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My fingers touched my lips, finding them to be surprisingly tender.
Then again, I had never been kissed like that, so maybe they were supposed to be sore.
Trace’s eyes had darkened with lust, but he looked tormented, his jaw was clenched once more and his hands were fisted at his sides.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that,” he groaned. “I’m sorry,” he repeated, before turning around and walking away, as fast as humanly possible.
What. The. Hell?
I had just been given the most amazing kiss of my life, of anyone’s life, and he was apologizing and walking away?
Had I done something wrong?
Was I a bad kisser?
A million thoughts tumbled through my mind as I began to cry, standing there, willing him to come back and tell me this was a joke.
But it wasn’t.
Trace had kissed me and now he was gone.
c h a p t e r
Ten
I wiped my tears away as hastily as they fell. I had never been so hurt or humiliated in my entire life. I felt like Trace had ripped my heart right out of my chest and stomped on it.
How could he do that to me?
I spotted his car, still parked in front of my dorm, but he wasn’t in it.
The sight of his car made caused even more tears.
I walked up the steps, heading for my dorm room, blinded by my tears.
I opened the door and was greeted with a cheery, “How did it go?” from Avery, and then, “Oh my God! Are you crying? What did he do to you? Do I need to chase his ass down and cut his dick off, then force feed it to him?”
Not even Avery’s sick sense of humor could get me to crack a smile.
“Olivia,” she whispered softly as the door clicked closed.
I couldn’t see her through my blurry tears.
I felt her arms wrap around me, in a tight hug, as she pulled me over to my bed.
“I’m sorry, Livie,” she whispered, cradling me against her, like a mom would with her small child. I must have looked really pathetic.
I sniffled, taking deep breaths.
“What happened?” She asked, running her fingers through my long hair.
I sniffled in response and she rubbed my back.
“Shhh,” she whispered, “it’s okay. Cry. You can tell me later, because you will tell me,” she rubbed my back. “I need to know if I have to castrate him,” she muttered the last part under her breath.
When I composed myself to the point where I could talk, I told her about the kiss and Trace running away from me.
Avery giggled. Giggled! She plucked at the sweatshirt I was wearing. Trace’s sweatshirt. “I told you a sweatshirt was like wearing a chastity belt. It scares guys off every time.”
