation or plain old self-pity.

Then, all of the sudden I wasn’t alone with my spiraling thoughts anymore.

Jack was next to me, running at my side.

I looked over at him, but he was staring straight ahead. Just keeping pace. It was as if my wild thoughts had called him to me. He wasn’t a solution to any of my problems, but that didn’t mean I didn’t want him around.

His quiet company gave me a little more strength. We ran together that way for another thirty minutes until my lungs and legs burned and my heart felt like it was beating a bruise into the back of my ribs.

I stopped abruptly the next time we passed Brookside Hall and started my slow ascent up the stairs. To my surprise, Jack stopped too and followed me into the building, a silent shadow.

My mind began racing again as we made our way up to the third floor. He wasn’t touching me, but he was close enough that I could smell his sweat—not to mention the lingering smell of sex—and I could feel the heat radiating off his muscular body.

I paused with my key in the lock and turned to look at him across the hall. He had stopped too, his hand on the doorknob.

“You know,” I started, “it wasn’t really a one-night thing since we… canoodled this morning too.”

“Canoodled?” he asked, brow raised.

“Bonked,” I said, and he narrowed his eyes.

“Screwed, fucked, shagged, copulated, fornicated, made woopie—”

“Okay, I get it,” he said, waving his hands as if that might stop my mouth.

“Anyway,” I said, continuing my previous train of thought. “Since it’s technically day now, it seems like this is actually a night and a day—or maybe a twenty-four-hour thing. That’s just basic math, you know?”

He regarded me with a furrowed brow. “What are you saying?”

I took a deep breath before speaking again, more slowly this time. “I want you to shower with me.”

He looked at me as if I had sprouted a second head. “Shower.”

“Yes.”