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He leaned in, brushing his lips against mine in a teasing kiss. “That sounds like a challenge.” He moved his hips, which were still pressed firmly against mine, and I realized with some surprise that he was hard again. His length slid smoothly inside me, igniting a blaze within me like banked coals catching fire. I caught my breath.
“What, already?” I said, but I was already raising my hips to meet his thrusts and any further words were swallowed by his kiss.
32
I never made it back to my room that night, which saved me from having to figure out how to sneak past the RA on duty. It did not however, save me from the expressions on Devan’s and Garrett’s faces when I emerged from Micah’s room the next morning. Even if they’d heard nothing—which I knew couldn’t be the case—my rumpled state left no question as to what we’d been up to.
Garrett was sitting at the low table in the common area when I came out, and his eyebrows climbed when he saw me. My face flushed, but I didn’t have a chance to say anything before Devan’s door opened and he wandered out wearing pajama bottoms but no shirt, his hair a tangled mess. My mouth went dry at the sight, and I silently berated myself. How the hell could I possibly be turned on after what I’d been through the night before?
Devan was rubbing his bleary eyes, but he stopped when he saw me standing there and narrowed his eyes at Micah, who I hadn’t even realized had come up behind me.
“I can’t even be mad at you,” he said to his roommate, his words breaking off in a yawn. “At least not the first two times. But seriously—who takes a shower at three in the morning?”
My face flamed further. I’d tried to be quiet that time, I really had. But when Micah had trapped me against the wall and hiked my leg up over his shoulder, laving his tongue over my clit as scalding water pelted against my already oversensitive skin…well. At least no one had class that day.
“Sorry guys,” Micah said as he crossed to the table, not sounding sorry in the least.
“You will be,” Devan muttered with another yawn, “When she gets tired of your sorry ass and you get to experience firsthand how thin the walls are.”
Devan stepped up behind me and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me against his bare chest and brushing my hair off my shoulder as he leaned down to kiss my neck. Even though I knew he was doing it to get a rise out of Micah, I let him, enjoying the feel of his bare skin against my back. His heat warmed me even through my sweater.
Garrett ignored both of them, his gaze settling on me. “Do you have time for breakfast before your flight?”
I shook my head, reluctantly extricating myself from Devan’s embrace. “I have to get back so I can get changed before we have to leave.” Nora had added herself to the slowly growing list of contacts in my phone, and I’d already texted her that I would be there soon. “When do you guys have to leave?”
“Everyone has to be off campus by noon,” Garrett told me. “Will you text us when you land?” His voice was tight, and I noticed his leg was bouncing under the table. My brows drew together in concern. It seemed like he’d been more relaxed lately, but you wouldn’t know it by the tension coiled in him at that moment. I wondered again what exactly the three of them were up to over break, and if that was what had him so tense.
“Camilla?” he prompted, and I started, realizing I hadn’t answered him.
“Will you text us when you get to your aunt’s house?” he said again, and I nodded.
“Of course,” I said, tamping down the rush of guilt that accompanied my words. I hadn’t yet told them I wasn’t going to my aunt’s house, but it still felt too private, too raw. I’d tell them about the trip when I returned.
“Don’t forget,” he said gruffly, rising from the table to cross the room toward me. I froze when his hands came up to cup my cheeks, and I wondered if he was about to kiss me. He didn’t though, just held me there for a second, and I could feel the tension radiating through his whole body as his thumb stroked down my cheek before he released me.
I let my hand slide down his arm to his hand, and squeezed it when he pulled back.
“You okay?” I asked quietly, and he grimaced, then seemed to forcibly try to relax.
“I will be,” he answered, squeezing my hand in return before releasing it. “Now get going. And keep your phone on you.”
* * *
I wasn’t sure if Garrett’s insistence that I check in and keep my phone close was simple overprotective tendencies or if he had something else going on that had him all worked up, but by the time I’d returned to my dorm, showered, changed, packed, and was flying down the highway in Nora’s convertible, my focus had switched entirely to the trip ahead.
She hugged me farewell in the terminal and I checked the flight schedule again before heading to my gate, where I sat, restlessly fidgeting while I waited for the plane to start boarding. I found myself unable to keep from moving, bouncing my leg or picking at a loose thread on my jeans, and I wondered if this was how Garrett felt all the time, nervous energy flowing through with no outlet.
Finally, finally, they boarded the plane, and I settled myself into my window seat, pushing my backpack underneath the seat in front of me. Considering how little sleep I’d gotten the night before, I’d counted on napping for the majority of the flight. I only had one layover, but the whole trip to L.A. would take nearly nine hours, and I could think of nothing better than spending as much of the trip as possible unconscious.
My mind was as restless as my body though, and it had other ideas. The moment was here, I was actually on a plane headed to California, and yet all I could feel was a tangle of emotions so knotted I could barely tease them apart. A bone-deep sadness at the thought of returning home without my parents there to greet me. Nervous tension as I wondered what my aunt would say when she found out what I was doing. A thrill of defiance at the thought that it didn’t really matter how she reacted, because I was a legal adult—though, to be fair, she was the one financing this trip, whether she knew it or not. And beneath it all, a thread of excitement at the thought of seeing Ian again, seeing someone who knew me and understood what I’d been through, and the anticipation of being in the tattoo studio, essentially my second home, with its familiar sounds and comforting sights and smells.
For months this moment had been all I could think about, just waiting for the seconds to tick by until I was eighteen and I could legally head back without any repercussions, put the ridiculousness of Lost Lake Academy behind me and move forward with the life I’d always had planned. But even though I was finally here, I couldn’t deny that part of me missed the guys, missed Nora and her wide grins and nonstop chatter, missed the ivy-covered buildings that had grown to feel—if not like home—at least familiar.
The emotions swirled within me, each fighting for dominance until finally I reached down, tugging my bag closer to my feet before unzipping the outside pocket. My parents’ letter was there, right where I always had it, close within reach. I pulled it out and held it tightly in my lap, the handwriting on the envelope so familiar and comforting.
I still couldn’t bring myself to open it. Would that feeling ease once I was back on California soil? Maybe I’d go to the beach. Would I be able to open the letter there?
I brought the envelope to my face, breathing it in, but there was no lingering scent of my parents, no memory hidden in the paper. I ran my thumb over the writing one last time, then tucked it securely back into my bag.
